Archive of Our Own ^beta

Victor has always wished his life was like a novel.

You know, one of those romance books with a hot, half-naked guy pictured on the cover that ends with an engagement and a steamy sex scene. Victor wishes his life is like those young adult stories where there are four different confusing love triangles and three different misunderstandings that somehow resolve each other by the end. Yeah, those kind of books.

But instead, he lives in a boring reality; one that is as far off from a romance novel as possible. There are no steamy sex scenes, and well scripted dates, and misunderstood love triangles between the main characters.

Just a steady, two month, long-distance relationship with the most precious man he can ever think of. And while it's no Victor Nikiforov romantic comedy - although nothing could truly be as well scripted as a Victor Nikiforov book - he supposes nothing ever is.

Because if his life is like a romance novel, he wouldn't be running late.

8:17PM.

Of course. 

He sighs as he parks in one of the empty spots before sprinting into the rink.

He is immediately bombarded with an onslaught of air conditioning. He has almost forgotten how cold ice rinks are. Despite the temperature, the rink is nice, at least. It's modern with sleek glass windows and glossy white floors but also has a somewhat homey feeling. There is a small shack near the back that sells hot drinks and fire place for patrons to warm up.

At the very least, it's a nice place for a date. Because that what this is - a date.

He spots Yuuri almost immediately. He is already dressed in a comfortable track outfit and his skates. Victor wonders how long he has been waiting like this.

Yuuri waves him over nervously.

"You're late," Yuuri tuts as Victor approaches him.

Victor sighs again.

Yuuri has probably been waiting for an hour, possibly more if Victor is being honest. He knows Yuuri doesn’t mean any malice when he says that, but he can’t help but feel guilty for making him wait. He doesn't mean to be late to their date (not that anyone ever purposefully is late to a date) but he finds himself constantly being late. He’s somehow always caught up editing a part of a book or working on his movie or doing another stupid task that could easily be delegated to someone else. But no, he has to be stuck at the studio when he could be on a date with the most precious person in Victor’s life.

Yuuri doesn't deserve to wait for him. He honestly deserves the world and unfortunately Victor can’t give him that. Not with his current schedule, at least.

"You're lucky they have late sessions open," Yuuri chides playfully. He gestures for Victor to sit beside him, tapping the empty seat with his palm.

Victor lets out an exasperated sigh. He unceremoniously drops his bags onto the metal bench beside Yuuri, not caring that the action creates a loud noise that carries around the rink. It doesn’t take much longer before Victor all but collapses onto the metal bench, his body draping over the seat dramatically.

"You'll have to excuse me but the guy at the border asked me a million questions before I could cross."

Yuuri clicks his tongue on the roof of his mouth. "Excuses, excuses," he jokes.

"I'm not lying! It really did take hours!"

And it's true; it took almost two hours to move less than a few meters. The patroller was insistent on asking Victor every question. What is a Russian doing trying to enter the United States? Why is he currently in Canada? Does he have any potential weapons? Is it okay if they search his trunk? And even though he has plenty of visas, Victor is pretty sure he was called a spy on more than one occasion.

Victor despises the border more than anything. Scratch that, he hates the American-Canadian border between Windsor and Detroit that insists on asking too many probing questions that keep him just that much further away from Yuuri.

And he hates it. He hates the waiting. He hates the traffic. He hates that he has to work in Canada instead of the United States.

It is so ridiculous, if Victor is being honest. He knows that Canada has better snow cover and it is cheaper to film, but that doesn’t mean they have to shoot a movie there. Detroit gets just as much snow as Toronto!

"Yeah, I know," Yuuri says. As a form of sympathy, he holds out a Styrofoam cup of coffee - if coffee with three packets of sugar and one cup of creme could even be considered coffee anymore - towards Victor.

Victor accepts the cup and takes a long sip, appreciating how thoughtful Yuuri is to get him a drink. Albeit, it is rather cold by now - borderline room temperature - but he finishes half of the cup in one whole sip. Besides, he didn't spend all that time at the border for coffee.

“That’s how the border is, unfortunately,” Yuuri says. He offers him a smile and Victor thinks to himself that his smile alone has made the trip worth it. The way his cheeks turn a bit pink and his eyes crinkle at the corners, it is just so beautiful. He is so beautiful. Victor wonders if he could bottle up that smile and take it with him to Canada. At least that would make the distance more bearable...

"Mm," Victor hums in agreement.

"I hate it," Victor complains sincerely.

He hates all of it. He hates that Yuuri has been waiting hours for him, his rental skates tied, wondering when Victor is finally going to show up - or at this point, if he is going to show up. He hates that he has to be stuck answering questions about his reason for entering the country.

And worse of all, he hates being so far from Yuuri.

“I know,” Yuuri agrees sympathetically. “But you’re here now and we should make the best of that before the rink closes.”

“You’re right,” Victor agrees with a nod. After all, he can’t leave Yuuri waiting any longer, not if he wants to skate.

He immediately unzips his track bag and pulls out his skates. The boot is a standard black boot customized to fit his foot but aside from that, the boot isn’t all that interesting. The real interest lies in the blades. They are plated in 24 karat gold with an inscription that reads Stammi Vicino . They are a gift - a sort of homage to his recent book. If Victor is being honest, they are a bit too much, even for him - the self proclaimed king of extra - but he hopes they could impress Yuuri.

If nothing else, he hopes it will distract from his skating.

"Do you think anyone would care if I just stay here?" Victor asks, looking up at Yuuri through his eyelashes.

He knows that is a silly thing to ask; of course, other people would care, even if Victor doesn’t.

For one, his manager would probably have the most violent of reactions. Screaming on the top of his lungs about how irresponsible it is to leave in the middle of filming a movie adaptation for his own book. He can basically hear him now. "Victor, come back to Canada!"; "Victor, you have to finish your own movie!"; “Victor, stop being so selfish!”. Although, he knows he could probably end up convincing him that the sudden leave would be a good idea, in the end. Yakov might seem harsh on the outside, but he does have a soft spot for Victor.

While Yakov wouldn’t be impossible to handle, it would be his fans that would have the more drastic reaction. There would be thousands of theories on his fan forums (because apparently that is a thing) of where he went. Everything from “he was kidnapped” to “he has a secret love affair” - which wouldn’t be that far off - would circulate all of social media. He is thankful for his fan base, but sometimes he knows they are a bit too intense. They once tracked him down from a vague photo of an octopus statue to a remote place in Japan. But after a while, he is sure that they would warm up to the idea of him living in Detroit.

However, he doesn’t care about what his fans or Yakov has to think about his decision. He wants to know how Yuuri would react - because that's all what matters in the end.

Would he let him stay or would he reject him and force him to finish his movie?

It's so strange to say (mostly because he doesn't even live here) but he feels as though Detroit is so familiar. He doesn't want to leave Detroit; not now and not ever. The bustling atmosphere, the annoying subway system, the overly sweet food for goodness sake. It has all somehow become his home - or rather his home away from him - much more than Toronto ever could.

Or maybe, he just doesn't want to leave Yuuri.

Yuuri pauses, as if the words are caught in his throat.

"I think you would," he finally says.

Victor pouts. To protest, he lays down on the bench, spreading his legs to cover the entire length of the bench.

He is entirely content on residing forever on this metal bench in the middle of a basically empty rink of it means he could be with Yuuri more.

That actually doesn't sound like such a bad idea...

"Yeah, but I would get to see you more," Victor entices.

He images his life with Yuuri. They could easily live out the rest of their lives together: buy a nice suburban home, get a boring 9-5 job, and have a few thousand poodles to call their own. It truly sound like the American Dream, at the very least.

Yuuri, however, breaks him out of his thoughts by forcefully pushing his legs off of the bench. "You have a movie to finish!" he reminds him.

Victor internally groans.

He doesn't want to work on some stupid, young adult movie!

But he knows Yuuri is right - as per usual. Yuuri belongs in Detroit and Victor belongs in Canada. But only for the time being. As soon as the movie is done filming, Victor plans to have a one way ticket to Detroit and never leave Yuuri’s side ever again.

"Besides, it's not that far! It's only an hour," Yuuri says optimistically.

Victor narrows his eyes at him.

"Two with the border," Victor reminds him sourly.

Yuuri flinches, averting his eyes to the ground.

Victor mentally kicks himself for making that comment. He truly doesn’t mean to sound rude or hostile when he says it, but it just comes out that way. He supposes he is merely frustrated (and frankly a bit cranky) that Yuuri doesn't seem to understand. A two hour distance to see his love is absolutely torture for him, but it is worth it just to see Yuuri.

