Work Text:
There was a high pitched screeching sound, followed by a sudden halt in their descent.
And then silence.
Yuuri stood there, internally assessing the situation.
“We stopped.” He blinked, waiting a moment longer to see if the lift would begin moving again.
When nothing happened, he let out a long sigh.
Despite the measly two hour flight to France, the pair was exhausted. They were in back-to-back competitions together, the skating season now in full swing. It was hard to believe that just that morning they had been in Austria, and two days before that they had been in South Korea. At this point, flights, cabs, and hotels had all begun to simply blur together.
Yuuri might have been a bit more freaked out on any other occasion, but he honestly didn’t have enough energy to care at this point. All he’d wanted was to go out and grab a bite to eat before coming back to the hotel and hitting the sheets. Now they were stuck in an elevator. How cliché.
Glancing over the number pad, he spotted a button with a bell engraved into it. That seemed like their best bet. He gave it a press, waiting as it chimed.
A moment of silence ensued followed shortly after by the voice of a young French woman, by the sounds of it.
“Bonjour, quelle est votre urgence?”
It was silent again. He blinked.
It wasn’t until just now that he’d realized that Viktor hadn’t said anything this entire time.
Turning around, his brown eyes widened considerably as he took in his partner’s current state.
One hand was gripping the railing so hard that his knuckles were clearly turning white. The other was at his chest, bunching up the fabric of his T-shirt. Blue eyes stared, though at no place in particular.
“V-Viktor?” Yuuri asked, assuming that since the other spoke casual French that he would be the one to respond. When he didn’t, he was suddenly struck with the realization that he was going to have to do it.
“Bonjour? Veuillez indiquer votre urgence.” The voice spoke again.
“Aah, pardon, umm.. parlez vous anglais?”
“Yes, one moment please.”
There was silence over the intercom now, and Yuuri took the opportunity to look back towards Viktor once more.
He’d been watching Viktor nearly all his life, and he’d known the man intimately for almost two years now, and yet, he had never seen such a face on him before.
It was one he recognized all too well, but never thought he’d see on his idol of all people.
It was fear.
“Vikt--”
“Hello? Yes, what is the problem?” A heavily accented male voice came through over the intercom, and Yuuri couldn’t help but flinch at the way it grated over the intercom.
“Hi, uhh, we’re in the elevator and it stopped running.” Yuuri tried to speak clearly, though he could feel the sudden nervousness begin to crawl its way up his throat. It wasn’t the fear of being trapped in a metal box that was getting to him, but the idea that Viktor was psyched out about it.
“Yes... I see you are between floors 17 and 18. Please stay calm and we will send someone to assist you right away. It may be a few minutes, so please wait.”
Yuuri just responded in the affirmative, not bothering to mention that it wasn’t as if they had any other choice in the matter but to wait. He wasn’t about to sass the guy trying to help them though, his own lack of sleep and proper nourishment be damned.
As soon as the static over the intercom went silent once more, Yuuri made a sudden about face, reaching his arm out towards his husband. The man flinched away from him, causing him to retract his hand.
“Viktor, what’s wrong?” He pressed, and it was at this point that he noticed that Viktor’s lips were actually trembling.
He was still so blown away - how could Viktor be so afraid? More so, how could he have been so blatantly unaware of a fear that was this crippling?
“It’s okay, love. It’s okay, just look at me.” Yuuri tried to speak softly, hoping to distract the other.
Viktor’s blue eyes were hazy and looking straight through him. Viktor wasn’t hearing him at all. He was lost, stuck in his own world right now.
He knew. He knew because he’d been there himself. He had always battled anxiety throughout his life, and he was no stranger to panic attacks. And that’s exactly what was happening here. Viktor was beginning to panic. His soft breaths were coming more rapidly, he was starting to quiver, and tears were beginning to form at the corners of his eyes.
