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we'll be carrying each other

Summary:

Yuzuru and Sergei were too different to put them in the same category. Sergei was always more like a friend than a rival, someone he could went out for drinks with and talk about everything. And Yuzuru... Yuzuru was someone who was a part of his life, but who couldn't be compartmentalised. He was a constant presence, a motivation, a big unknown, full of contradictions. Javi knew how his fingers felt when he helped him get up from the ice, but he didn't know what kind of music he listened to. And Yuzuru would wrap his arms around Javi so tight it almost hurt, but he wouldn't go out for a dinner with him.

(Aka a story about friendship, hurt, starting over and not giving up.)

Notes:

I've school break till September, deal with me writing all the time!
Did I mention that Sergei and Javi's friendship is the purest? Add to that some Javi/Yuzu friendship and we've this fic.
We've two timelines in here, season 2014-2015 and 2010-2011, hope it all makes sense while reading (different timelines are always marked with a line).
Title from 'Brother' by Kodaline.
This is fiction, of course! Also, English is not my mother tongue (of course hah).
This is for Claire again, because her amazing comment on this story inspired me to write this <3

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

 

Javi had a soft spot for Rostelecom Cup. Maybe it was about people, the crowd always loud and welcoming. Maybe it was because it was Europe, close enough to home so his parents would always come. Or maybe it was because he had learned to like Moscow, despite everything. His time there hadn't been the easiest, but it had taught him so much.

There were a lot of reasons to like Moscow.

Winning in there also felt kind of special, but Javi couldn't quite explain why, again. And now he didn't have time to think about it, because he was already late to the press conference and he was rushing through the corridors. It wasn't his fault that time, okay? When he entered the room Michal was in the middle of his statement, so Javi sneaked behind his back quickly. And there was also Sergei, grinning at him widely and pulling him into a hug. Javi just had to smile at that, the gesture so familiar by now.

After the conference he stayed to give an interview to one of the journalists; he managed to smile while answering the question about the olympics and then talked about his new programs and excitement that the Grand Prix Final would be held in Barcelona.

„And how do you feel about competing in Moscow?” the journalist asked and Javi smiled softly.

„It's always nice. I've a lot of friends here.”

 


 

Javi knew that his new roommate would come soon, but he couldn't bring himself to do anything and neaten the room. The place was pretty messy, he had to admit, but with their nomadic lifestyle Javi didn't see the point in packing and unpacking every few weeks. It was just making him sad.

He knew that the new guy was Russian, but no one thought about sharing more information with him; it was another thing he had to get used to. He sighed and got up with intention to make the place look at least a bit more appealing, when suddenly there was a polite knock to the door and Javi almost got a heartattack.

„Hello.” the guy said, closing the door behind him „I'm Sergei, new teammmate.” he smiled broadly and Javi realized that he knew who he was. Sergei Voronov, two-time Russian champion. Javi vaguely remembered one competition- worlds in 2008?- when after bad short he had redeemed himself in the free. He was older and Javi suddenly felt ridiculously nervous.

„Hi! I'm Javier, but call me Javi. Umm, sorry for the mess, I didn't-” he chuckled nervously, but Sergei waved his hand.

„Ehh, no worry.” he dumped his bag on his bed „Still better than my room, mother always yell.” he chuckled and then smiled sheepishly „Sorry, English is very bad.”

„Oh no, it's great. You don't want to hear my Russian.”

Javi's English was decent, but Russian was like black magic. He had picked up a few words and phrases, but he knew that they had to sound horribly with his Spanish accent.

„You know what make languages easy?” Sergei asked with raised eyebrows and Javi looked at him with confusion.

„Like, lessons?”

„Vodka.” he grinned and Javi gaped „What time you have training tomorrow?”

„Uhh, at ten I think?”

„Same! You come with me now?”

Javi blinked, surprised. He had met Sergei fifteen minutes before and he was already more friendly than most people he had encountered. But the guy was smiling at him genuinely and suddenly Javi felt himself smiling back.

„Sure.”

