Work Text:
Wow...
Almost everything Yuuri did on the ice was amazing in Kenjirou's eyes, but his surprise duet performance of "Stammi Vicino" with Viktor by far surpassed anything else he had done in his skating career so far. Sniffling, he used the sleeve of his sweatshirt to wipe away the tears streaming down his face.
One day, he hoped he would find a love like Yuuri and Viktor so obviously shared...
Fighting back a yawn as the two basked in the standing ovation they received, Kenjirou glanced down at the clock at the bottom of his computer screen and frowned. It was already well after eleven. He really needed to get to bed. He had an early practice tomorrow morning, and he had already stayed up late the past couple of nights in order to watch the Grand Prix Final. (Stupid time zones…) Though Kanako had been understanding of him wanting to watch his idol compete, even his sweet-natured coach was bound to lose her patience with him showing up for practice dog-tired yet again.
Well, there were only a few skaters left to perform in the exhibition. It wouldn't be a huge deal to skip out on watching them live – it wasn't as if anybody was going to top the brilliance of Yuuri's skate with Viktor, anyway – but a rumor was going around the skating world that Yuri Plisetsky had ditched his usual exhibition program for something he had choreographed himself last minute. Kenjirou had to admit he was intrigued, especially after seeing the preview of Yuri's heavy eye make-up Mila had posted on her Instagram an hour ago with the cryptic message, "Welcome to the madness."
If he was going to stay up any longer, though, he was going to need some reinforcement. It was a struggle to even keep his eyes open. After pausing the live-stream as Mila took the ice for her exhibition, Kenjirou headed downstairs.
It was a good thing his older brother was a workaholic who usually kept late hours while studying for his medical school exams. There was already an almost full carafe of coffee on the counter, still piping hot. Minami rose up on his tiptoes and reached for his favorite mug – a custom order plastered with a photo of Yuuri in his Lohengrin costume – from the nearest upper cabinet. He poured himself a cup, then added several scoops of sugar to hide the bitter taste before heading back to his room.
"Ken-kun? Is that you?"
Kenjirou paused at the foot of the staircase at the sound of his name and looked around. The door to the nearby study was slightly ajar, light spilling into the otherwise darkened hallway. Walking over, he poked his head inside. As usual, Hiroto was hunched over his desk, typing away at his computer.
"Hey, Nii-chan!" Kenjirou said. "I was just getting a cup of coffee."
"It's a bit late for caffeine, isn't it?" His brother spun around in his chair to face the door and took off his black-frame glasses, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Don't you have an early practice tomorrow?"
Kenjirou resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Hiroto was one to talk when he practically lived on a caffeine drip, lucky if he managed to get at least five hours of sleep a night. "I don't plan to stay up too much longer. I just want to finish watching the exhibition from the Grand Prix Final. There are only a few skaters left to perform."
"Mmm." He turned his attention back to his computer, taking a sip of his own cup of coffee.
"You shouldn't stay up too late either. Kaa-san's been worried about how much you've been studying lately. She says it's important to get your rest, too."
"I'm fine, I'm fine," Hiroto insisted with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Good night, Ken-kun."
"'Night, Nii-chan."
Back in his room, Kenjirou settled in front of his laptop, cup in hand, and unpaused the stream. Next up was Mila, the champion of the ladies' event, with her fun Lady Gaga program. He didn't envy anybody who had to skate directly after Yuuri and Victor's gorgeous duet, but Mila, ever the entertainer, fed off the energy, shining as brightly as her sequin-encrusted catsuit. After her came the pairs' champions, who skated a pretty, but mostly forgettable program to a romantic ballad. Having seen the program a couple of times already that season, Kenjirou fast-forwarded through most of it until he got to the ice dance champs. Their exhibition was one of his favorites of the season, a humorous take on everyone's favorite warhorse, Swan Lake. Kenjirou laughed at the couple's antics until he was almost in tears again.
