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Chapter Text

In the days leading up to the Rostelecom Cup, back at home in Japan for a bit less than two weeks, Yuri practiced hard - refining the technical and performance aspects of his programs, and making sure that every movement was completely instinctual. He practiced that quad flip at the end under Victor’s merciless tutelage, until he’d nailed it in practice again and again.

While Yuri was doing that, Victor listened to a lot of Russian radio, trying to determine the fallout.

After Victor’s public display, Yuri and his relationship had deepened into something even more amazing than it had been. Victor knew he’d made the right choice, knew that it was what he wanted, to kiss Yuri and hold him. To rub out sore muscles, and talk into the deep hours of the night. Their student/coach relationship had only gotten more open, more in sync, and their relationship as lovers was blossoming slowly and wonderfully.

But they were going to Russia.

With his mother country’s LGBT laws, and of competing there while in a relationship such as theirs, Victor was open with Yuri about his fears. Japan wasn’t perfect either, of course, but according to Yuri the media (headed by a reporter who Yuri said had been a friend for years) had picked them up as a pet project. Their kiss in China had been subtle enough, and their other displays of affection even before they’d really been anything but (very affectionate) friends and professionals were seen as adorable stories, and honestly, money makers. It helped that Yuri was Japan’s rising star. The entire country saw him as theirs, and he could do no wrong. Victor didn’t think that - aside from something scandalous happening - they’d be in danger in Japan.

In Russia, Victor had been that star, that legend, but he feared that only would make it worse for Yuri. Russia saw Yuri as the man that took Victor away from them. And though he knew that thrilled Yuri (which pleased Victor) it concerned him to hear how the news was talking about their upcoming visit.

He clicked on a news article, reading through the cyrillic text quickly. Beside him on his couch in his room, Yuri was leaning on his shoulder, reading his own articles in English. It had been a long day at practice, and Victor knew Yuri was tired, but this was important.

“Hm,” Yuri sighed, and Victor turned his head. The article Yuri had pulled up on his laptop had a yet another picture of their tackle-kiss on the ice, from a different angle than he’d seen before.

“What is it, love?” Victor asked, and Yuri nuzzled his head into his shoulder briefly, before responding.

“This one is from America. I think the media there is searching for a scandal, mostly.”

Victor inclined his head. “It’s not surprising.”

“What about yours?” Yuri asked, leaning up to hook his chin on Victor’s shoulder, looking at the Russian article.

Victor sighed, a knot of annoyance tightening in his chest. “What I’ve gathered is that Russia is determined to ignore any and all displays, including the kiss. They’re barely talking about you at all, just how I’m returning. Your name isn’t even in this article.”

Yuri hummed, a low annoyed sound. “That’s a little insulting.”

“I agree.” Victor sighed. “Though I suppose it’s better than outright venom.” Victor supposed it took a little more than a public (if hidden) kiss in another country to ruin his reputation as a star and idol, not with the persona he’d built all these years. He had always been on the more flamboyant side in the public eye, just for that sort of freedom.

In addition to that, he was willing to bet that Russian news stations had shut down any visual of that kiss, so that they could continue speaking about him as a hero, simultaneously punishing and insulting his student and work by snubbing Yuri. It made something boil in his brain, made him want to bring Yuri and kiss him fully in the middle of the ice, to show them that now his love and passion was Yuri, and that they couldn’t do anything about it.

Said love suddenly put a hand on his arm. “Victor, you went tense all of a sudden.”

Victor let out a breath, and looked at Yuri. That course of action would be media suicide in his home country, and would only hurt Yuri’s chances, sad as that was. Still, they needed to address this, to come up with a plan. Because they were going into the den of lions.

“We’ll need to be cautious, my dear. I have a feeling Russia will be watching us very carefully.”

Yuri nodded, his face still going adorably pink at his endearment. “So, we should keep our distance from each other then.” He looked displeased at the thought.

Victor was about to nod, but then paused, thinking. The logical thing would be to avoid any PDAs and not give the media anything to talk about. But something was worrying him.

“If we change how we interact, the media might take that as a sign that things aren’t going well between us. Japanese media will be so disappointed.”

Yuri nodded. “Well, yes.”

Victor put a finger to his lips, thinking hard. “If we pull back from each other, Russia will be proven right. That you are a student only to me, and that they can ignore you in favor of going on about my glory days. We were always affectionate; I think we should act the same as we always have in public.”

