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Victor Nikiforov was used to things going wrong, but not like this.
Victor stared at the melting ice in front of him, disbelief washing over his face. As he stood in the middle of the ice rink, the sound of his skates scratching against the slushy surface filled his ears, mingling with the rumble of malfunctioning compressors in the background. It had been a disaster from the moment he walked into the rink that morning, greeted not by the crisp, cool air of the skating arena but by the damp, humid scent of melting ice. The compressors that kept the ice solid had failed overnight, and now, the once-gleaming surface was turning into a pool of slush.
Mila, one of the other coaches, skated up beside him, her usually cheerful face scrunched in frustration. "The maintenance team says it’ll be at least another 24 hours before the ice can be fixed," she reported, shaking her head. "They can’t get the parts they need until tomorrow."
Victor sighed, running a hand through his silver hair, now slightly damp from the moisture in the air. "That’s just perfect," he muttered. "We’ve got the kids’ sessions in an hour, and the lease meeting with the building owner this afternoon."
As if to punctuate his frustration, a loud crash echoed from above, followed by a steady drip-drip-drip as water started leaking through the ceiling.
Mila glanced up and groaned. "Don’t tell me the roof is leaking again."
Victor pressed his fingers to his temples, trying to ward off the headache that was quickly forming. "It’s like the universe has decided to throw everything at us today."
The rink was Victor's domain, his second home after retiring from competitive skating. It was supposed to be a place where he could share his passion with the next generation, guiding them toward their own dreams of Olympic glory. But today, it felt like the rink was conspiring against him. The compressor failure, the leaky roof, and the mounting issues with the building’s lease were all building toward what felt like an insurmountable challenge.
As he surveyed the slushy, leaking mess, his phone buzzed in his pocket. Glancing at the screen, he saw it was Yakov, his old coach and now a partner in the rink operations. Victor answered, already knowing the conversation would add another layer to his stress.
“Victor, we need to talk about the lease renewal,” Yakov said, skipping any pleasantries. “The building owner is pushing for a 15% rent increase. If we don’t agree, we’re out by the end of the month.”
Victor closed his eyes, feeling the weight of the situation settle on his shoulders. The lease had been a looming issue for weeks, but now, with the ice melting and the roof leaking, the urgency felt suffocating.
“I’ll be there for the meeting this afternoon,” Victor said, his voice tight with frustration. “We’ll figure something out.”
“Figure something out?” Yakov’s voice bristled with irritation. “There’s nothing to figure out if we can’t pay. And with all these repairs piling up—”
“I know, Yakov,” Victor interrupted, sharper than he intended. He took a deep breath, reigning in his irritation. “We’ll talk later.”
He hung up the phone and ran a hand over his face, glancing over at the skaters who were still milling around, waiting for their session. Among them, he noticed a group of parents approaching, their expressions a mix of concern and frustration. Mrs. Nakamura, whose son was one of his more promising skaters, led the charge.
“Victor,” she said, her voice high-pitched and laced with tension. “What’s going on? The kids have been waiting for over half an hour, and we’ve heard nothing about the state of the ice.”
Victor offered her a strained smile. “I’m really sorry, Mrs. Nakamura. The compressors failed last night, and we’re doing everything we can to fix the problem.”
“But what about their training?” she pressed. “My son has a competition in two weeks. He can’t afford to miss any ice time!”
Victor bit back the retort on the tip of his tongue. He knew she was right in her way—time on the ice was critical for any serious skater—but there was nothing he could do about the situation at that moment. The ice was melting, the roof was leaking, problems with the building lease, and what else could go wrong?
Before Victor could respond, another parent chimed in, their voices blending into a cacophony of complaints. His head spun as he tried to address each concern, the weight of the day pressing down on him from all sides.
“Please, everyone,” he said, raising his hands in an attempt to calm the growing crowd. “I understand your frustration, and I promise we’re doing everything we can to fix this. Safety has to come first. I’ll personally make sure your kids get extra ice time once we’re back up and running.”
