Chapter Text
With all the excitement, anxiety, and anticipation of skate competitions it was easy to forget just how much downtime there was during the actual event. For Yuri Plisetsky the actual amount of time that he ended on the ice was never enough. It started with early mornings, warmups, costumes, socializing with other skaters, all before he even got on the ice. Even after he finally performed he still had to wait around after, indulge interviewers, listen to a usually lengthy critique of his performance, and maybe at some point in the night get to leave.
Being fifteen gave him fewer options for escape, and he was usually at the mercy of his coach. At the behest of his coach he also had to indulge the whims of his current sponsors which usually involved more press time than seemed strictly necessary. It was all a very annoying game to play just so he could skate.
Yuri heard that his old friend/nemesis Katsuki Yuuri was skating at the event as well, but in a completely different bracket so they hadn’t yet crossed paths. He was sure the per usual Victor and Yuuri were inseparable, it was annoying to say the least. It left him little opportunity to try and convince Victor that he had picked the wrong student.
“Yuri my boy! Your set was very impressive today, glad to see all the time training is worth it!”
Yuri stopped his meandering, the underground hallways were usually empty during a competition. It took him a second to recognize the man calling him, but the American accent clued him in. He couldn’t remember the name but it was one of his bigger sponsors, they had met a few times during practice when he’d had to pretend play nice for the man with a fat wallet.
“Where’s your coach? I thought he’d be with you,” the man said, glancing around the dark hallway as though he would find anyone.
“He’s not my keeper,” Yuri grumbled, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “Probably still talking to reporters.”
“Why not come up to my box and watch the rest of the competition, he’ll be sure to find you there,” the man suggested, putting a hand on Yuri’s back and leading him towards the stairwell. “Maybe we can chat a bit about your funding, after your perfect performance tonight I’d say you’re up for a bit more pampering?”
“Sure, whatever.” Shrugging off the hand Yuri followed him up and up through the stadium, watching as the walls grew cleaner and more well kept the higher they went. When they reached the suite level there were a few skaters and rich looking fans milling around, likely wandering from a party in one box to another.
He wasn’t above admitting that the lure of more funding was always tempting. Life wasn’t always easy, but money sure helped with everything. Most of his checks got sent home, but he knew they weren’t always enough, and off season without any prize money coming in money was tight with his family and he had to rely on sponsors for funding.
The box was quiet and empty when he was led inside, dim lighting compared to the bright rink visible through the big windows. Some noise could be heard through the wall, presumably of a party in the next room over, but it was quiet enough in the booth.
He went and sat by the glass, someone he didn’t recognize was currently skating and he internally critiqued their poor form while wondering if Yuuri had already gone. The man came and sat next to him on the soft sofa, putting an arm up on the back and behind Yuri’s head but not close enough to be touching. Yuri shuffled away an inch and pulled out his phone to check social media.
“Listen, I was hoping we could talk a bit about your funding,” the man started, not watching the ice outside the window at all. It made Yuri’s skin crawl but he stayed in place. “You did such a good job tonight, just beautiful on the ice.”
Yuri kept his eyes on his phone. Victor had posted a selfie on Instagram of him squeezing Yuuri against his side with the caption ‘celebrating in suite 19 <3’. He had missed Yuuri’s performance already.
“I think we could work something out for some extra funding during the off season, if you could do something for me.”
Yuri froze when fingers tugged on his hair tie, letting his hair down. He didn’t look up, feeling cold that had nothing to do with the ice rink.
“You’re so beautiful.”
Yuri felt the man shift in his seat next to him and heard a zipper. He wondered briefly why his usual reaction of anger had abandoned him in this moment, he didn’t know what to feel and just stayed frozen in place. Where was his coach when he needed him?
“Give me your hand.”
He felt a clammy hand close over his wrist and all at once felt small and young and alone. The fingers around his wrist were firm and when he tried to pull him arm away he couldn’t.
“Work with me here and I’ll give you what you want, just-“
The door behind them swung open and flooded the room with light. The man released Yuri’s hand immediately and cursed, fumbling with his pants.
“Oh, I’m in the wrong-“ It was Yuuri, so polite with his freshly washed wet hair and red face, walking into the wrong booth. He stopped short when his eyes locked with Yuri’s, looking confused while silence dragged on.
“This is a private booth, get out!” the man next to Yuri bellowed, red in the face but not making eye contact.
“Er, sorry,” Yuuri put his hands up in an apologetic gesture with a bland smile. “I think your coach is looking for you Yurio.”
Before anything else could be said Yuri vaulted over the back of the sofa and pushed past Yuuri through the door and into the hall. He felt like he could finally breathe out in the bright hallway.
“Yurio!” Yuuri called from behind him but Yuri was already rushing down the hall. “Wait up!”
“I’m going to find Yakov,” he said firmly, slamming the door to the stairwell open with more force than was strictly necessary. Yuuri caught up with him and they brushed shoulders through the doorway.
“Wait, he’s not looking for you I made that up,” Yuuri said and they both stopped halfway down the stairs. “You just looked like you needed a reason to get out of there.”
Yuri felt his face heat up; there was that anger he needed so much a few minutes ago.
“Fuck off I don’t need your help,” Yuri grumbled and jumped down the remaining few stairs in one go, but hesitated just before the door. “Don’t tell anyone or I’ll make you regret it.”
He slammed the door open and practically ran out, leaving Yuuri alone in the stairwell.