Yuri looked at him, and now it looked like Yuri was considering something hard. “It’s a power play.”

“Indeed,” Victor said. “We can’t let them intimidate us. We may want to plan very specific actions, in order to show them that we can’t be cowed.” Victor looked at Yuri, holding his gaze. “I want them to know without a doubt that you are worth my time and love.”

Yuri ducked and blushed, and the tension of planning abruptly broke as Yuri leaned forward and kissed him. A bit too hard, but quick and warm. Victor adored how it took his breath away when Yuri initiated, and they both were pink and smiling when Yuri pulled away. Victor couldn’t help himself from cupping Yuri’s cheek, and rubbing his thumb over the blush there. Yuri covered Victor’s fingers with his own, and smiled at him, before breaking into giggles.

Ah! He was so cute! Victor sent up a prayer of gratitude, before he leaned forward to kiss him again, unable to resist the pull. They’d plan more later.

Chapter Text

The North Star Hotel presented their first potential trap. Victor knew that all the skaters would be staying there, along with their coaches, and many many media personnel, and skating officials. Privacy would be non-existent, and Victor didn’t want to call attention to himself and Yuri before the actual competition began.

The lobby was wide and already filled with the press, when he and Yuri arrived. They had sent up their things already, and went to get coffee (for Victor in preparation of a long evening of interviews and last minute preparations) and tea (for Yuri, so he could sleep - the day started early in the morning). Victor paused in the entryway of the hotel lobby as he put his and Yuri’s coats in the coat check, spotting the press before they saw them. Behind him, Yuri nearly ran into his back, before he stepped sideways and looked over Victor’s shoulder.

“What is it?” Yuri asked, and Victor pointed the finger of the hand holding the coffee cup.

“The press beat us here.”

Yuri straightened up, tugging up his sweat shirt hood. “We shouldn’t be in the same place yet, right?”

Victor sighed, and pushed his sunglasses back down over his eyes, in a fit of pique. “Not if we stick to plan,” he pouted. Yuri quirked a smile at him, and slipped away, looking completely non-descript as he edged around the group of reports. One of them began glancing at Yuri, and so Victor, like a sacrificial lamb, stepped forward.

The reporters noticed when he made himself visible to them, focusing on him fully. After all, as of right now, the media could care less about Yuri. They wanted to speak to Victor, then well Victor would speak with them. It wasn’t yet time to draw their attention to Yuri, even though he wanted to shine a spotlight on the man - to make the world know how amazing he was, to make then see what he saw when he looked at Katsuki Yuri. But, he’d wait until tomorrow for that.

The plan was this. To avoid any rumors, they’d casually keep their distance in the hotel. There were just too many reporters and gossip-mongers, and so without obviously avoiding each other, they’d miss any chance of someone catching them at anything fishy before the competition, and throwing Yuri’s name into attention before his skating here could prove his worth.

During the day tomorrow, it would be business as usual, with added actions they’d discussed to prove to Russia that Yuri was worth Victor’s attention. Once Yuri skated and won the crowd and country over, then they could relax a little. And Victor was fully confidence that they would be won over. Who wouldn’t fall for his Yuri?

The media quickly surrounded him, dying to talk to him and only him. Victor smiled small smiles that didn’t look as tight as they felt, and answered their questions with deft deflections and directions to watch Yuri; Yuri was the star of his show, Yuri was the one that Victor paid attention to, please follow his example.

Then, a reporter asked a question he hadn’t expected, though perhaps he should have. “If the skater Yuri has that much charisma, then don’t you want to face him as a fellow competitor?”

Victor was glad for the glasses, because he knew his eyes widened, and he remembered to close his open mouth in a smile. Because, that question shouldn’t have been a surprise. After all, hadn’t that been his original plan? Hadn’t he been bored with his competition over half a year ago, when he stood on top of the stage and just felt empty? Yuri was a spark of interest in a grey world, when he clicked on that video, and Victor remembered thinking that if he could coach him into proper competition, then maybe next year’s season would actually be fun?

He had intended on going back. He had only wanted Yuri for his talent, and when he heard from mutual acquaintances in his brief research to find out who Yuri was, that Yuri had ended things with his coach, and moved home, and was likely not returning to professional skating, Victor had moved fast to stop Yuri from giving up, so he could skate against him.

