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Yuuri Katsuki is not a public person. He doesn’t use social media unless forced. He’s awkward. He stumbles over his words around people, and he always looks surprised in photos.
These facts make his publicist’s - well, Viktor’s, but the woman agreed to take him on - job very difficult.
He had sat through hours of meetings that talked about why Pyeongchang was so big, the importance of image as they went into and then through an Olympic season, and why image was just as relevant as skill if they wanted to be comfortable when they retired from skating. (That was a reality that Yuuri still stubbornly refused to face, even though Viktor was likely retiring after this year. In his mind, time would stop before then.)
All of these things, while incredibly annoying, were also important. He understood that. What he didn’t understand was how this had landed him on a game-style show segment for ESPN with several other skaters, where they were challenged to name the music used in someone’s figure skating program, as well as the skater, in as little time as possible.
Phichit, Michele, Mila, Leo, Otabek, and himself were gathered in a lounge area with a screen somewhere near the cameraman - the audience wouldn’t see that, but the host reassured them that they would superimpose the footage, as well as the answer, into the corner of the picture. They had named all of their programs earlier that day individually, and this was more to review and “have fun”, as the producers put it. It would be interspersed with clips of the skater’s guesses.
As if that wasn’t nerve wracking enough, they were going to be timed. Whoever had the least amount of time on their clock won. They would be awarded…. Something, Yuuri wasn’t sure, at the end of the show.
The first one had been easy enough. Wakaba Higuchi’s “Skyfall” Free Skate at the 2018 World Championships. Yuuri had been there to see his fellow JSF skater, and had been floored by the skills that she had displayed on the ice. He may have been a little biased toward the program listing, given that he had trained with Mila and was friends with Sara, but Higuchi’s program had blown him out of the water, and he had spent several hours on YouTube after that studying the program. All the screen had shown was a close up shot of her costume, from the neck down, as she had skated, and it took him 10 seconds to recognize and name it.
The second one didn’t even take him that long. Tessa Virtue and Scott Moir “Moulin Rouge” Free Dance at the 2018 Skate America was easily his favorite pairs skating routine… probably ever. 7 seconds.
Adam Rippon, US National Championships. 14 seconds.
Christophe’s free skate from 2016. Yuuri had that particular program branded into his eyeballs, and not for the best reasons. 8 seconds.
Michelle Kwan, 1998. 12 seconds.
Yura’s 2017 short program. 3 seconds.
Alexei Yagudin, 2002 Winter Olympics. 8 seconds.
JJ’s free skate from 2016… unfortunately.
And then…
No matter what program they put up for Viktor, Yuuri didn’t even have to hear the music. All he needed was the costume, and he named the Lilac Fairy, Stammi Vicino. Bolero. Enigma. Sex Bomb. The minute the costume showed up on the screen, the words were out of Yuuri’s mouth as the music started playing. And of course, of course , the host had a special montage of Yuuri knowing every single Viktor program the minute he saw it, which had Mila in tears from laughing, and Phichit elbowing a bruise into Yuuri’s ribs.
“So, Yuuri,” the host asked between bouts of laughter, “You beat everyone by several seconds when recognizing not only Viktor, but primarily the male skaters and the female skater from Japan. How in the world did you do it?”
Before Yuuri could answer, Mila jumped in.
“Our Yuuri is a nervous little bean,” she said as she reached over to pat Yuuri’s knee. “You wouldn’t believe the number of times Yura or Viktor has texted me saying that Yuuri was ignoring them in favor of watching skating videos! It’s adorable!”
Yuuri cleared his throat. “Um, it’s pretty well known by now that I have anxiety? And skating is really calming for me, so I watch a lot of videos when I can’t skate. Besides, it’s like studying, in a way. You always want to know what others are doing, because there’s a bar to reach. You can’t skate in a vacuum, so you have to know what’s going on around you?”
He didn’t mean for that last part to sound like a question, but luckily Phichit saved him from answering by talking about how quickly he recognized JJ’s program, and how none of them were going to forget that particular year.
As they were leaving the building to head back to the Olympic village, Phichit nudged Yuuri’s shoulder. “Hey, dude, that was a good answer and all, but I know you. You didn’t just study all of those programs, and there’s no way in hell that you knew all of those were Viktor. Some of those costumes were so generic!”
Yuuri mumbled, hoping Phichit would drop the subject and move on.
“I’m sorry, what was that?” Phichit wasn’t going to drop the subject and move on.
Yuuri mumbled again.
Stopping in the middle of the sidewalk, Phichit stood in front of him and crossed his arms. “Yuuri Katsuki, my friend, best roommate ever, platonic love of my life, adoptive hamster father, and my nervous son, what did you just say?”
“It was because of his ass,” Yuuri eventually said with a sigh. “He has an incredibly distinct… ass.”
Phichit, to his credit, only laughed uncontrollably for about a minute, instead of the full ten that Yuuri might have gotten in response if they had been in their apartment in Detroit.
“Oh my GOD, this is too good,” Phichit giggled. “Of course you would know Viktor’s programs because of how his ass looks in a costume. Yuuri , you’re so thirsty! And at least we know now that you’re an ass man.”
Yuuri, for his part, just tried to hide his face in the collar of his jacket.
“This is good. This is too good. I can’t even believe this. Yuuri, are you trying to make yourself internet famous again? Because you broke the internet once, and this is my year to do that you know. But whatever. I’m tweeting this, I have to tweet this.”
In all the years that he had known, and lived with, Phichit, Yuuri had never successfully taken a phone away from his friend. He had tried. Celestino had tried. Muramoto-sensei had tried. Alex, Sam, Eric, and Andrea had all tried. All had failed.
Today, Yuuri failed at that again.
The tweet went viral before they even made it back to the Village. That wasn’t entirely Phichit’s fault though, the Thai man tried to tell him. Sure, the tweet had garnered attention. But if Yuuri wanted to know who the real culprit was, he needed to ask his fiance.
His fiance, who had replied to the tweet. Because he had no shame and no self-control, and as much as Yuuri loved him, he really needed to have Twitter taken away from him sometimes.
Phichit cackled as he read the original tweet out loud. “Get this - @katsukiyuuri recognized his man’s programs because of one very distinct ASSet. 3 guesses as to what that was.”
“I hate you.”
“No you don’t. Now shut up. Of course the internet lost their shit. It’s you - you never do anything scandalous unless Viktor is involved. Need I remind you of the Cup of China? The Rostelecom tie pull?”
“I really hate you.”
“No, you really love me. And you love Viktor. Do you wanna know what he replied?”
“No.”
“Too bad. @v-nikiforov replied: bet I could do the same with him. I mean, have you SEEN - all caps, Yuuri - his thighs? I could pick those out of a crowd at thirty paces.”
Yuuri was pretty sure he was dying inside, and wouldn’t live to see his wedding day, while the internet continued to explode. Why was this his life? Oh right. Because the love of his life showed up incredibly naked and offered to coach him. And they kissed on live television. Why would he expect things to actually be calm , even years later? How silly of him.