“Sorry,” Victor mutters, softly.

He turns his attention towards putting on his skates. He hastily slides his foot into his boot, not caring that he is stretching them out in the process (besides, he doesn’t really need them to be perfect and he doesn’t have that many instances in which he will need such nice ice skates). He proceeds to lazily tie up his skates, which he knows he is positively butchering but he doesn't care. He wants to get out on the ice with Yuuri as quick as possible, and if that means ruining his skates, then so be it.

"It’s okay. I know you’re tired. I only mean that...well...if you were back in Russia, it would be more," Yuuri points out.

"Mm," Victor hums in agreement.

He knows Yuuri is only trying to lighten the mood with his comment but it only serves to remind him of their imminent deadline. Victor will one day have to return to Russia.

And Yuuri?

Well, Victor could never force Yuuri to follow him. He needs to finish his degree, return to his Japan, and never think of Victor ever again.

"But that won't be for a while," Victor says hopefully.

He slides his hand over Yuuri's, his hand ghosting over his knuckles.

Yuuri, however, retracts his hand.

It's official: the mood has soured.

The two sit in silence, the tension practically palpable.

Victor scrambles to finish tying up his skates to the best of his ability. They aren't perfectly fitted and one is much tighter than the other, if he is being completely honest, but he doesn't exactly care. He would much rather have blisters on his feet for the next week than sit in uncomfortable silence with Yuuri any longer.

"We should get to the ice before it closes," Victor says, breaking the silence.

Yuuri only nods in response.

Victor pushes himself off the bench with his palms, trying to stand up straight on his skates. It doesn’t go as well has he thought in his head. He is wobbling (a lot more than someone with custom skates should be), trying to regain his balance, before falling on the floor spectacularly.

Yuui giggles as effortlessly stands up from the bench, expertly balancing on the thin blade. He extends his hand for Victor and hoists him back onto his feet.

“Don’t worry, balancing on skates is really difficult.”

Victor ignores that comment and glances over his shoulder, hoping that no one caught him falling.

He’s thankful there aren't that many people at the rink, which is to be expected at six o'clock on a random Wednesday in early December, to see him make such a fool of himself. There is a family trying to teach their five year old how to ice skate while their other child tries to show his parents that he can jump on the ice. Towards the back is a group of boys who are having a competition to see who can jump over the banister which is more of a competition of who can slam into the banister fastest.

The only slightly suspicious people are two girls whispering and giggling to each other (and sometimes looking over at them). He writes them as off as innocent fans and decides to ignore them. Aside from them, there doesn't seem to be anyone he should be wary of.

Victor likes to think that is a good thing. Less people means less likely to be noticed and more likely to have an intimate date.

"Here, I'll go first," Yuuri says, stepping onto the ice. Victor marvels at how Yuuri glides onto the ice. If Victor is being honest, he looks as though he is flying.

Victor, however, wobbles the moment he places the edge of the blade on the ice. He tries not to immediately fall by holding out his arms and scrambling to the nearest wall. He tries to stand straight using the wall as leverage, but it only makes him lose his footing slightly. For some who loves ice skating so much, one would think he would be decent. He even used to skate (competitively, nonetheless!).

Alas, he must have forgotten everything because he is awful - there really is no eloquent way to describe it; he sucks.

"Can I have some help?" Victor calls as he desperately clings to the walls on the rink as his feet slip beneath him. He used to have so much control over his skating when he was thirteen. What happened?

Now, Victor is two steps away from falling. He doesn’t want to fall - he doesn't exactly fancy sitting in wet pants for his ride home - and he certainly doesn't want to fall in front of Yuuri.

He is supposed to be suave and charming (and, frankly, good at ice skating). Yuuri is supposed to be clinging on to him, asking for him to hold his hand to which Victor would lead him to skate. Not the other way around!

Yuuri chuckles a bit before placing a hand in front of his mouth in an effort to conceal his laughs.

"Of course," he agrees.

Yuuri skates over to the wall Victor is clinging to. He takes Victor's hand into his, his hand a bit clammy but welcomed all the same. He supposes this is better than falling on his ass because falling on your ass in front of your lover doesn't exactly classify as being charming. In fact, it's the exact opposite of being charming.

Yuuri looks down at their hands. Victor wonders if he can too see how his fingers fill in the empty spaces.

"I thought you'd be better at this," Yuuri admits.

Victor supposes he did too. Once upon a time, he was a great skater - one of the best - but now he can barely stand up straight without some sort of support. He supposes that is what he gets for retiring before his growth spurt.

Victor, however, tries not to be bothered by his terrible skating. After all, it’s an excuse to hold Yuuri’s hand, and any excuse to hold his hand is worth something.

"Maybe I'm just pretending so that you'd hold my hand."

"Then you wouldn't mind if I let go?" Yuuri teases.

Yuuri slips his hand out of Victor’s and watches as he flounders to regain his balance. Quickly, Victor grabs for Yuuri’s wrist, trying to use Yuuri as support.

"I most definitely would!" he insists. When he becomes stable again, he wraps his arm around Yuuri's shoulder, snuggling into his side. "Who else will warm me up?"

"Mm, of course," Yuuri agrees.

“This is all I want,” Victor says. He nuzzles into Yuuri’s neck, drinking in his warm lavender scent.

“I guess that saves me the trouble of picking out a present for your birthday. That’s coming up soon, right? The twenty fifth?”

Victor pauses.

Has he not noticed that it is only a few weeks away? Has he really not noticed how much time has passed?

Has it really been two months since he met Yuuri?

Victor shrugs his shoulders. "Yeah, I guess," he answers indifferently.

Victor honestly doesn't think it is all that important. He will turn another year - the ripe and boring age of 28 - and life will go on in the same monotonous way. His birthday just another reminder that he's one year closer to becoming irrelevant; after all, no one wants to buy young adult books from an ugly, balding thirty year old has-been.

Besides, there are more important things to celebrate than his birthday. There’s the holidays and new years and their two month anniversary.

"If you're still around, maybe we can do something fun," Yuuri suggests with a smile.

Victor lights up at the mere thought of celebrating his birthday with Yuuri. However, he must remain calm. He is supposed to be aloof and suave, after all.

"It depends on what you have in mind," Victor says, trying to remain indifferent.

Victor's hoping he suggests a rather intimate date - one with candles and red wine and maybe some snuggling - because truly that is all he wants for his birthday. He doesn't want a big celebration, if he is being honest. He has been around house parties with drinking and loud music and more sexual contact than he is comfortable with. Those aren't exactly his concept of a good night. He would much rather spend the day with Yuuri, even if it is just menial tasks like doing homework or cleaning his house.

But he supposes he can humor Yuuri with his ideas.

"We can combine it with the holidays! Phichit and I usually have a dinner together."

Victor tries not to scowl at that. As much as he likes Yuuri's friend, he doesn't exactly want to share his birthday with him. He wants to have a romantic birthday with Yuuri and Yuuri alone; and he can't exactly do that with his third wheel friend.

"It's pretty low key," Yuuri continues. It does little to make the party more enticing. "But we also do a gift exchange."

Victor lights up at the mention of a gift exchange.

"Then I'll get you a giant gift!" he declares cheerfully.

He is great at giving gifts! He once got his cousin tickets to some boy band and he couldn’t stop talking about it for years to come. So he wonders what he should get for Yuuri - or rather, what is deserving of Yuuri’s grace. Maybe a new car or a custom Gucci suit or a house conveniently next to him in Toronto? Or maybe something more intimate like a pair of matching promise rings?

However, Yuuri immediately shoots down that idea.

"That's not necessary," Yuuri admits.

He awkwardly pulls down his shirt. Victor notices it looks looser on him than when he first bought it for him. Actually, he bought it not that long ago yet it hangs on his body like it doesn’t fit. Now that he thinks about it, Yuuri looks much more muscular than he remembers. His arms and calves are much more well defined and his small muffin top is no longer as pronounced. Even his face is more angular than he remembers.

He wonders what other subtle changes he has missed.

"I don't really celebrate Christmas."

"Either do I," Victor says quickly.

"So no gifts then," Yuuri warns.

"Fine," Victor pouts, reluctantly. "I'll just have to save it for your birthday! Don't tell me you don't celebrate that either."

"No, I do." His empty hand begins to pull at the fringe of his his shirt. He pulls at a loose thread before adding "sort of."

"Well when is it?"

Yuuri furrows his eyebrows. "Why?"

"Maybe I want to see if your astrology sign is compatible with mine," Victor says. He tries to keep a deadpan face, but that lasts all of three seconds before he breaks his serious demeanor and laughs.