But he hadn’t known how good a team Yuri and he would make. He hadn’t known that Yuri the person was so much more amazing than just the skater Yuri. He hadn’t know he’d fall in love…Competing against Yuri, while it would probably be thrilling, would mean that he wouldn’t be by his side anymore… and Victor wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

Did that mean his plans had changed? What would he do in the future? Victor had no answer.

Luckily, dear prickly Yuri Plisetsky chose that moment to walk by and glare at him, and Victor found the perfect distraction.

“Hey, it’s Yurio!” he called, in no way subtle about it. The reporters didn’t mind, and immediately mobbed the boy, while Victor went over and threw his arm around bristling shoulders. Taking his glasses off, he said something about Yuri’s short program, and posed for the pictures they were already taking.

It was good to see Yuri. He’d spoken to him a few times since Yuri had left so quickly after the Onsen on Ice competition, and while he seemed unchanged, he knew that Yuri had been putting in immense effort for his senior debut. And he was doing so well too! Victor squeezed him with pride, before Yuri, like a cat at its limit of human touch, squirmed and scratched, sending his coffee flying. Shame that was, he’d probably need it.

“Quit acting like you’re still the top Russian figure skater. I’m the star in this event.” Yuri was growling, and Victor still saw that puffed up kitten he’d reprimanded before. He smiled as Yuri stalked off towards the elevators. That was where his Yuri was too, so to avoid any of the reporters following his gaze, Victor threw up two fingers.

“Okay, who wants a picture?” he sang, and there was immediate clamor. While that was going on, Victor fixed on his smile, and prayed that his and Yuri’s plans would work.

Victor was able to get away from the press, after posing for a good five minutes, and smiling more than he felt like, and he snagged an empty elevator gladly.

Keeping their distance in the hotel was annoying, and they’d decided to avoid the chance of being seen going into each others rooms. But Victor still wanted to see him, and so got out his phone and texted while he was heading upwards.

Meet me in the 8th flour lounge

He got a response back before the elevator had dinged.

Victor, we’re not supposed to be seen together yet

The elevator doors opened, but Victor finished his text before he stepped out.

A coach and student can talk in the lounge area of a hotel floor! we agreed no rooms, but I still want to see you

There was a pause, and then he had the happy sight of a blushing Yuri frowning at his phone in frustration. There was no one in the hall, and so Victor crept up, and poked Yuri’s sides playfully.

“Ah!” he yelped, and whipped around before rolling his eyes and smiling. “You’re breaking the rules,” he chided.

Victor pouted. “I didn’t think it would be so hard. You’re so far away, my katsudon!”

Yuri was still smiling, but he was very obviously keeping an eye on the elevator.

“I’m right here, Victor. And I’m not going anywhere.”

Victor was still never prepared for those moments that Yuri took his breath away. He dearly wanted to reach out and drag him close for the best hug and kiss he’d ever had, but Yuri was holding firm.

“Yuriii, come out to dinner with me?” Victor asked, and Yuri shook his head.

“Tomorrow night. There will be no repeat of the night before the Cup of China. We’re lucky that blew over as well as it did.”

“What if I promise no alcohol?” Victor asked, and Yuri still shook his head. He was still smiling, and still so very cute, but there were lines of stress and worry around his eyes. They’d been under scrutiny since they got off the plane, and Yuri was right - they needed to stick to their plans. Still, Victor had gotten used to being able to kiss away those worry lines, even though it had only been two weeks.

Victor sighed, knowing that honestly he had more to do tonight, and that Yuri needed an early night. He could perform with less than ideal sleep, as he’d made clear, but he really should be well rested.

“Alright, fine then. Good night, Yuri,” Victor said, reaching out to brush his fingers against the back of Yuri’s hand. “Try to get some sleep.” They were alone in the hall, but Yuri was still subtle when he twisted their fingers together for a moment, before letting go.

“Night, Victor.” Yuri took a breath, and stuck to the plan, slipping into his room without another word.

Victor sighed, and rubbed a hand across his temples, pushing his bangs up. He wanted nothing more than Yuri back in sight, or better yet in his arms. Goodness, what had Yuri done to him?