 

It wasn't like the atmosphere in Morozov's group was hostile. But it was kind of peculiar. Skaters came and then disappeared, and Javi always stayed, and it was hard to make friends with anybody. The other reason was the coach's... methods. Javi knew it wasn't Florent's fault that he got more attention and Javi himself was left stranded. It was how it was, and Javi had to grit his teeth and try his best.

The thing was, Javi had never got used to it. To constant moving around, to being left out, to not having anyone close to talk to. Sure, he was friendly enough with Florent and Miki, but would he call them real friends? Javi felt lonely, so lonely that it almost physically hurt to sit in his room by himself and staring at the walls.

But then Sergei appeared and it suddenly was a bit easier.

They didn't become the best friends immediately. But Sergei smiled and joked, and would give Javi tips about his triple axel. He sometimes laughed bashfully when he couldn't explain something in English, so he would gesticulate like a madman, throwing at Javi Russian sentences and random words that he was convinced were English.

„You never see Neskuchny?” Sergei asked with the look of terror on his face and Javi shook his head „Oh, very, very wrong. We go on weekend.”

That what it looked like with Sergei; he would drag Javi out of their room to show him his beloved city, explaining everything in that specific language of his, and it felt like a piece of normality.

 


 

Barcelona welcomed him with warm air and loud chatter in Spanish; it felt familiar, it felt like home. But the attention he was getting now- it was new and it was nice, but also Javi could feel pressure growing steadily and squeezing his chest.

„It's gonna be okay, Javi.” Brian put a hand on his shoulder, noticing his nervousness „I know it's a new kind of pressure for you, but I'm sure you'll be fine.”

„Yeah, I know.” Javi nodded and gave him a small smile. He spotted Yuzuru on the other side of the corridor and he waved at him, getting a brief nod in response.

„Okay, go and change, and I'll see you on the ice in a few.” Brian instructed him and walked away.

The other guys were already in the locker room and Javi was happy to see his favourite Russians there.

„Privet.” he said cheerfully and Maxim rolled his eyes.

„Your Russian hurts my ears.” he said but then smiled widely and gave him a hug „It's great to see you, Javi.”

„You too. Hi, Sergei, congrats on NHK.” he said and Sergei beamed.

„Thank you! Excited to skate in final.”

„Planning to beat me?”

„Always.”

 

The practice went well. Javi's quad sal was a bit wobbly, but triple axel felt nice and steady.

„Nice axel.” Sergei joined him in his cooling down lap around the rink.

„I had great example.” Javi elbowed him and Sergei laughed.

„He has great jump too.” Sergei nodded in Yuzuru's direction „How are things between?”

„It's cool.” Javi shrugged his shoulders; he never knew what to answer when the press was asking him that, but with Sergei he could be honest „We don't really talk much and he sometimes has his little tantrums, but he's a nice guy. Good training mate.”

„Oh no, he take my place?” Sergei pouted, clutching his chest, and Javi threw an arm around his shoulders.

„No one can replace you in my heart!” he exclaimed dramatically and they both doubled over with laughter.

It was true, what Javi had said. Yuzuru and Sergei were too different to put them in the same category. Sergei was always more like a friend than a rival, someone he could went out for drinks with and talk about everything. And Yuzuru... Yuzuru was someone who was a part of his life, but who couldn't be compartmentalised. He was a constant presence, a motivation, a big unknown, full of contradictions. Javi knew how his fingers felt when he helped him get up from the ice, but he didn't know what kind of music he listened too. And Yuzuru would wrap his arms around Javi so tight it almost hurt, but he wouldn't go out for dinner with him.

It was complicated. Javi usually liked easy things, but for him he could make an exception.

 


 

There was one thing about Sergei that always made Javi wonder- no matter what was happening, he smiled. He smiled when he fell, he smiled during morning practice and on a plane to Hackensack. And now he was smiling too, limping around the room and collecting his things, packing them into that old, ugly bag.

„Does it hurt a lot?” Javi asked, because the silence between them was unsual and it felt heavy and sad.