Yuuri snorts. It's not the most pleasant of sounds but Victor wants to hear it on repeat. He wants to hear every noise Yuuri as to make.  

"Didn't know you believe in that stuff," Yuuri points out.

"I don't," Victor scoffs.

Yuuri doesn’t look impressed.

"Look, I just need an excuse to know," Victor finally admits.

"Oh, well..." He inhales through his nose before admitting "It passed."

Victor freezes.

No it couldn't have passed!

He is supposed to plan him a giant birthday party with a fancy dinner and fine wine and thousands of little gifts.

Now what is he supposed to do?

"Passed? Yuuri!" Victor whines.

He must be the worst boyfriend in the history of boyfriends. Not only did he forget about his birthday - and that is a terrible offence as it is - but he didn't even know the date!

Yuuri may as well break up with him now.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Victor moans. "I could've thrown you a party! With a stripper pole! Those are always fun!"

Yuuri rolls his eyes. "Thanks but I try to keep my birthday pretty low key. Wouldn't want the paparazzi taking pictures of a world famous writer strip on a pole."

"Who says I would strip," Victor asserts with a suggestive smile.

Victor can imagine Yuuri being a rather good stripper. At the very least, he would be enticing on a pole: his thick thighs wrapped around the metal and his torso exposed while he strip teases the audience. Victor feels himself heating up at the mere thought of something so erotic.

"No strip parties," he warns stubbornly.

"Fine," Victor agrees reluctantly. He crosses his arm, locking them over his chest stubbornly. "But at least tell me the date. I want to be ready for next year!"

"It's...November 29th," he mumbles.

November 29th?

As in the November 29th that was one week ago?

That November 29th?

"Yuuri!" he whines.

Yuuri winces.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Victor complains loudly.

Yuuri, however, isn’t exactly pleased with his childish behavior. He covers Victor's mouth with his hand and, of course, he retaliates by swiping the palm of his hand with his tongue.

"Ew! Victor!" he shrieks and pulls his hand away. He wipes the excess saliva off the back of his hand onto his pants. "Was that necessary?"

"Yes because this is important! Your birthday was a week ago and you didn't let me celebrate it with you!" he says with a pout.

Yuuri adverts his eyes to the ice, watching as their slow movements cut up the ice in long scrapes "Well you were filming," he says, his voice small. "I can't ask you to come for as dumb as my birthday."

Victor frowns.

Nothing that can be associated with Yuuri could ever be classified as dumb, especially not something as important as his birthday.

"I could've gotten a few days off and come," Victor assures him.

"Well I was away!"

Victor raises an eyebrow.

"For Thanksgiving," Yuuri adds quickly, as if he is covering for something. Victor, however, isn’t exactly sure what he could be covering for. "I went home to visit family."

Victor places his free hand on his hip, glaring at Yuuri much like a mother would to her child.

"So you celebrate American Thanksgiving but not your birthday?"

Yuuri easily stops their causal loop around the rink. He turns around and faces Victor.

"Well I had classes off so I decided to go away. I hardly call that a celebration," he defends with a huff. "It just so happened to fall on my birthday."

Victor shakes his head. That is hardly a good enough excuse.

"Doesn't matter, I need to get you a present. Or ten.” He scans Yuuri once, his eyes wandering up and down his body. He drinks in his form, trying to determine his size (and maybe admire his physical beauty more). “What's your size again?"

Yuuri glares at him.

"No presents," Yuuri insists and skates away from Victor.

Victor tries to catch up to him (tries being the key word). He stumbles a bit as he tries to move his legs forward but he ends up moving backwards and ends up at the wall. He supposes he should be happy that he at least didn’t fall this time.

He sighs and gives up on the idea of catching up to (and frankly impressing) Yuuri with his skating. It's stupid to try to catch up with him - he's far too fast for someone with practically no skill at ice skating (anymore, Victor reminds himself; because he was once a great skater).

Instead, Victor plants himself in his cozy spot hanging on to the wall as he waits for Yuuri to loop back around meet him again.

After about two laps around the rink, Yuuri stops his teasing and returns to Victor’s side.

"How about I pay for your coffee next time as a birthday gift?" Victor offers as he approaches.

Yuuri frowns. "You don't have to pay for anything," he assures him.

“But what if I want to?” Victor asks. He pushes himself off the wall trying to get as close to Yuuri as possible.

Yuuri glares at him.

"How about I throw a party next week?” Victor suggests instead. “Right before mine."

Victor wobbles a bit as he approaches Yuuri. He grabs onto his partner for balance but still finds himself stumbling over his sloppy footwork.

Yuuri seems to sympathize his situation and steadies Victor by taking his hand into his once more.

"I'm sorry, Victor, but I'll be away.”

Victor taps a finger to his bottom lip "You seem to travel a lot for a broke university student," he points out.

Yuuri turns around, his blades scratching on the ice in one quick movement. "Who said I was broke?" 

"Aren't all college kids broke?"

"Touché," Yuuri supposes. "But I'm not broke; I'm just not as rich as you."

Victor has to agree with that. Of course he isn't as rich as him, and he obviously doesn't expect him to be. Yuuri is still in university - still wondering what he wants to do with his life - while Victor has already lived through his peak. He probably has enough money to pay for Yuuri’s tuition ten times over with money to spare.

"Well, maybe if you wrote a popular book that turned into a movie then you too could be rich and famous too."

Yuuri raises his eyebrows. "Is that your advice?"

"No, my advice is to date a popular author who is rich enough to buy you everything you need, if you'd let me.”

The corners of Yuuri's lips turn upwards. It's a sweet and innocent smile, one that Victor wants keep for himself.

"Thanks but I'm fine on my own."

Victor shrugs indifferently. "If you insist."

The two finish another slow lap around the rink when Victor notices something wrong. Well it's not really something wrong, but he does notice someone staring at them - or rather two people staring at them. The two teenage girls from earlier are giving subtle glances at the two of them at every available opportunity. When Victor gives them a look, they immediately look and continue to whisper to themselves.

Fans. Of course.

He should be used to this kind of attention being a famous author and all, but he still finds it jarring when he gets noticed in public. He supposes he may as well address it now before it spoils his date with Yuuri.

As Victor and Yuuri lap around the rink, he overhears one of the girls say “you go up to him!”

"No you!" the other girl insists.

The second girl pushes her friend and she stumbles a bit before regaining her footing.

Victor knows he shouldn't be listening in on their conversations but he can’t help but to. They are talking about him, after all.

"Ah, you two must be fans," Victor says, as they pass by.

The two girls nod.

Victor forces a smile.

"Do you want me to sign an autograph?" he offers, hoping he can end this interaction before his date with Yuuri is ruined.

The two glance at each other, almost as if they are confused by Victor's question.

The first girl turns to Yuuri and asks "You're Katsuki Yuuri, right?"

Victor looks over at Yuuri, trying to formulate some sort of explanation.

They must be friends or family (even if they don’t look anything like him) or somehow know that he is Victor’s boyfriend and are trying to get the first bit of information before anyone else can.

However, Yuuri puts on a smile for the girls, one Victor immediately knows is fake. Yuuri doesn't smile like that - his teeth baring and lips pulled wide. Yuuri's smiles are soft with the slightest hint of dimples. And yet, it looks so natural - that if someone didn't know Yuuri they would think it were genuine - and definitely well practiced.

"Yes!"

The girls squeal at a frequency Victor swears can only be heard by dogs, and even then it is probably too high and too obnoxious.

Victor wonders what these two want from Yuuri. They are clearly too young to be paparazzi since they can’t be older than sixteen, but seem to know him well enough. Or at least, well enough to know his first and last name.

Victor supposes they must be his friends or something like that.

"We're big fans!" the first girl exclaims.

"Really big fans!" the second one parrots.

Fans? Victor asks himself.

"Can we take a picture?"

Victor stifles. He's definitely not jealous - Victor Nikiforov does not get jealous over sixteen year old brats. No, he's merely upset that they have the audacity to call themselves Yuuri's biggest fans when clearly that designation belongs to Victor and Victor alone.

Yeah, that must be it.

So when Yuuri smiles at them and drops Victor’s hand, he can’t help but to feel a little salty.

"Of course!" Yuuri agrees with fake enthusiasm. "Victor, do you mind taking a picture of us?"

Victor doesn’t even have time to agree (or even process his thoughts) before a phone is thrust into his hands. The three pose with Yuuri in the middle, their arms around his hip and standing rather closer for fans. He doesn't even look at them as he robotically snaps a few pictures. He isn't even sure if they are even good - and he doubts under the florescent lights of the rink that it is decent - but he doesn't care.