More than anything, Yuuri just wanted to know how and why he had never known about something like this. But he also knew that questioning the man at this point would only upset him further. Right now he needed to focus on calming Viktor down.
“Viktor, it’s--”
“Not enough.” Viktor rasped, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Viktor?”
“Not enough.” Viktor repeated, visibly shaking now as long legs gave out on him sooner than Yuuri could reach out and grab him.
He was on the floor of the elevator now, his heels digging into the linoleum and his knees instinctively drawing into his chest.
Yuuri was in front of him in seconds, his hands reaching out again to touch his husband’s shoulders to try and ground him, but Viktor flinched back again, this time with such force that his back collided into the mirrored wall behind him.
Before he realized it, Viktor had already begun to hyperventilate.
This was bad. Really bad.
Why was he freezing up like this? He had been the one in Viktor’s shoes so many times before this, and yet he didn’t have an answer as to what would be the best route to take handling him in this situation. Did he move in or back off? Did he try to talk to him or stay quiet?
Touching him seemed to be out of the question, so Yuuri bit his lip and decided to keep his distance.
“Viktor, it’s okay.” He started slowly. “Just listen to me, okay?”
Viktor didn’t respond, but he could tell that Viktor had heard him.
“There’s enough air in here.”
Viktor vigorously shook his head, platinum locks flying back and forth across his forehead.
“There’s plenty of air. We’re not going to run out.”
Yuuri demonstrated this by taking a long, slow breath in before gently letting it out again.
“Try to breathe with me, Viktor. Real slow, okay? In.. and out..”
There was a sharp and shuddering intake of breath on Viktor’s side, and the sound of it went straight to Yuuri’s heart. He felt so useless suddenly, and seeing Viktor suffering such a familiar type of pain had him aching to hold him.
“That was good. That was really good, love.” Yuuri murmured, taking another slow breath in to try and coax the other to follow his example.
Another harsh shudder wracked through Viktor though, his breath catching almost violently as a sob tumbled from his shaking lips. He began to shake his head again, as if he couldn’t form the words but desperately needed to convey that he was not okay.
Yuuri felt his eyes sting with tears as panic began to edge its way into his chest as well. He had no idea what to do. When he was panicked like this, it helped him to have someone hold him, to whisper calming things to him. But Viktor was clearly distancing himself from him, shrinking in on himself almost as if in a desperate attempt to make himself as small as absolutely possible. Holding him was simply out of the question.
Pushing himself back a little further, Yuuri made sure there was a notable distance between them before firmly grabbing Viktor’s hand in his own.
This time, instead of pushing away, Viktor grabbed on - tight.
Yuuri gripped back, thanking every god and deity that he could think of that he didn’t do any of the lifts in their routines. Any harder and he was certain his hand may just very well break. It was a little terrifying just how strong Viktor was sometimes...
And then it hit him. Their routines.
“Viktor…” He steeled himself, trying to gather his resolve. “I was actually thinking - maybe we should change the stationary lift in the second sequence to a throw jump.”
The man before him stilled, if only momentarily, before damp, blue eyes turned to look at him - really look at him for the first time since the elevator had stopped moving.
“...tomorrow?” His voice broke, and it was a miracle Yuuri understood him at all.
“Tomorrow.” The brunette affirmed.
There was a loud sniff as Viktor moved his free hand to wipe at his face, shaking his head slightly.
“It’s too late to change the routine now.”
Yuuri was shocked but incredibly pleased to hear Viktor get out a full, albeit shaky sentence.
“We’ve landed it in practice, but Yakov wouldn’t let us add it to the routine because we’re too inexperienced yet with pairs skating.” Yuuri continued, and he could tell by the look in his husband’s eyes that he had his attention.
“But if we’re going to get ahead this season, realistically, we need to up the ante a bit.”
“Yuuri…” Viktor’s voice still sounded strained, but was now laced with slight exasperation and perhaps, if you squinted, a little bit of curiosity. “It’ll never work. Yakov forbade us from adding it for a reason.”
