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Honestly, Yuuri doesn't understand why it catches his attention.
The ice is dirty, chipped, and screams danger.
This doesn't seem to bother his new coach who's already running towards it with a purpose. His bike abandoned and pushed over on it's wobbly stand. He's smiling and clutching the bag he brought just for today.
If the way Viktor is looking at the frozen pond is any indication, Yuuri has an idea on what's in the bag.
Now he's running too. His heart pounding from working overtime, breathing ragged and anxiety climbing. Its not safe and Yuuri knows it.
The words of his mother surface, suddenly he's a child again.
A smaller hand is tucked inside a much larger hand and they are both staring down at the pond. On a morning stroll that once became a tradition for both mother and son.
She points a finger at the ice and the hold on his hand tightens. "Yuuri you stay off that ice, it's not for skating."
"it's not for skating!" Yuuri yells now, the snow crunching under his sneaker and the sound of a bag being zipped open.
Another warning builds up in his throat, but it gets lost on the way out. Because he's met with a smile, soft, endearing, and melts his insides. Not only did Viktor bring his own skates, but hes holding out a pair of white ones that are just Yuuri's size.
When he comes to a breathless stop at the bench. The one Viktor sits on like he simply belongs, lacing up his skates and looking foward with excitement. There's a spark, a challenge deep inside. Yuuri clutches his chest and speaks, winded.
"We'll get hurt."
Without missing a beat, Viktor hands him the skates.
"No we won't."
Yuuri wants to protest, he really does, but he just can't. Not when those words feel so certain. Of course he's worried, he can feel it run bone deep, but Viktor looks at him with reassurance. The afternoon light reflected off the patches off ice that dont look so bad, and for a moment he feels a sense of peace.
"Ok." Yuuri whispers. He sits down and laces up his own skates, but jumps when a hand squeezes his knee.
He looks up and feels winded again, but it's not from running.
Viktor appears thankful, and deep down there's a thin veil of respect. Enough so that Yuuri double knots his laces and stands up a little too enthusiastically. The hand moves from his knee and goes for his hand.
Its warm and inviting.
Viktor steps onto the ice first. He doesnt slip, or fumble to keep his footing. Yuuri still stands anxiously on the edge. He's counting down, trying to push himself foward, but he can't shake off the fear.
"Yuuri."
He looks up and Viktor is still holding his hand.
"You'll be fine, I promise."
Yuuri lets himself get pulled foward. He hangs onto the sleeve of the other's jacket and keeps looking down, but he never falters.
They are moving, skating slowly, cautiously. Yuuri more so, but they are skating and it doesn't feel too rough.
The sky is blue, the sun is a mere smudge of orange on the horizon and people are passing by with smiles and everything suddenly feels ok. No shattering ice, falling, but instead serenity.
Viktor seems to be getting a kick out of it all. He's got both hands wrapped around Yuuri's and his heads thrown back. He's laughing and his shoulder's are shaking, Yuuri knows he's never seen anything more beautiful.
A flurry kicks under their skates as Victor twirls him around, and soon Yuuri is laughing too.
Something happens, Yuuri's foot twists and soon he's falling.
The teeth of his skates kiss the ice one last time before he goes flailing face first. Just before he makes contact with the jagged ice, hands grip him firmly around the waist and pull him close. Its as if he was waiting to make that catch. Always standing close.
Viktor skates slowly, gently. He's got his arms tangled around Yuuri and Yuuri can feel the pulse of a heart kicking wildly against his back.
"You won't get hurt."
There's lips at his neck, they don't touch, but only hover. Slowly they lift over his ear. There they leave a little kiss, light and feathery.
"I promised."