"Thanks so much!" one of the girls gawks as she takes her phone.

"The others will never believe it!" the second girl agrees.

Victor sulks and possessively takes Yuuri's hand into his.

"Good luck next week! I know you'll win gold!" one of the girls shouts.

The other girl says something in a foreign language - which Victor knows must be Japanese - before bowing.

Yuuri waves to them as they skate away. He turns towards Victor and mutters a quick “sorry.”

Victor is dumbfounded.

Absolutely dumbfounded.

He doesn't know what to say. And as a writer, that is quite a feat to be completely speechless.

Victor just stares at him, his mouth dry.

What had just happened?

"Is there anything you're not telling me?" Victor finally asks. He is used to fans coming up to him, even fans coming up to family on some occasions. But his boyfriend?

Victor frowns. He's not mad, per say. Disappointed maybe, but not in Yuuri - never in Yuuri - only in himself. As his boyfriend, Victor should know everything about Yuuri. Yet it seems he doesn't know his birthday or if their astrology signs are compatible or whatever gold he is supposed to win this week.

"No, it's just um..." Yuuri swallows nervously.

Victor only raises his eyebrows.

"I kinda have a fan club," he admits quickly. It sounds like a lie, but he lets Yuuri explain himself. "At school. You know, sports and stuff. I-I play sports."

Victor scans him curiously. He doesn't exactly take him for a world class athlete, or at least not the sort of athletes he is accustomed to. Yuuri is rather lean, his body matching a dancer more so than an athlete.

"What do you play?" Victor asks.

"Guess."

Victor raises his eyebrows. "Hmmm...well not basketball cause you're too short," he supposes. "Maybe track and field?"

Yuuri rolls his brown eyes. "Guess again."

"I need a hint," Victor whines.

"Hmm...How about something cold?"

"Hockey!?" Victor blurts.

He knows he probably isn't a pathetic excuse for an ice rink called hockey players, but he can't think of any other cold sport that would have such avid fans; and therefore, he must be a hockey player.

"Yuuri, no offence, but I can't see you playing hockey," Victor confesses.

Yuuri pouts. "Hey, I'm rather good on the ice!"

Victor tries to imagine Yuuri as a hockey player, but every time he sees him more as an ice dancer than anything else. Yuuri isn't exactly the most intimidating of people - his head only reaches Victor’s eye level and his body is far too lean to hurt anyone - so it doesn’t seem right that he is a hockey player.

"I just can't see it," Victor admits.

Yuuri frowns. "That I'm good on the ice?"

"That you're a hockey player," Victor corrects. He taps him on the nose playfully.

"Victor," he whines.

Victor all but melts at the way he says his name. He loves the extra syllable he adds at the end of his name as if it is his own special nickname.

"Stop teasing me. You know I'm an ice skater," Yuuri clarifies.

Victor flashes him a fake smile. "I know," he lies.

It's official: he's the worst boyfriend ever.

"But I think you need to prove it," Victor challenges in an attempt to change the conversation.

Yuuri licks his lip.

Yuuri sets Victor against the wall, positioning him to see the entire rink.

When he is sure that Victor is stable without his help, Yuuri expertly skates backwards along the edge of the rink. He builds up speed, crossing his legs over each other as he finishes one loop. Yuuri looks over his shoulder and turns forward before launching himself off of his outside edge. There are three and a half - perfect - rotations before he lands facing backwards, his arms spread out.

Victor gapes.

He automatically recognizes it as a triple axel - he prides himself on being able to distinguish the different jumps - even if it is the easiest to recognize.

Yuuri flashes him a shy smile before returning to his side.

"Sorry, I’m wearing rentals and I have stretched yet," he apologizes earnestly. He pants a bit, his chest heaving slightly as he tries to catch his breath.

Victor gawks. If this is him before stretching, he couldn't imagine what he is like after.

"You know you're amazing, right?" Victor praises.

"Thanks," he mumbles.

"It's just funny that I'd meet a real Yuri who is so good at ice skating," Victor points out tapping a finger to his lips.

"What a coincidence," Yuuri says dryly.

"So you compete for your school?"

Yuuri shrugs. "Yeah, I guess," he confirms casually.

"Well...can I come to a skating competition?"

Yuuri’s eyes widen. "What!?" he sputters.

"Yuuri," he says, drawling out his name longer than it needs to be.

"No,” he says simply.

"No? Why not? I thought we were..." He gestures between them.

He knows what they have isn't official - they have yet to define the relationship publicly aside from a few vague pictures - but he likes to think they are more than friends.

Besides, he wants them to be official. He wants to declare his love for Yuuri, preferably as publicly a possible (on top of a roof with a megaphone, if he has to).

"We are it's just that..." Yuuri says, fumbling over his words.

Victor finds it endearing. The way his ears turn a bright red, the way he gets all flustered and stumbles over his words. It reminds him of their first meeting.

"Well I wouldn't want to disappoint you," he finally admits.

Victor gapes.

Yuuri?

Disappoint him?

That's physically impossible. Nothing Yuuri could do would ever disappoint Victor.

Okay, maybe not everything (Victor would surely be disappointed if he found out he murdered someone, but certainly he would never be disappointed by anything related to his ice skating).

He would be more than happy to see him wear a tight fitting costume (the tighter and flashier the better). To be honest, he would be content watching Yuuri loop around the rink if that is all his performance is but seeing that he could pull off a triple axel, he certainly couldn't be bad. He's at least as good as Jean-Jacques Leroy.

"You could never," he maintains.

Yuuri tilts his head up, his brown eyes meeting Victor’s. They are sparkling, as if he is looking for some sort of answer.

"Even if I couldn't land a quadruple flip?"

Victor throws his head back and laughs. Of course Yuuri would think that he has to perform an impossible move just to please him. 

"Well according to you, even the world champion can't land one, so you don’t have to."

Yuuri shakes his head, his bangs promptly falling into his face as he does so. Victor realizes that they are getting quite long, especially compared to when they first met. His bangs previously only reached halfway down his forehead; now they extend to the tops of his eyelids. He wonders if he will cut it or let it grow long.

And, if Victor is being honest, it is not just his hair that has changed.

"Still, I couldn't ask you to take away time from your movie," Yuuri insists.

"It's not a big deal," Victor lies.

He knows that it is a big deal - he is expected to be at his own book’s movie adaptation - and he gets yelled at by Yakov constantly about his absences.

And yet, he cannot find the energy care.

He would much rather see Yuuri skate than watch Jean-Jacques Leroy, even if Yuuri isn't technically a professional. He supposes there is some sort of unexplainable flare when he skates but it is more of a distinctive presence he has than any true artistry.

"Still,” Yuuri breathes out.

Victor clears his throat. "You don't have to feel obligated to invite me."

"No- it's not that!” Yuuri urges.

Victor tilts his head to the right.

"It's not for a while," Yuuri quickly adds, as if it is more of an afterthought than a well planned statement. "But I want you to come to one of my competitions."

Yuuri wants him to come to a competition?

Yuuri actually wants to share a part of his life with Victor?

Victor feels like he is flying. He flashes him a bright smile.

"Alright. You’ll have to tell me when it is so I can come down and record you and show the whole world my amazing Yuuri."

"Of course,” he says. “Now, let's get you off the ice before you fall on your face."

“Yuuri!” Victor groans.

Yuuri only laugh in response.

Makkachin greets Victor when he opens the door, practically assaulting him with kisses when he enters his apartment. Victor laughs and gives him pat on the head before collapsing on the couch after a long day. The drive back to Toronto was absolutely brutal, but it was all worth it to see Yuuri. Nevertheless, he definitely needs some time to relax.

Makkachin immediately join him on the couch, sitting between Victor’s legs. It’s uncomfortable for such a big dog to rest on his legs, but Victor doesn’t really mind. Instead, he reaches for his laptop and opens a new tab on his internet browser.

"Alright, Yuuri Katsuki. Let's see who you are," Victor says to his dog.

Makkachin just looks at him with a blank expression, tongue lolling out of his mouth.

And he knows it is silly to speak to his dog as if she is a person but he finds some sort of comfort in it.

Especially when he's without Yuuri...

He types 'Yuuri Katsuki' into the search bar before hitting enter on his keyboard. He doesn't exactly know what he expects from his search. Maybe a few blurry videos from school competitions and a newspaper article about him - certainly not anything too noteworthy - however, he is surprised to find over 70,000 results.

His eyes scan through the results. To his dismay, most of them are in Japanese.

Of course.

He tries to translate them but it only becomes garbled gibberish about “courage” and “winning”. He sighs and filters the results to English only.