Yuuri did his best not to smile at that. Leave it to Viktor – Viktor of all people – to be the voice of reason between them right now.
“But you know that we can pull it off.” The younger male narrowed his eyes, a confidence rarely shown off the ice or outside of the bedroom flashing across his face.
Viktor’s grip loosened just the slightest bit.
“I know what you’re trying to do.”
Yuuri arched a single brow, as if to say ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about,’ though the slight upwards hitch of his lips might have given him away.
The static of the intercom sparking to life once more interrupted anything they might have said further.
“Hello, we have minor problem with the generator, but we fix it now. It will be just a few more minutes. Thank you for being patient.”
Yuuri smiled at the intercom out of habit before turning back to the man before him.
“Hear that? In a few minutes we’ll be standing outside, just fine.”
The older male had calmed down considerably, but he was still trembling slightly - Yuuri could feel it in his grip and see it in the cautious smile he flashed reassuringly. It was all very ironic to Yuuri, seeing as he was the one who was supposed to be doing the reassuring, but he didn’t press it.
“Thank you.” Viktor whispered, pulling Yuuri’s hand to his lips before kissing their intertwined fingers softly. “Thank you, my precious Yuuri.”
- - -
A hotel manager had approached them shortly after they were off the elevator again. One look at Viktor and the man knew - despite how he tried to hide his reddened eyes behind silver bangs, looking away and keeping himself partially blocked by Yuuri’s smaller, yet protective figure - the trouble this had caused them.
He apologized just shy of profusely, speaking mostly to Yuuri as Viktor distanced himself, standing back a few feet. Yuuri, honestly eager just to get away and be alone with his husband for the time being, waved his hand and assured him that ‘these things happen.’
The manager asked if they had had dinner yet, and seeing as that’s what they were originally trying to do, Yuuri responded in the negative. No sooner had he done so they were offered room service, free of charge.
In the end, Yuuri wasn’t sure if the manager had somehow recognized who they were, or if they were just persistent on providing above and beyond service - which really should be expected anyways, considering that this was one of the nicest hotels in the area - but he was thankful when less than 20 minutes later they were back in the comfort of their room with hot meals in front of them.
They ate in semi-comfortable silence. Yuuri kept throwing glances towards Viktor, as if he were ready to jump and defend him at the first sign that something was upsetting him. But for the most part, Viktor had calmed down. He was just unusually quiet now, which had Yuuri on edge. He still had so many questions…
“You’re claustrophobic?”
Yuuri internally groaned, frustrated that after so long, he had chosen to break the silence with such a blunt question. He flustered, ready to apologize and tell the other to never mind it, but Viktor beat him too it.
“And cleithrophobic.”
Yuuri paused, unfamiliar with the term. Viktor must have seen the question in his expression, because he quickly added, “the fear of being unable to escape.”
The brunette could only bring himself to nod slowly.
It was just so… out of left field.
And yet, strangely, it somehow made sense.
The first thing that came to mind was Viktor’s old apartment - a spacious loft with an open layout plan. It wasn’t that there was a lot of square footage to go around so much as there just appeared to be.
The next thing that came to mind was Viktor’s car - his barbie pink open-top convertible. While there really was no reasoning concerning the color, the style of the car made sense. When you ride in it, feel the wind breezing through your hair, you can’t help but feel free.
Free. That’s right.
Viktor’s career was probably the most freeing thing of all.
Yuuri was thankful that he too could share the same ice as the other man - could relate with and understand not only the rigorous training schedules, the strict dieting, and the intensity of competing - but the way gliding across the ice made it feel like you were flying. When you were out there on the ice, the rest of the world seemed to fade away. It was one of the reasons Yuuri had clung to it so much in his youth. Who wouldn’t be tempted by the appeal of being able to just.. escape it all?
He still wanted to know why Viktor was afraid, but more importantly…
“Why did you never tell me?”