The parents quieted, though their faces still reflected varying degrees of dissatisfaction. Victor sighed, feeling like he was trying to plug holes in a dam that was on the verge of bursting.
Just as he thought things couldn’t get worse, one of the younger skaters—an energetic boy named Mikhail—decided it would be a great idea to run and slide across the slushy ice. His feet went out from under him, and he crashed into another skater, sending them both tumbling to the melting ice.
“Mikhail!” Victor shouted, skating over to help the boys up. “What did I just say about being careful on the what’s left of the ice?”
The boy grinned sheepishly, unbothered by the reprimand. “Sorry, Coach!”
“Mila, can you handle them?”
Mila nodded and hurried off to rein in the skaters, but Victor could see it wasn’t going well. The kids were too wound up from the delays, and the slushy ice made it nearly impossible to control them.
Victor closed his eyes, taking a deep breath as the chaos around him continued to swirl. He needed a break. Just a moment to breathe, to collect his thoughts, and to escape the feeling that everything was falling apart. This was not what he had signed up for when he became a coach. He needed a break. He needed to breathe. Most of all, he needed Yuuri.
Victor slipped into the locker room, closing the door behind him for a moment of peace. He pulled out his phone and scrolled down to Yuuri’s number, his thumb hesitating over the call button. Yuuri had been busy with his own work lately, and Victor hated the thought of adding more stress to his plate. But the thought of hearing Yuuri’s voice, of feeling grounded in his calm, was too tempting to resist. Yuuri always had a way of grounding him, of reminding him that not everything had to be perfect all the time. And right now, more than anything, he desperately needed that reminder.
________________________________________
Yuuri answered on the second ring. "Victor? What’s going on? Is everything okay?"
Victor didn’t answer right away. Just hearing Yuuri’s voice was enough to make him pause, the tension in his shoulders loosening a little. He took a deep breath, trying to gather his thoughts before responding.
“I don’t know if okay is the right word,” Victor said, his voice quieter than usual. “It’s been a nightmare here.”
He explained everything in a rushed torrent of words—how the rink’s compressors had failed, turning the ice into a slushy mess, the leaks in the roof, the angry parents, and the looming threat of losing their lease on the building. The more he talked, the more the weight of the day pressed down on him, but he didn’t stop. He needed to get it all out.
Yuuri listened quietly, offering the occasional hum of acknowledgment, but he didn’t interrupt. He knew Victor needed to vent, to let it all out before finding any solutions.
Yuuri chuckled softly, though Victor could hear the concern in his voice. "That sounds rough. I’m so sorry, Victor."
"It’s more than rough," Victor muttered. "I feel like everything’s falling apart, and no matter what I do, I can’t fix it." He could feel the prickle of tears slowly beginning to form in his eyes.
There was a pause on the other end of the line, and then Yuuri’s voice came through, calm and soothing. "Victor, you’re doing everything you can. Some days, things just go wrong, no matter how hard you try. It’s not your fault."
Victor closed his eyes, letting Yuuri’s words sink in. It was exactly what he needed to hear, even though part of him resisted the comfort. He wasn’t used to feeling powerless, to being unable to control the situation.
"I just want everything to be perfect," Victor admitted quietly.
"I know you do," Yuuri said softly. "But you don’t have to carry all of this by yourself. You’ve got Mila, Yakov, and the rest of your team to help you. And when you come home tonight, I’ll be here to help you, too."
Victor smiled despite the chaos surrounding him. "You always know exactly what to say, don’t you?"
"That’s because I know you," Yuuri replied gently. "And I know how hard you push yourself. You don’t have to be perfect, Victor. You just have to be you."
The tension in Victor’s chest began to ease, his grip on the phone loosening as he allowed himself to relax, if only for a moment. Yuuri had a way of making everything seem less overwhelming, reminding him that it was okay to lean on others, and not have all the answers all the time.