The first result is a video titled 'Katsuki Yuuri 2015 SP - Grand Prix Series'. Victor immediately exits out of that. That can't be him; Yuuri doesn't even drive let alone race sports cars.

He scrolls down to the second result.

'Yuuri (@yuurikatsuki) - Instagram Photos and Videos'

Now that could be him. He clicks on the Instagram profile only to be immediately disappointed once more. It is mostly pictures of ice skates or obligatory product placements and less cute pictures of Yuuri. He does have a surprising amount of followers though.

He sighs and returns to the original search page. He scrolls through the results to find something else more revealing.

'Japan's Ace Katsuki Yuuri tries to land a Quadruple Flip'

Now that piques his interests.

He quickly opens the article, drinking in every last word.

'Katsuki Yuuri, World Champion and Olympian, is rumoured to be attempting a Quadruple Flip. The jump is rumored to appear in his Free Skate this season, but is not a part of his official program. For those unaware, a flip jump which has a back facing take from the inside edge with a toe pick assist, and lands backwards on the outside edge of the opposite foot. This jump has yet to be ratified by any professional skater despite being attempted by countless others.

Reports claim he has been practicing the jump at a closed practice session earlier this week. The rumour has yet to be confirmed by the skater himself, but his coach has given us this comment:

"We are working towards incorporating new elements into his [Katsuki Yuuri] performance so please continue to support him."

While we still cannot be sure that these new elements are new jumps, but we are certain that this season will be one to remember

Edit: Previous versions of this article incorrectly stated that the jump is rumored to appear in his Short Program. This has been revised to reflect the newest information in which the jump is rumored to appear in his Free Program.'

"World champion?"

It sounds so foreign on his tongue: his lover a World Champion? And yet, it is so fitting. Of course Yuuri is a professional ice skater; how else would he be so good back at the rink? Everything seems to make sense: the triple jump, why he is travelling so often, why he loves Victor’s newest novel!

“Can you believe Yuuri is the World Champion!?” Victor asks his dog.

Makkachin only tilts her head.

Of course a dog wouldn’t give a good enough response.

He lets out a long winded sigh and gives her a scratch behind her ear. He can’t really blame his dog for not being as excited as he is.

He saves the link to his article before clicking back to the google results page. He refines his search to 'Yuuri Katsuki World Champion Ice Skating'.

When he taps enter, he is bombarded with thousands of results.

The first few results are images of Yuuri in various different costumes. The outfits are rather understated (especially for an ice skater) but they fit him rather well. Victor immediately saves every single photo he can find as if they will somehow vanish off of the internet when he looks away. He is definitely going to print them out and hang them for everyone to see.

After saving as many pictures as possible, Victor clicks out of the images and back to the main search page. He scrolls through two different Wikipedia articles dedicated to him - one of them purely dedicated to all of his wins. He bookmarks those for later because he will definitely want to look at those later. For research, of course.

The last result on the first page is a link to the Japanese Skating Federation’s Youtube channel. Now that’s what he wants to see. He clicks the link and is brought to a page with over twenty different videos of his performances - all in 1080p High Definition with music and commentary.

He clicks on the first result ‘Katsuki Yuuri Olympics 2014 - FS’

And he watches as his boyfriend skates out onto the ice.

He is beautiful. His hair is gelled, completely slicked back to show off his facial features. When he skates in front of the camera, Victor can tell he is wearing a bit of sparkly eye shadow and a winged liner. He looks so much more mature, as if he has somehow aged twenty years; and if Victor is being honest, he doesn't think he could recognize him.

Of course that is ridiculous - he could probably recognize him in a dark alleyway just by his silhouette alone - but there is something inherently different about him in the video.

Victor thinks it must be the rather scandalous outfit and his lack of glasses.

Yuuri begins his routine with his arms running down his body sensually. He lifts his arms over his head and strikes a pose, blowing a kiss at the camera.

Victor licks his lips. There is something so alluring and enticing and downright intimate about the way he presents himself on the ice. It's almost like watching a porn.

The way he moves his hips and legs in such a seductive pattern is intoxicating. His step sequences are downright hypnotizing and his jumps are executed perfectly. He exudes so much confidence on the ice that it's hard to even say that he is the same person.

When the song ends, Yuuri’s hands are wrapped above his head, his hip jutting out in a sensual pose.

"Wow," Victor breathes out when the video concludes.

There really are no words to describe him. Maybe enticing, alluring, (delicious?) but even then it simply doesn't capture the true seduction that is Yuuri Katsuki.

"He's amazing, right?" he asks his dog.

Makkachin licks his hand in response.

Not helping, but he think that is a good of a sign as any (especially from a dog) that she agrees.

He easily clicks to another video, this one dating back to 2011. It is much more innocent than the last one, beginning with him raising his hand towards the sky.  

It doesn't take long until he watches every single available video of him skating - including poor fan footage and blurry low resolution from his junior years.

Victor yawns and stretches out on his couch.

He looks over at the digital numbers on the computer screen.

5:17AM.

So much for trying to relax...

Yuuri sighs and looks at the time.

16:42.

(And yes, he still has his time set to military time, thank you very much).

The digital numbers practically mock him; those little digital numbers taunting and teasing him. He probably has at least another hour until Victor arrives, maybe more if he gets stuck at the border again. But he doesn’t care because it is all worth it to see him. To see him come into the coffee shop like a whirlwind, providing Yuuri with a heart-shaped smile, and whispering sweet apologies before giving him a kiss is worth waiting for hours.

He rests his hands in his palms and let's out an exasperated sigh. He supposes there isn't much to do aside from wait. After all, he can't exactly control the border.

Maybe he could get some work done, at the very least. He still has a few more assignments he has to hand in before he leaves for the Grand Prix Final.

He pulls out his laptop and opens his unfinished document. English literature. He’s always hated English literature. There’s barely fifty words written and he is already bored with the topic. He is supposed to analyze some poem written back in the 1600s about some woman who is like a rose. Yuuri doesn’t see the appeal of poetry.

He nervously bounces his leg as he continues to type up his essay. He finds that his eyes continue to get distracted and nervously flicker between the entrance and his work, more occupied with seeing everyone who enters the coffee shop than his essay. 

He looks at the time once more.

16:43.

This is going to take forever, isn't it?

He sighs and continues to type, occasionally taking sips from his tea.  

He is about a paragraph in when he sees Victor walk in. Or rather, rush in with snow still clinging to his bulky coat and scarf.

If Yuuri is being honest, he looks rather tired. His eyes look rather sullen with dark circles underneath them. His clothes are a tad disheveled and his hair isn’t even neatly combed. He looks oddly vulnerable.

And yet, Yuuri thinks he looks absolutely stunning.

Yuuri waves him over shyly.

“What are you doing?” Victor asks when he walks over to Yuuri’s spot near the corner of the cafe.

“Just some homework,” Yuuri answers nonchalantly. He turns around his laptop, showing off his half-written essay and an internet article about MLA format. 

“Mmm,” Victor hums before closing the top of his laptop.

"Hey!" Yuuri shrieks. "I was working on that!"

Victor pretends to look offended. He places a hand over his heart and asks "what's more important than me?"

Yuuri rolls his eyes. He instinctively stand from his chair, trying to make himself look intimidating. He has to tilt his head up to meet Victor’s gaze but he holds his stance regardless.

However, Yuuri won’t be swayed; not this time. Even if he does look absolutely adorable.  

"My homework," Yuuri deadpans.

It’s a weak argument, if he is being honest, because Victor is truly more important than any homework he has, especially some dumb English assignment.

"Screw homework," Victor says with a wave of his hand. "You're on a date!"

Date?

Date.

Date!

Yuuri repeats the word in his mind over and over, trying to memorize the way Victor Nikiforov calls it a date. Even if there has been at least ten of these so called dates, he cannot seem to wrap his head around the idea of calling their - arrangements sounds too formal but it definitely more than just a get-together - meet ups a date.

Is he really on a date with Victor Nikiforov?

It still seems surreal.

"Well in my defence you're early!" Yuuri claims.

"Well, the border was empty for some reason. I guess people don't want to drive in the snow," Victor admits with a laugh. He nervously rubs the back of his neck as he gestures outside.

Yuuri rolls his eyes. Leave it to Victor to drive in a blizzard to visit Yuuri.  

"I wouldn't," Yuuri admits. He brushes off flakes of snow from Victor’s coat. "You're crazy for driving in this weather."

Victor shrugs off his trench coat and shakes off the excess snow before hanging it on the back of the chair. There is still a bit of snow in his hair and a bit on his eyelashes, but Yuuri finds it rather endearing and doesn’t say anything.