Finally, it was Yuri's turn. An audible gasp arose from the audience as the Ice Tiger of Russia took the ice wearing a much different costume than the one he usually wore for his "Angel of the Fire Festival" exhibition. It looked more like an outfit somebody would wear to go clubbing than a proper skating costume, but it suited him.
Really suited him.
Kenjirou shifted in his desk chair as Yuri began to skate, a warmth rising to his cheeks that had nothing to do with the coffee in his cup.
When had Yuri Plisetsky become so...hot? Kenjirou remembered him as a junior, a young prodigy with a natural flexibility that was unusual to see in the men's event. From his very first international event, fans and commentators alike were touting him as the next Viktor Nikiforov. They had competed against each other a few times – most notably at last season's Junior Worlds which Yuri won (for the second time) and Kenjirou placed a respectable seventh – but he doubted Yuri even knew who he was.
He almost spewed coffee on his computer screen when Yuri shrugged off his purple blazer and threw it on the ice. His black tank top was practically shredded in the back, the fabric held together only by a few thin strips. Almost his entire back was exposed. If he was wearing any kind of illusion mesh – which Kenjirou doubted – it blended perfectly with his pale skintone. Was he even allowed to show that much skin on the ice? No, while Yuri would probably receive a costume deduction in competition, the rules were much looser for the gala. Almost anything goes in exhibitions. Still…
Kenjirou set his half-drunken coffee cup down on his desk, pushing it out of the way to prevent any other possible accidents. A good thing, too, because Yuri's edgy costume was far from the only shocking aspect of his new program. It was a direct 180 from his two classical competition programs, choreographed to best show off his balletic grace and flexibility. This program was much more...raw. Kenjirou couldn't take his eyes off of him, his heart racing as Yuri skated a spread eagle into an incredible triple axel that was almost (but not quite) as good as Yuuri's, followed by one of the highest and most spectacular Russian split jumps he had ever seen in his life. And then…
"Oh, kami-sama…" Kenjirou breathed as Yuri ripped off his sunglasses, finally revealing the smoky eye make-up Mila had teased on her Instagram, and flung them into the crowd.
And, to top it all off, Otabek Altin, of all people, made a surprise appearance at the boards to yank off Yuri's fingerless gloves, pulling the second one off with only his freaking teeth!
Kenjirou swallowed, hard.
What was Yuri doing to him? Yuuri would always be his number one idol, but Yuri… Seeing him like this…
Kenjirou nearly jumped out of his skin when somebody knocked on his door, the sound almost perfectly synchronized with Otabek "shooting" Yuri dead at the end of his program. Slamming the lid of his laptop close, he called for whoever it was to come in.
"Hey, you still awake?" Hiroto asked, poking his head inside. "It's almost midnight, you know."
"I was about to go to bed," Kenjirou said. "The gala just ended."
"Oh, okay." Hiroto started to close the door, but paused, cocking his head to the side. "Hey, you're not sick, are you?"
"Uh...no?" Kenjirou frowned, confused. He hadn't coughed or sneezed or anything like that. "I feel fine. Why?"
"Your face is all flushed. Here." Coming further inside, Hiroto brushed back his red-dyed bangs and placed his hand on Kenjirou's forehead. "Hmm, you do feel a little warm…"
"Oh my god, I told you I'm fine!" he said, slapping his brother's hand away in embarrassment. Was the effect Yuri's program had on him really that noticeable? "It's just the heat from the coffee."
Hiroto's eyes roamed from the half-drunken cup of coffee on his desk to the closed laptop, his eyebrows arching as his mouth formed a small "o". "Right...the coffee. Of course." Smirking, he ruffled the top of Kenjirou's hair. "Get some sleep, kiddo. See you at breakfast."
It took a moment for the implication behind Hiroto's tone to hit him. Mortified, Kenjirou jumped up from his chair.
"Nii-chan, wait, it's not what you're thinking –"
But his brother had already left the room, the door softly closing behind him.