„I'm used to.” Sergei shrugged shlightly, packing the last shirt and zipped up his bag. He turned to Javi and sat on his bed carefully.

„Is it serious? What doctors say?”

„They always say same thing.” Sergei rolled his eyes „End of career, can't skate.” he grinned widely „Hear it so many times.”

If Javi had half as many injuries and surgeries as Sergei, he would probably retire. But he had a weird inling that his friend will be skating longer than him.

„I hope it'll be okay.” he said honestly and Sergei nodded.

„It will.” his smiled faltered a little, his gaze searching Javi's face „You will be okay?”

„Yeah.” Javi nodded and it almost sounded convincing.

„You come to dinner one day.” Sergei said as he stood up and grabbed his bag „Mom will say you are skinny.”

„Okay.” Javi chuckled „Take care of that leg and come back.”

„I'll see you soon, Javi.”

 

Sergei came back to training, but not to living with the group. Javi didn't blame him or anything. They still saw each other almost every day and he had a new roommate anyway.

In the beggining Maxim didn't speak any English and he just stared weirdly when Javi was trying to communicate with him in Russian. But the boy started picking up quickly and now he was babbling excitedly about his new programs, his English adorably twisted.

Javi listened and nodded and smiled, and wished he could be fourteen again.

 


 

The final was a roallercoaster and it felt like he could breathe again when he stood on the podium, Yuzuru and Sergei next to him. There was a tiny bit of regret and him, a wish to do more, but mostly he was okay with all he had. It was already more he had ever dreamed of.

 

Javi always liked gala exhibitions, but that one felt special. He couldn't wait to perform for his crod without worrying about scores and judges.

„Why did you prepare?” he asked Sergei while waiting in a backstage „Maybe retake of your free? It's a crowd stealer.”

„You know, I don't like it.” Sergei shrugged „I can't understand it good.”

„You can't always skate to tango.” Javi joked and Sergei pretended to be offended „So what it's gonna be?”

„Secret.” Sergei grinned and Javi sticked his tongue at him.

A moment later Yuzuru appeared, his flashing costume a cotrast to Javi and Sergei's plain shirts. Javi had learned a long time before not to question his fashion choices, so he started a casual conversation about how nice the weather was.

„Good luck.” he told Sergei when his turn came and then moved closer to the entrance so he could peek from time to time.

Yesterday when I was young
The taste of life was sweet as rain upon my tongue

Javi blinked, his throat suddenly tight.

The thousand dreams I dreamed, the splendid things I planned
I always built, alas, on weak and shifting sand

He did't know why, but the song hit him like a brick. He wondered why Sergei had chosen that one, but the it dawned on him as the song continued, and suddenly it was also about him, maybe about everyone.

Yesterday, when I was young
So many drinking songs were waiting to be sung
So many wayward pleasures lay in store for me
And so much pain my dazzled eyes refused to see

It was about Sergei, who was twenty- seven, who had never made it to the olympics and who was smiling through the pain and turning it into kindness.

It was about Javi, who had used to be so scared and lonely he couldn't breathe, and who needed other people believing in him before he could believe in himself.

There are so many songs in me that won't be sung
I feel the bitter taste of tears upon my tongue
The time has come for me to pay for yesterday
When I was young

„Javi, you okay?”

„Yeah.” he cleared his throat „Just... the song makes me emotional.”

„But you are young.” Yuzuru said with confusion and Javi had to chuckle at that. He decided not to elaborate, because it would take so much time and explanation, and they hadn't talked about things like that before, so it would be weird to start now.

Later than evening he skated his heart out, feeling both light and nostalgic, and finally at peace.

 


 

Thigs were getting more and more unbearable as the time passed, but Japan was the last straw.

He was woken up by Florent, who announced that Morozov wanted to meet them all in his room. Javier went there still half asleep, not registering what was happening around him, until he saw Miki's pale face and he sobered up in a second.

„As some of you know, there was an earthquake in Tohoku.” Morozov said and Javi's heart stopped, his throat going dry „I just want to assure you that we're totally safe here and there's need to panic. I've already talked with a few federations, but they might want to contact you too.”