"Crazy for you," Victor admits.

He pulls Yuuri in for a kiss. It’s a chaste kiss - just a press of the lips - but it makes Yuuri’s heart flutter.

However, Yuuri pushes him away playfully. "Save it for your next best seller," he tuts.

Yuuri knows there isn't exactly a next best seller - or any book for that matter - in the works for Victor, but he can’t help but to hope. Even though they are in a relationship, doesn’t mean he isn’t still a fan of his work. Actually, it only makes his work more appealing, like his stories are some sort of connection he has to Victor whenever he is away. Sometimes he imagines Victor as the main characters, spouting ridiculous romance while he is off in Canada. He knows it is silly and childish, but he can’t help but to do so anyways.

"Maybe I will,” Victor says with a smirk as he pulls out Yuuri’s seat for him.

Yuuri rolls his eyes but thanks him and proceeds to sit back down in his chair.

Victor then goes to pull out the seat across from him. He sits down and crosses one leg over the other. "I'll title it 'How to Romance Your Partner Yuuri Katsuki in Ten Easy Steps'. I'm sure it'll be a hit."

Partner?

As in romantic partner?

Victor is always intentional with his words - he is an author after all - so he must actually mean partner. Although, to be fair, partner has plenty of different meanings; not just romantic. For all Yuuri knows, he could be calling him his partner in crime, not something romantic. There’s no reason for him to assume that he means it in a romantic way. Sure, they go on these so-called dates occasionally even kiss, but is that really enough to be considered his partner?

Is Victor his partner?

Yuuri, however, ignores those thoughts. He doesn’t need to address that now.

"What are the ten steps then?"

Usually, he would scoff at the mere notion of something so absolutely ridiculous.

Really, Victor? A book about how to romance someone as boring as him?

He knows his young adult audience is impressionable and would honestly read anything he publishes - because Yuuri would honestly read anything (even a phone book) if it were published by Victor Nikiforov - but even this is too extreme. Frankly, it’s amazing enough that he has an audience for a book about an ice skater so he shouldn’t push his luck.

However, Yuuri supposes he could humor him, even if it is a terrible idea. It’s the least he could do as his lover/partner/what-it-is-between-them.

Victor offers his a smile, one of those heart-shaped smiles that Yuuri knows is genuine. The one where his eyes sparkle and his cheeks create little dimples and Yuuri feels as though he somehow special.

"Easy! Number one is to give you and give you a kiss."

Victor leans in and presses his soft lips to Yuuri’s. 

Yuuri shouldn’t be surprised at this point. Victor kisses him often - more so than Yuuri’s other boyfriends - but they are often chaste and innocent, mostly on his cheek or his nose.

This, however, this is different. This kiss is passionate and needy and downright sexy. Victor’s hand is running through the back of his hair, grabbing desperately at his strands. His lips drag lower, leaving a mark as he sucks on his neck. And even though it is supposedly just a simple kiss it feels more intimate than anything they have ever done before.

Yuuri doesn't want it to end.

Victor pulls back, panting slightly with his lips parted slightly. It’s almost erotic, in a way.

"Just drink your coffee," Yuuri tuts, gesturing to the abandoned cup.

Victor, however, agrees. He lifts the cup to his lips and takes a large sip of his sugary drink.  "Aren't you curious about the other ten?" he mumbles into the cup.

Yuuri can feel his face warm up, his cheeks burning as he says something as smooth as that. "Mm not particularly,” he admits with a shrug.

Victor slams his paper cup on the wooden table. Yuuri is thankful that it doesn’t exactly make a loud noise, or at least loud enough to have others look in their direction.

"Yuuri," he whines, elongating the last part his name in the most annoying way possible. He sounds like a child when he says that - one who isn’t getting what he wants to be more exact - but it is makes his point quite well.

Yuuri only rolls his eyes.

If Yuuri is being honest, he doesn't know how he got this lucky. Who else can say that they are on a coffee date with their idol?

But he’s not just his idol: he’s much more than that.

He’s warm-hearted and stubborn and sometimes completely over-the-top; yet it makes Yuuri love him more.

"You hurt me! How will I go on after you've broken my heart so?" Victor asks. For emphasis, Victor places a hand over his heart, clutching his chest as if there is something physically wrong with him. "I'm never going to recover from that! I thought you liked me and then you betray me!"

Yuuri breaks his stoic expression and laughs through his nose.

"Fine," Yuuri huffs at his theatrics.

Yuuri knows he will give in to him at some point anyways; he can’t exactly resist his adorable pout and especially not Victor’s pout. Honestly, he doesn't think he has ever met somehow half as dramatic as him - and he's known three different actors and a plethora of figure skaters but not one of them is even close to Victor.

"What's number two?" Yuuri recites robotically.

Victor leans over the table, propping up his body with his elbows. His face is just mere centimeters away from Yuuri’s face when he says “the second is be a famous author, have a book signing, give him your number, and take him out for coffee and skating at every available hour, even if you have to drive in the snow."

Yuuri snorts.

"Because that's what teens want to read nowadays," Yuuri retorts.

Although, he supposes he has no idea what teens would want to read anymore. Who would’ve thought that teens would like a book about a depressed figure skater? Not Yuuri, that’s for sure.

Victor relaxes back into his chair.

"Well apparently they like ice skating so who's to say they won't like this," Victor asks.

"I think they just like you.”

Yuuri knows that isn't true; Victor is a wonderful author, but he supposes that his charming personality and alluring looks has some sort of influence. At least, it has an influence on Yuuri.  

Victor smirks. "And why is that?"

"Oh well they think your eyes sparkle, even if you don’t say anything,” he recites. It’s a quote from one of Victor’s earlier novels, one of the ones he had to use a Russian dictionary and Google Translate to read, but it is certainly worth it.

Victor places his head in his palms and offers Yuuri a small smile. "With that, you could be a world class author!”

"Yeah, but I definitely wouldn't write a book titled 'How to Romance Victor Nikiforov in Ten Easy Steps.'.”

"Well what would you write?"

"Hmm…” Yuuri says. He taps his finger to his own lips, a habit he has somehow adopted from Victor. “How about ‘Victor Nikiforov Is Actually A Giant Dork’?"

"Yuuri!" he whines again. "You're killing me!"

Yuuri giggles. Their banter feels nature and comforting, as if he is talking to a normal human being instead of a world famous author (because after all, Victor is just a normal human being).  

They continue to talk about nothing, about everything: the weather, their dogs, what they are planning on having for dinner tomorrow. For a famous actor and a figure skater, it is surprising how much they have in common.

It's domestic, in a way: having small talk while they finish their over priced drinks.

He doesn't want this moment to ever end.

Victor's foot often drifts over to Yuuri’s leg, their feet touching for just the briefest of moments. Yuuri feels the warm linger on his leg as he pulls away.

"Let me pay for your drink," Victor says, noticing Yuuri has finished his tea.

"Victor,” he warns. 

Victor pouts. 

"I never get to pay for my boyfriend," Victor complains.

Boyfriend?

Yuuri tries not to blush at that name, but it’s hard when he’s with Victor. Victor just makes him feel so special, as if he is commands the stars in the sky.

"Well you came all this way,” Yuuri reminds him. “It would be rude."

"It would be rude not to spoil my poor broke college boyfriend."

"You make yourself sound like a sugar daddy.”

“Well I could be,” Victor insists.

Yuuri chooses to ignore that comment. "And besides, I'm not poor.”

Victor raises his eyebrows, a playfully smile on his lips. "So then how do you get this money?"

"Why?” Yuuri teases. He slides his thick glasses up his nose with his hand. “Are you jealous that I had an actual sugar daddy?"

Victor purses his bottom lip forward looking much more like a child than a famous adult with more money than he knows what to do with. "Maybe."

Yuuri rolls his eyes. "Believe it or not, some people actually have real jobs,” he replies.

Yuuri just doesn't need to mention that job is being a world class figure skater.

"Fine, if I can't treat you today at least let me treat you on Friday," Victor requests.

Friday?

Friday the Twentieth of December?

As in this Friday?

"Oh, sorry Victor, I'll be away then," he says sadly. His voice cracks a bit but he tries to keep a straight face. It's the least he could do cover himself.

Yuuri knows he shouldn’t lie to Victor - his boyfriend (is that what they technically are?) deserves to know the truth - but he can’t muster up the courage to tell him that he will be at the Grand Prix Finals for Men’s Figure Skating instead of attending a date.

He has to do it when the time is right: when he can successfully perform his routine and land a quadruple flip. Until then, Victor will have to wait.

He’ll understand, right?