"I can’t wait to come home," Victor said, his voice softer now. "I just need to get through the rest of this day."
"You will," Yuuri assured him. "And when you do, I’ll be waiting for you with dinner and something special to help you unwind. Just focus on getting through the rest of the day, and leave the rest to me."
Victor’s heart swelled with gratitude. Yuuri’s presence in his life had always been a source of strength, but moments like these reminded him just how lucky he was to have someone who understood him so deeply.
"Thank you, Yuuri," he said quietly. "I don’t know what I’d do without you."
"You’d manage," Yuuri teased lightly. "But it’s nice to know you’d miss me."
Victor laughed, the sound lifting some of the weight that had been pressing down on him all day. "I’ll see you tonight."
"Looking forward to it," Yuuri replied, his voice full of warmth.
As Victor hung up the phone, he felt a renewed sense of determination. The problems at the rink hadn’t disappeared, but they didn’t feel as insurmountable anymore. He could get through the rest of the day—knowing that when it was over, Yuuri would be waiting for him.
________________________________________
While Victor was finishing his grueling day at the rink, Yuuri was already at home, preparing for the evening. He knew how much Victor had been struggling lately—how the weight of the rink’s operations, combined with his coaching responsibilities, had been taking a toll on him. Today’s disasters had only added to the stress, and Yuuri was determined to make Victor’s return home as peaceful and comforting as possible. Yuuri wanted to do everything he could to make Victor feel loved and appreciated.
He started by tidying up the apartment, creating a calm and inviting space. Victor was a stickler for cleanliness, and while the apartment was never truly messy, Yuuri knew that coming home to an organized, serene environment would help ease Victor’s mind. He lit a few candles, their soft lavender scent filling the air, and turned on some gentle background music—a playlist they often listened to during their more relaxed evenings together.
Next, Yuuri set to work in the kitchen. He started by cooking one of Victor’s favorite meals—a hearty bowl of pork cutlet bowls, Victor’s ultimate comfort food. The smell of the simmering broth filled their apartment, the savory aroma reminding Yuuri of the many times he had shared this dish with Victor back in Japan. . It was a meal that held a special place in both of their hearts, a reminder of the early days of their relationship when Yuuri’s skating had first started to improve under Victor’s coaching.
As Yuuri worked, his mind wandered back to the phone call. He could hear the exhaustion in Victor’s voice, the weight of the day pressing down on him. It was rare for Victor to show that kind of vulnerability, but Yuuri had always been attuned to his moods. He knew when Victor was putting on a brave face and when he truly needed support.
After preparing the meal, Yuuri set the table with candles, wanting to create a warm and relaxing atmosphere. He knew that Victor needed more than just a good meal tonight—he needed to feel loved and cared for so Yuuri had also drawn a warm soothing bath, adding some of Victor’s favorite essential oils to help him relax after such a trying day.
________________________________________
After setting the table, Yuuri took a moment to step back and assess the scene. He wanted everything to be perfect, not because he was aiming for some grand gesture, but because he knew how much the little details meant to Victor. It wasn’t about impressing him—it was about creating a space where Victor could unwind and let go of the day’s burdens.
Yuuri glanced at his phone, checking the time. Victor would be home soon. The pork cutlet bowls were ready, the bath was prepared, and the living room was softly lit with the glow of candles. But there was one more thing Yuuri wanted to do.
Opening his phone, he sent a quick text to Phichit, his longtime friend and fellow skater. Phichit had always been good at making people feel better, and Yuuri knew that a few encouraging messages from friends might help lighten Victor’s mood even more.
Hey Phichit, Victor’s had a really rough day at the rink. Think you could send him a little something to cheer him up?
Phichit replied almost instantly.
Of course! I’ll get Yurio and some of the others in on it too. He’ll have messages from all of us before the nights over!