Chapter Text

As the event began, and with the added pressure of their charades, Victor kept an eye on Yuri’s anxiety. It seemed that as of yet, his nerves weren’t overwhelming - they usually weren’t at the beginning of events, but Yuri was quiet and focused as he stretched and warmed up. Neither Victor nor Yuri said much of substance, and the time to start in ernest drew closer.

The other skaters ignored Yuri, for the most part, which bristled Victor, but he didn’t complain.

Nearby, a couple of cameras suddenly focused on them, and he heard someone call out for Victor, the hero of Russia. Victor glanced at the reporter holding a microphone, obviously looking for a word. He smiled, and waved for a moment, before turning back to Yuri.

“You ready?” Victor asked. Yuri, his lips pressed thin, nodded.

The crowds would be gathering soon, filling in the seats, and the arena with their chatter and excitement. Yuri would be needing his noise canceling earbuds soon. He pulled them out of Yuri’s bag for him, and handed them over.

“Thank you,” Yuri said, but paused before putting them in. He looked at Victor for a moment, and quirked a little smile. Victor tilted his head.

“What is it?” he asked, and Yuri shook his head, smiling a little broader.

“I don’t know. You’ve barely said anything today, but… you’re doing just as I asked, and standing by me. I guess I just want you to know that I appreciate it.”

Victor gaped, feeling his face grow warm. “Yuri!” he said, protesting how this man was able to say something so simple, and make him melt into a puddle of warmth. Yuri was looking at him warmly, and Victor resisted the urge to kiss him, and the urge to look around to make sure no cameras were catching this unplanned moment.

Yuri knew exactly what he was doing to him, and showed a flash of teeth, before schooling his expression.

“Are you ready for this performance?” he asked, and Victor nodded. They’d planned it out already, before arriving and in quiet snatches as ideas occurred to them. Yuri would not be the only one putting on a show.

Now that he was out in the main arena, he could hear all the announcers speaking over each other in various languages. In English, there were a few mentions of Yuri’s accomplishments, as he took to the ice for group two’s six minute warm up. They were mild with their praise, but fair enough. In Japanese, Victor caught Yuri’s name, and his own, and while he only got the gist of some of what they were saying, it sounded pleased and proud. However, the Russian announcers were not saying Yuri’s name at all. Just Victor’s own.

He listened to the broadcaster for a moment, as they repeated that reporter’s question.

“...And I think the question on all of our minds is this. Will Victor Nikiforov return to skating after a brief stint of coaching, or was last season the last we’ll see of Russia’s hero?”

Victor glanced up at the crowd, at the newscaster’s boxes, and the flashing cameras. He heard the chatter of the crowd, and blinked back sudden and intense nostalgia. This was his home arena, and he’d skated here many times. He was used to being the one out on the ice, warming up under the proud gazes of his countrymen. Victor felt a gaping ache, overshadowing his previous annoyance, and his chest clenched with envy of all the skaters out there. Did he truly miss this stage that much?

Victor shook off his distraction, focusing on his student. Yuri watched the last skate of group one with a calmness that made Victor proud. He wished he could press his hand into Yuri’s, or pull him into a kiss, but those weren’t actions they’d discussed. No, they were about to be very deliberate with their shows of affection.

Yuri was first in group two, and he’d start in moments. Victor met Yuri’s gaze, and nodded slightly. Here came the first move in their plans - to show Russia that Victor was willing to put Yuri before himself, and in front of all his former glory, and to encourage them to do the same.

“Your skate is loose,” Victor murmured, and so Yuri (and prepared as he was, he didn’t even blush) nodded, and leaned back against the wall, to let Victor kneel at his feet. Victor heard the buzzing as the reporters and newscasters took in his position, as he tied Yuri’s skate. Then he looked up, and met Yuri’s eyes. Understanding passed through them, and Victor infused his gaze with every scrap of pride and confidence he could. Yuri would do wonderfully.

Yuri passed him his skate guards, while Michele Crispino’s scores were announced, and Victor smiled as their fingers brushed, and then he stepped out onto the ice.

This was why Victor was here, he thought firmly, following Yuri’s path, as he weaved through the other skaters, and loosened his muscles. He was beautiful, on and off the ice, but there was something magical about his skating. That was why he’d left in the first place, and why he’d flown to Japan, to find a treasure he’d never imagined. But, still the crowd calling his name felt good.