„Are we leaving?” Florent asked and coach winced.

„I don't think there's a need for that-”

Javi didn't hear him anymore. His heart was beating so hard it felt like it was gonna leave bruises, his throat so tight it was hard to breathe, and he was on the edge, and-”

„It's okay.” Sergei muttered quietly, putting a hand on his back„You're fine.”

He was the only one who knew about Javi's anxiety problems, since one day he had come back to their room and found Javi shaking like a leaf. He was understanding and compassionate, and he hadn't told anyone. It was relieving to have someone who knew, someone who would put a reassuring hand on his shoulder, the touch distracting him from the painful squeeze of his heart.

But he wasn't sure if it would be enough that time.

„Javi, you okay? You look pale.” Miki noticed with worry and Javi tried his best to answer, but Sergei was quicker.

„I take him outside.” he said and he dragged Javi out of there, not waiting for anyone's approval. He took him on his balcony, waiting for his breathing to stabilize and then handing him a glass of water. Javier inhaled deeply, bliking at the sun in front of him, his eyelashes moist.

„I wanna go home.” he said, and his voice was small and broken „I wanna go home, Sergei.”

He was nineteen and scared, a world away from home, and the only person who cared for him at this place was looking at him with a worried frown. Sergei sat down next to Javi, his eyes wise.

„Why you train here?” he asked quietly and Javi opened his mouth to say that he still felt like he had a debt to pay, no matter how bad and uncomfortable he was feeling. But Sergei shook his head, as if he could read his mind „You don't owe him anything.”

And in that moment, for the first time, Javi thought that he really, truly didn't.

 


 

 

Javi narowed his eyes, trying to make sense out of the numbers. There was a big white two next to his name, and it was enough. But then a big one appeared and the world exploded. He hugged Brian, feeling dizzy and overwhelmed and happy.

He won. He was the world champion.

Yuzuru came to hug him before Javi could look at him, but he was bad at hiding emotions and they both knew it. That was what they did, they helped each other, they cared for each other. One would always win, one would always lose.

„You were great.” he muttered into Yuzuru's hair and the boy trembled.

„I'm not crying.” he said, taking a small step back and hiding his face in his hands „I'm not crying.”

But he was, so Javi pulled him closer and let him grieve and laugh, sad and happy at the same time.

Some people were surprised how they managed to go along so well, but Javi didn't see anything weird in that. He knew how to communicate with Yuzuru because he had been there before, when he left Spain for the longstanding wandering around the world. Javi didn't have trouble with them training together, because he needed calm and laughter and light, and he would give up other things just to get that.

And it was easy to not have trouble with Yuzuru when he was wrapped in Javi's arms, trustful and small, and a little bit broken. Just like him.

 

He bumped into Sergei in a backstage after the medal ceremony.

„Hey, you okay?” he asked with worry when he saw his friend's slow step.

„Hurt knee.” Sergei explained and there was a smile on his lips, as if he was laughing at the fate's joke „Before competition.”

„I'm sorry.”

„It's okay.” Sergei said, as always, as if it was normal that he was hurt „Beat you next season.” Javi gaped, pretending to be terrified, and Sergei laughed „Congratulation, Javi.”

He would like to stay and talk more, but he had to get to the press conference, so he smiled apologetically and promised to talk to him later.

„You're late.” Yuzuru said when he finally reached the press room, his eyes stern.

„Come on, we still have, like, four minutes left.” Javi said and Yuzuru rolled his eyes, but Javi could see shadow in his eyes „Come here, you little grumpy.”

Yuzuru pouted at that term, but didn't protest when Javi pulled him into a hug, his hand wrapping around Javi's shoulders.

Javi had read somewhere that touch had healing properties. It had helped him before, so maybe he could help someone else now.

It never hurt to try.

 

Notes:

Sergei's exhibition at GPF 2014 (I love it a lot okay)
Like it? Hate it? Let me know in the comments!
Thank you for reading!

If anyone wants to talk or wants to share some fic indeas- I put my email adress on my profile :D