Besides, there are plenty of things he doesn’t know about Victor...

"Where are you going this time?" Victor asks. He begins to rub Yuuri's leg with his foot, teasing him as he sensually strokes against his calves.

"Montreal,” Yuuri recites plainly.  He hopes Victor is terrible with geography and doesn’t realize that Montreal is close enough to Toronto. Or even in Canada at all.

Victor seems to be ignorant of that information and simply taps a finger to his lips.

"Any reason?" he asks curiously.

Yuuri pales.

He can feel his heart racing, his breath hitching when Victor asks him. His heart is beating loud against his chest, so loud it is impossible that Victor can’t hear it. He has to hear it.  

Yuuri tries to focus on his breathing: inhale, hold for three seconds, exhale out of the mouth.

Repeat.

Repeat.

Repeat.

It’s not that hard.

Why is it so hard?

"Gotta go when the dollar is weak, eh?" Yuuri lies, trying to steady his breaths.

He knows it's a pathetic lie - who would ever go to a foreign country just because the currency is weak? - but he really doesn't have any other reason to go to Canada. He can’t exactly tell him it’s for a skating competition.

However, Victor seems to have believed his lie.

"What will I do without you?" Victor whines miserably.

Yuuri rolls his eyes at his dramatics. Leave an author gone Hollywood to be so dramatic about his partner leaving for a few days as to whine like a child.

And even though it is childish, Victor is making it so much harder to lie to him.

"Actually work on your movie," Yuuri suggests.

Victor sulks, slumping into his metal chair with his arms crossed. "Alright," he agrees lamely.

Yuuri, however, isn’t impressed by his lame agreement.  

"And don't even think about taking a day off and surprising me," Yuuri chastises.

Victor jolts up in his chair. "How did you know I'd do that?"

Yuuri rolls his eyes. For someone so adamant on surprising people with his work, he really is becoming predictable.

"Because I know you."

Yuuri inches his shaking hand on the table, closer to where Victor's hand is resting. He ghosts his hand over his knuckles, resting it near Victor’s.

"And I know how much you like surprising me,” Yuuri continues.

Victor smiles at that. He his soft fingers over his knuckles in a comforting motion.

"Well you'll come visit me, right? Toronto isn't that far from Montreal!"

Yuuri sighs.

He looks down at his hand. He savors how Victor’s hand is clasped on his, his finger absently rubbing his ring finger.

He knows he should tell Victor - he has been nothing but honest with Yuuri - but he can't find the courage to.

He has to wait until his performance is perfect and until then, he can't have Victor see his shortcomings. Victor would surely leave him if he saw such a terrible performance, especially if he can’t even land a quadruple flip.

"I'll see what I can do," Yuuri assures him.

He offers him a soft smile, hoping that is enough of an apology for now.

"Well if you have free time, you should come! You've gotta see my movie! It's coming along really well!" Victor praises.

"I bet,” Yuuri agrees. “You got Jean-Jacques Leroy as Yuri Plisetsky.”

"Yeah, and despite how absolutely annoying he is, he is a really amazing.”

Not that good , Yuuri thinks to himself because he surely wouldn’t say that to Victor.

Sure Jean-Jacques Leroy is a decent skater - he certainly has his own flare - but he is relies more on his jumps than any of his step sequences. It’s hard to even consider him a professional anymore; he crossed over to acting a long time ago - right after his senior debut, if Yuuri remembers correctly. Apparently, he now has a clothing line and does some small exhibition skates, but never competes professionally.

Maybe he is insecure (maybe a bit jealous), but Yuuri certainly doesn't qualify him as a so called amazing skater.

"Well can he do a quadruple flip?" Yuuri asks (partially because he curious but partially because he is bitter).

Victor offers him a charming smile; the same charming smile that Yuuri is all too familiar with. The charming smile that is printed on the inside flap of his latest book, and that is in all of his social media selfies, and that stares back at him on his own lock screen.

It makes Yuuri’s heart flutter.

"Well he isn't the world champion now is he?"

Yuuri freezes. He feels his heart drop into his chest, as if a ton of bricks had fallen on him.

Victor knows.

He must know; no one would make a comment like that unless they know.

Yuuri wonders how he found out. Did someone tell him? Did he find out on his own?

Did he know the entire time?

However, Yuuri tries to hide any sort of discomfort. Instead, he straightens in his chair and flashes him a cheeky smile.

He won't let Victor win this time. After all - as World Champion - he hates losing.

"Well, we'll have to see won't we?"

Yuuri exhales.

He sits down after his warm up, trying to remain calm before his free skate. He is currently in first after the short program, but that can all change - he knows that more than anyone. Yuuri could always mess up spectacularly, fall on his quadruple flip and ruin the entire program.

Yuuri tries not to think about that. Instead, his eyes watch as the next skater takes the ice. He's an up and coming American skater named Leo De La Iglesia. He is rather good, even with a low technical score, but Yuuri tries to not focus on other skaters.

Besides, he has other (far more) important things to worry about.

"Yuuri? Are you ready?" Phichit asks.

"Yeah, I guess," Yuuri mumbles halfheartedly. His eyes slide down to his phone. The offending object is resting in his palm, screen facing Yuuri. His usual lock screen lights up when he clicks the home screen. It's a photo of him and Victor from a few weeks ago: Victor is smiling, holding up a peace sign, while he holds Yuuri close to him.

Phichit sighs and sits down next to Yuuri.

"What's wrong? Don't worry, you're definitely going to get first!" he assures him with a thumbs up. “Besides, your only real competition is me and I flubbed my short program so there's like no way you can't get first!”

"It's not that," Yuuri admits sadly. He grabs the lanyard from around his neck as a distraction from his thoughts. He looks over at the printed card on the front, reading over the text until it is permanently ingrained into his mind.

Yuuri Katsuki. Japan. Mens Singles.

Yuuri Katsuki. Japan. Mens Singles.

Yuuri Katsuki. Japan. Mens Singles.

It does little to distract his wandering mind.

"What's wrong?” Phichit asks, breaking him from his thoughts. “You're usually more excited to skate your free program."

"Do you think I should've told him?" Yuuri asks, his voice small.

He knows what Phichit is going to tell him (because, honestly, it is the same thing he has been telling him). Yes, he should have told him. Yes, he should stop being so selfish. Yes, he should call him right now and tell him to turn on a television and watch.

"Yuuri," Phichit begins with a sigh. "I can't tell you what you should or shouldn't do."

"But you would've," Yuuri points out.

Because that's what a good boyfriend - are they even officially boyfriends - would do. Good boyfriends wouldn't keep secrets. Good boyfriends don’t lie about their job. Good boyfriends aren’t like Yuuri.

"Does it matter what I would've done?"

Yuuri sighs. Leave it to Phichit to say something simultaneously wise and utterly cliche all at once.

"Should I text him?" Yuuri asks nervously.

He stares at his phone, his finger hovering over the image of Victor. He could always tell him now: call him and tell him to the truth. However, some sort of illogical part of his brain stops him from clicking his image. He can’t have Victor see him yet, not when he still can’t land a quadruple flip.

"He technically made the program; he deserves to see it."

Phichit only shrugs. "Do what you feel."

Yuuri groans. "Why can't you just tell me what to do?" he moans miserably.

"Okay, tell him!" Phichit exclaims. He proceeds to yank the phone out of Yuuri's hands and presumably call Victor Nikiforov.

"Phichit!" Yuuri complains.

Yuuri tries to reach over Phichit lap for his phone, but Phichit is far too sneaky to let him take it from him. Instead, Yuuri pouts and supposes there isn’t anything left to do but to wait to see what he has done.

Phichit eventually shoves his phone back in his hands. He must have sent some sort of incriminating text to Victor about how he should turn on the television and watch him or something like that. However, he looks down at the screen to see that he has already dialed Victor’s number.

Yuuri scrambles to cradle between his shoulder and ear.

"Hello?" Victor asks after the second dial tone.

"Hey Victor," Yuuri says, trying to sound casual despite the crack in his voice.

Phichit gives him a thumbs up of encouragement. Yuuri only glares at him.

"Hi Yuuri! What's up?"

Or at least, that is what he thinks Victor is saying. (For all he knows, he could be saying something about maple syrup. It's unlikely but possible).

There is a lot of noise - screaming and cheering, Yuuri recognizes - in the background, making it rather difficult to hear.

"It sounds like you're busy," Yuuri points out.

He holds the phone closer to his ear as if that will help him hear his boyfriend’s (are they boyfriends officially?) words better. However, it does little to help.

"Oh no, that's just some background noise from the studio. You know how these fans are," he says with a nervous laugh.