Yuuri smiled, feeling a warmth spread through his chest. He knew that the skating world could be competitive, but they were also like a family. Phichit, Yuri Plisetsky, Mila, and the others—they all cared about Victor just as much as he did.
With that settled, Yuuri returned to the kitchen to check on the food one last time. Everything was perfect. Now, all he had to do was wait for Victor to come home.
________________________________________
Victor’s day had been long and draining, but as he approached the front door of their apartment, he felt a sense of relief wash over him. The thought of seeing Yuuri, of stepping into their home and leaving the mad chaos of the rink behind, was the only thing that had kept him going through the afternoon.
The meeting with the building’s owner had been tense, but they’d managed to negotiate a temporary extension on the lease while they worked out a long-term solution. The ice compressors were scheduled to be fixed by the next morning, and Yakov had begrudgingly agreed to let Victor take the next day off to recover from the day’s madness.
As Victor unlocked the door, the comforting scent of pork cutlet bowls immediately enveloped him, and he felt his shoulders relax. Yuuri was already waiting for him, standing in the doorway with a soft smile on his face.
“Welcome home,” Yuuri said, his voice filled with warmth.
Victor paused in the doorway for a moment, taking it all in. The soft lighting, the scent of his favorite meal, the sight of Yuuri looking at him with such care—it was exactly what he needed after the day he’d had.
Without a word, Victor closed the distance between them and wrapped his arms around Yuuri, pulling him into a tight embrace. He buried his face in Yuuri’s shoulder, letting the tension he’d been holding onto all day finally slip away.
“I missed you,” Victor murmured, his voice muffled against Yuuri’s sweater.
Yuuri smiled, his hands gently running up and down Victor’s back. “I missed you too,” he whispered. “How are you feeling?”
Victor pulled back just enough to look into Yuuri’s eyes. “Better now,” he said softly. “So much better.”
Yuuri leaned up to press a kiss to Victor’s forehead, then gently guided him toward the kitchen. “Come on, dinner’s ready. You need to eat something before you collapse.”
Victor chuckled, though it was a tired sound. “You’re right,” he admitted. “But this—” He gestured to the table, to the candles and the carefully prepared meal. “This is perfect, Yuuri. Thank you.”
Yuuri smiled, his heart swelling with affection. “You’ve had a hard day. I just wanted to make sure you had something to look forward to when you got home.”
Victor sat down at the table, his eyes lingering on Yuuri with a mix of gratitude and love. “You always know exactly what I need.”
As they ate, Victor recounted the events of the day in more detail, his frustrations spilling out as Yuuri listened attentively. He told Yuuri about the parents, the lease negotiations, the building’s infrastructure issues, and the young skaters who seemed determined to create chaos at every turn.
Through it all, Yuuri listened quietly, offering words of support when needed but mostly letting Victor get everything off his chest. He knew that sometimes, Victor just needed to vent, to let out the frustrations he tried so hard to keep bottled up.
When dinner was finished, Yuuri stood up and stretched, his arms reaching high above his head. “I’ve got one more surprise for you,” he said with a playful grin.
Victor raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh? And what would that be?”
Yuuri took his hand, pulling him gently toward the bathroom. “You’ve had a long day, and I figured you could use a relaxing bath. I already drew one for you, with your favorite essential oils.”
Victor felt his heart melt at the gesture. “Yuuri…” He didn’t know what to say. It wasn’t just the bath—it was everything. The dinner, the candles, the thoughtful way Yuuri had taken care of him from the moment he walked through the door.
“You don’t have to do all this for me,” Victor said softly as they reached the bathroom.
Yuuri smiled, his hand still holding Victor’s. “I want to,” he replied simply. “I love you, and I want to take care of you. Besides, you’ve had a day from hell—you deserve this.”
Victor’s eyes softened, and he reached up to cup Yuuri’s face in his hands. “I love you too,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “More than I can ever put into words.”