Yuuri couldn’t hide the slight hurt in his voice as he frowned, brows gently knit together.
Soft brown eyes searched for familiar prismarine blue, but was disappointed to see his lover turned away, eyes downcast and hidden by his hair. Yuuri yearned to reach out and push that annoying lock out of his face and kiss the man’s adorable forehead.
Viktor gave a light, noncommittal shrug of his shoulders before quietly responding.
“I didn’t want to burden you with it.”
Yuuri’s brows furrowed further, frustration ever so slowly taking hold.
“How can you say that when you yourself are burdened with all of my fears, my anxieties?”
Viktor worried at his lower lip, eyes still dancing and landing anywhere but on his husband’s upset face.
“You know they’re not a burden, Yuuri.”
“Then why would--”
“Because!” Viktor cut him off, looking a mix of distraught and defensive. “Because I… It’s just…” The famed figure skater fumbled for words. “I never wanted you to see me like that.”
“Viktor, I don’t understand...” Yuuri pressed, voice soft.
Viktor sighed, his eyes finally coming to rest on Yuuri’s worried face.
“I knew you looked up to me. Idolized me, even. Ever since I first met you back in Japan, I knew I needed to be a coach who was worthy enough to stand beside you and teach you.”
Yuuri went to open his mouth but Viktor continued. “Trust me - you had so little faith in yourself back then - I needed you to skate for something, but if not for your reputation, then for mine. But if you had known that I… that I had such a fear… you never would have been able to look at me seriously as a coach, let alone as…” Viktor’s voice lowered as he searched for the right words. “...as an equal.”
Yuuri abandoned what was left of his tray of food, standing to move over to the bed where Viktor sat. Viktor didn’t meet his eyes, but didn’t resist either when the younger of the two placed a hand in his hair, the other cupping the side of his face. He knew Viktor was feeling ashamed, which was all the more reason he needed to face him now.
Gently turning Viktor’s face upwards so that their eyes locked, Yuuri brought their foreheads together.
“I know you may not believe me Viktor, but know that there’s almost nothing in this world that could have made me think less of you.”
Viktor’s eyes fell, and Yuuri quickly snapped “no, look at me. Look only at me, Viktor.”
The older male could never deny Yuuri anything, and so his eyes slowly tracked back to meet his. His irises quivered at the intense gaze he was met with.
“Yuu--”
“Please, listen to me, and trust me when I say that you are more than worthy of a person like me.”
“Yuuri.”
“Listen.” Yuuri interrupted again.
Viktor bit his tongue. For now.
“You are worthy. You are… absolutely amazing, Viktor. But if there’s one thing that has changed since I’ve met you, it’s that I’ve only come to realize that you’re not perfect - you’re human. And the human Viktor that I came to know – the one who could cut a rug straight across the continent, the one that sings the alphabet backwards when he brushes his teeth, the one who can somehow be cheerful at 5 am without any caffeine, the one that--”
“Yuuuuuri.” Viktor whined, a light flush spreading across his cheeks.
“--calls tangerines “pocket pals," the one that always hugs my parents like they were his own, the one who has accepted all of me and my ridiculous flaws — that, is the Viktor I fell in love with. And I don’t care if you’re afraid of tight spaces, or if you had a secret fetish for clowns--”
“Yuuri, please."
“--you’re the only person I want beside me. On and off the ice, Viktor, you’re the only one I want, and I don’t want you to try and be anything other than who you are - Viktor Nikiforov - five time gold medal championship figure skater and husband to the luckiest man in the world."
Viktor was without words now, his face flushed and tears beginning to blur his vision.
“Yuuri…”
“I love you, Viktor. Every part of you.”
And then they were kissing.
And it was soft and sweet and Yuuri was certain he could taste the salt of the man’s tears mingling between their lips.
They pulled away and their eyes met once more.
“Помни, я всегда буду рядом.” Yuuri spoke softly. “In a pinch.”