Yuuri rolls his eyes.

He knows how fans are - he has plenty of his own rabid fans to know exactly how wild they can be. He especially knows how Victor’s fans are, being one of them, after all.

They are different from his fans of course. His fans mostly consist of women who are interested in the artistry of the sport. Victor’s fans, on the other hand, are their own breed of super fans. They are mostly rowdy teenagers who find Victor himself to be the most attractive thing about his books - which they aren't wrong about. They are rather intense, so he can’t really be upset with the amount of noise they are causing.

"But don't worry, I'm always available to talk to-,” Victor assures him. There is some rustling in the background and the rest of his words are cut off.

"Are you sure? It seems rather loud.”

Yuuri silently - and bitterly - wonders what he is doing right now.

He imagines that he is probably signing autographs, and by the sound of the crowd, they are absolutely loving every second of his appearance. His own possessive mind doesn't want to think about Victor with his fans. Call him selfish, but he wants to keep Victor for himself, not share him with a thousand other fans at an autograph signing. His mind swirls with the possibilities: Victor could get trampled or kidnapped or killed! Or, worse, meet a fan that is like himself.

And who is to say that he won't meet a fan like Yuuri? One who is smarter and cooler and simply better?

Who says he still wants to be with Yuuri?

It's a surprise that he even picked up his cellphone at all. After all, Victor is much too busy with everything else in his star studded world to even think about Yuuri.

"Well you'll have to come to the studio and see for yourself, won't you?" Victor asks desperately, almost as if he is begging Yuuri.

Yuuri sighs and looks at the time. He still has three more minutes until he has to take to the ice. Three more minutes to tell Victor.

"Maybe some other time," Yuuri assures him.  

He knows he shouldn't delay this any longer. He should tell him; he has every right to know about Yuuri’s life. Maybe during the off season, Yuuri tells himself. By then he will have the routine perfected and won’t have the pressure of competitions. Yes, he will definitely tell him then.

He nervously tugs on the edges of his jacket.

"Next time, then. You can hang out with me, see all the behind the scenes nonsense. Maybe I can get you a cameo appearance. It sounds better than boring old Montreal, right?"

"Mhmmm," Yuuri agrees.

He turns to Phichit. "Tell him," he mouths.

"I..." Yuuri begins nervously.

"Yes?"

Yuuri panics.

The words feel stuck in his throat.

How does he possibly tell world famous author Victor Nikiforov - and boyfriend of almost two whole months - that he is a world class ice skater about to perform a routine he wrote for a fictional character?

"I love you," he blurts.

Phichit groans.

Yuuri internally winces.

He wants to tell Victor the truth. It isn't too much to turn on a television and watch, is it?

There is a slightly pause on the other side of the line. He can hear some sort of announcer say something followed by more cheering. It’s much louder now and Yuuri wonders what Victor must have done to warrant such a loud greeting.

"I love you too,” Victor says.

"Yuuri! The announcer just called you!” his coach announces.

Yuuri looks down at his phone.

Has three minutes already passed?

"I have to go,” Yuuri says hastily.

"Ah, alright. We'll talk later?"

"Yeah,” Yuuri agrees.

Maybe then he’ll have enough courage to tell him.

“Good luck, Yuuri."

“Wait-what?”

The line goes dead.

Yuuri sighs and shuts off his phone. So much for telling Victor...

He looks at Phichit who just glares at him, his disappointment obvious in his expression.

“Don't give me that look! I'll tell him when I land the quadruple flip at Worlds,” Yuuri lectures.

Phichit sighs but doesn’t say anything.

Yuuri stands and prepares to take to the ice. He takes off his glasses and blade guards, handing them off to Phichit who accepts them begrudgingly. He proceeds to strips off his Team Japan jacket revealing his full costume.

It’s a rather overstated, especially compared to his usual costumes. While his other ones are usually rather plain for an ice skater, this one is completely adorned with little flourishes. His outfit is a full body navy suit, custom tailed to his body. The outfit is adorned in little gems that glisten under the arena’s fluorescent lighting. The jacket is cinched at the waist, emphasizing his rather feminine curves. On the back is a intricate fleur de lis design completely filled in with multicolored sequins. He normally wouldn’t wear something so bold, but he wants to match Victor’s vision as closely as possible.

Phichit pats him on the back. “Just go out there, land your quad flip, and make history.”

Yuuri offers him a small smile before walking towards the rink. He hears his name called following by a loud roar of applause.

Yuuri inhales through his nose before skating out to the middle of the rink, waving at his cheering fans. He takes to the center of the rink, forming his starting pose.

How fitting that is called Yuri On Ice (even if it spelled without the extra U).

The flowing notes of the piano fill the rink, creating a repetitive rhythm. There are no words and it is fitting seeing as no words could possibly describe the feeling of love, not even if they were written by Victor Nikiforov himself.

He raises his hands, cupping his face before spreading them out to the audience. He turns and raises his head towards the ceiling, spreading them out. The music builds as loops around the rink and performs the first combination jump. Quadruple toe loop, double toe loop. He lands is cleanly before beginning his first step sequence.

The music begins to change, adding a bit of percussion as he turns three times in preparation for his jump. He loops around the outside edge of the rink, facing forward as he lands his triple axel.

The music slows to a lone piano and he spreads his arms out, transitioning to his step sequence.

He finds his mind wandering to Victor as he begins his ina bauer. He wonders what he was thinking about when he wrote this. He wonders what he will say when he sees this.

The music builds as the second half of his routine begins. Yuuri launches himself for his next jump, landing his triple flip cleanly. As he transitions into his twizzles, he thinks about Victor. He wants Victor to see this, wants him to see the love he has put into crafting this performance.

He’s the only one who can prove that.

The music crescendos as he builds up as much speed as possible. Yuuri picks his toe pick into the ice before launching himself into his quadruple flip. He spins four times in the air before landing cleanly on the edge of his blade.

When he closes his eyes, he swears he can see Victor.

Yuuri finishes with a sit spin as the music fades out. He transitions out of the spin, into his final pose: one hand crossed over his heart and the other outstretched towards the crowd.

He pretends that he is reaching out to Victor.

He pants, his chest rising and falling before he breaks from his final pose and turns to address the audience. The crowd cheers louder as he spreads his arms out. His eyes scan the audience as he notices someone standing at the exit of the rink.

It can’t be.

It must be his imagination.

"Victor?" Yuuri asks.

There is no mistake. The platinum hair, the oversized trench coat, the heart shaped smile: it has to be Victor.

Victor nods, standing at the edge of the rink with his arms spread wide.

Yuuri propels himself towards the exit, launching him towards Victor.

“Victor? I did great, right?”

In that moment, time stops. Everything around them feels quiet, as if they don’t matter anymore. And honestly, it doesn’t matter.

Victor is suddenly wrapping his arms around him, embracing him around the neck. His soft lips press against his his. It is so intimate and familiar, their lips parting slowly as he deepens the kiss.

Yuuri doesn’t even realize that he is falling until he feels the cold embrace  of the ice beneath him. Victor land clumsily on top of him, hands carding through his hair as he cradles Yuuri’s head.

Victor pulls his lips away, for a breath of air.

"Surprise?" Victor finally says with a crooked smile.

Yuuri blinks twice before laughing. "What are you doing?" he asks.

Victor tucks a piece of Yuuri’s hair behind his ear. "I'm doing the only thing that can surprise you more than you've surprised me."

The corners of Yuuri's lips turn upwards

Leave it to Victor to know exactly what to say at a moment like this. He supposes he is a world class author for a reason, after all.

"How long have you known?" Yuuri asks.

Because that is obviously the most important question right now...

Victor chuckles.

"Not that long. I was sort of curious after those girls asked for autographs."

Yuuri glares at him. That happened at least two weeks ago.

"And you didn't think to tell me?"

Victor laugh nervously. "Well I wanted to surprise you. I'm surprised your friend didn't give it away. He's rather terrible at keeping secrets."

"Phichit's in on it too?" Yuuri gawks, his mouth hanging open.

"Yeah," Victor admits, rubbing the hairs on the back of his neck with his hand.

Victor looks over his shoulder to the crowd.

"I think we should get up and see your score,” Victor points out.

Yuuri chuckles and taps him on the nose. "It doesn't matter. I already have something better than a gold medal."

Victor smiles and presses his forehead against Yuuri’s. “Keep saying things like that and I'd swear we’re in one of my romance novels.”

“If we are, then I’d never want to leave.”

He supposes nothing in life is like one of those romance novels. The ones with the naked guy on the cover and the overly descriptive sex scenes; but he supposes his is as close as it gets.

The End.