Yuuri blushed, his heart fluttering at the sincerity in Victor’s voice. “Then let’s just focus on getting you relaxed,” he said gently, leaning in to press a soft kiss to Victor’s lips.
________________________________________
After guiding Victor into the bathroom and making sure he was settled in the warm, fragrant bath, Yuuri left him to relax and unwind. He went back to the living room and sat down on the couch, pulling out his phone to check for any new messages.
As promised, Phichit and the others had come through. His phone was full of messages from their friends, each one offering a little bit of encouragement or humor to lift Victor’s spirits.
From Phichit:
Victor! I heard about your rough day at the rink. Just remember—no matter how bad it gets, you’ll always be the most fabulous coach in Russia! Take care of yourself, and don’t let those parents get to you!
From Yurio:
Stop being such a drama queen, Nikiforov. But seriously, take it easy, okay? The rink can survive one bad day. You’re not invincible, even if you think you are.
From Mila:
Hang in there, Victor! You’re doing an amazing job, even when things are tough. You’ve got a whole team behind you, so don’t be afraid to lean on us when you need to!
Yuuri smiled as he read through the messages, knowing they would bring a smile to Victor’s face too. He sent a quick reply to Phichit, thanking him for organizing the mini-support group, and then set his phone down, feeling a sense of peace settle over him.
He was about to get up and check on Victor when he heard the soft padding of footsteps behind him. He turned to see Victor standing in the doorway, a towel wrapped around his waist, his silver hair damp and slightly tousled.
“You look like you’re feeling better,” Yuuri said with a smile.
Victor nodded, his expression soft and grateful. “I feel a million times better,” he said quietly, walking over to sit beside Yuuri on the couch. “That bath was exactly what I needed.”
Yuuri smiled, reaching out to take Victor’s hand in his own. “I’m glad. And there’s one more thing I think you’ll appreciate.”
He handed Victor his phone, showing him the messages from Phichit, Yurio, and Mila. As Victor read through them, a smile slowly spread across his face, his eyes shining with affection and gratitude.
“They really care about you,” Yuuri said softly. “We all do.”
Victor set the phone down and pulled Yuuri into a tight embrace, burying his face in the crook of Yuuri’s neck. “Thank you,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “For everything. For the food, the bath, the messages—just… thank you.”
Yuuri held him close, his hand gently rubbing circles on Victor’s back. “You don’t have to thank me,” he whispered. “I love you, Victor. That’s all there is to it.”
Victor pulled back slightly, just enough to look into Yuuri’s eyes. “I love you too,” he murmured, his voice filled with warmth and sincerity. “More than you’ll ever know.”
Yuuri smiled, his heart full. He leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to Victor’s lips. “I think I know,” he whispered against his lips.
________________________________________
Later that night, after a quiet evening spent curled up together on the couch, Victor and Yuuri found themselves lying in bed, the soft glow of the moonlight filtering through the curtains.
Victor had finally let go of the stress from the day, his body and mind completely relaxed thanks to Yuuri’s care and attention. As they lay side by side, their fingers intertwined, Victor couldn’t help but marvel at how lucky he was to have someone like Yuuri in his life.
“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” Victor murmured, his voice soft and sleepy.
Yuuri smiled, his thumb gently stroking the back of Victor’s hand. “You’ll never have to find out,” he replied, his voice equally soft. “I’ll always be here for you.”
Victor closed his eyes, a contented smile playing on his lips. “And I’ll always be here for you too,” he whispered, his voice trailing off as sleep began to take over.
Yuuri watched him for a moment, his heart swelling with love for the man lying beside him. He leaned over to press a gentle kiss to Victor’s forehead, then settled back into the pillows, feeling a sense of peace wash over him.
No matter what challenges came their way, they would face them together. And that, Yuuri thought, was all that really mattered.
As sleep finally claimed him, Yuuri whispered softly into the quiet of the night.
“I love you, Victor. Always...”