Behind him, rising up with a wave, Victor heard the cheers. They were chanting Victor’s name, and Victor broke character. He turned away from Yuri, heading over to shed his jacket and begin his routine, to smile at the crowd. They’d gotten him where he was, they’d supported him through it all, and Victor couldn’t help but wave in thanks, laughing.

But that wasn’t in the plan, and neither was Yuri’s response, not completely anyway. Yuri leaned on the wall between them, and reached for Victor with a dark expression. His fingers came up, and wrapped around Victor’s expensive tie, yanking him around to face him. Yuri’s face was so close to his, their cheeks nearly brushing, and Victor’s hair likely tickling Yuri’s lips. The crowd’s chanting became distant, as pleased shock rushed through Victor, and he remembered, abruptly, why he was here. He’d gotten distracted.

“The performance has already begun, Victor,” Yuri said, in a low voice, that shot straight through him. Victor breathed him in, smelling the hair gel, and slight sweat, before he responded.

“You’re right.” And Yuri was. They’d planned for something in this manner, just before he went out to skate Eros, but the way that Yuri’s hand on his tie held him firmly captive was entrancing. What was a whole crowd screaming your name to this sort of focused attention?

Yuri smiled as he spoke again. “Don’t worry. I’ll show my love to the whole of Russia.”

Yuri released him, and Victor breathed in fully, realizing he’d been holding his breath. The crowd was no longer yelling for Victor. How could they, when it was obvious that Yuri was the one their attention should be on?

Yuri skated in a large loop, greeting the crowd, and finally they were fully cheering for him. He looked pleased, and embarrassed, before he grew serious, his body shifting to the sensual movements this dance drew out from him. He stopped, in the beginning pose, and the crowd went quiet. Victor hoped they were as captivated as he was. The music started with a familiar trill, and Yuri began to dance.

Victor knew these moves, and knew what they did to him, and every time he looked forward to the way that Yuri varied it. This time, for the first time, Yuri didn’t send that flirty look towards him. Instead, delightfully, Yuri smirked and blew a kiss at the judges. Victor saw their eyebrows raise, jaws dropping and Victor grinned, murmuring against a finger on his lip.

“That’s right, Yuri. Seduce them now, as you seduced me so thoroughly. Bring Russia into the palm of your hand, and make them forget they ever heard about Victor Nikivorov.”

Chapter Text

The crowd loved him. In the kiss and cry, his score was announced and it was a personal best, yet again. Victor again went to his knees in front of Yuri, pulling his skate up and pressing a kiss on the side of Yuri’s foot. Yuri’s surprised ‘oh!’ was adorable, but this too was planned in essentials. Watch, Russia, as your idol kneels in front of the man he’s chosen to teach and love. Follow his example.

The cameras flashed, and the Japanese announcer sounded delighted and amused. Otherwise, Victor didn’t pay attention to what was being said. Yuri looked dazed and happy, with a mouth open grin but obviously all the attention was getting to him. He took the first opportunity to wave towards the next competitor, dear Yurio.

“Yurio!” he yelled, lifting both hands in the air. “Davai!”

Victor was startled a moment, but then decided to get in on the fun. After all, they’d made it through. They could afford to turn the spot light towards Yuri’s competition, and Victor’s fellow student under Yakov. And it was so cute that Yuri yelled that in Russian.

Ah, and Yurio was making such a precious face.

Victor shot up, not into his own chair, but into Yuri’s space, nearly knocking him over, whoops. He waved, calling out.

“Yurio! Ganbatte!” he yelled in Japanese, grinning to see that Yurio’s glare had only darkened, and he tore out onto the ice like he could take out all his frustrations there. Victor hoped it were true. He helped Yuri back into a solid seat on the chair, but now that Yurio was out on the ice, the cameras were finally moving off them. Victor let out a sigh of relief, never having felt the weight of the cameras so fully as he had that day.

They moved out of the Kiss and Cry, and the cameras quickly found them again. Victor was glad to see that this time, it was very definitely Yuri that the reporters wanted to talk to, asking about his theme, and the short program’s preparation, as well as the free skate tomorrow. Victor let Yuri handle the questions, and he didn’t disappoint.

Yuri only looked up when Yurio’s score was announced, and though Victor was proud of Yurio’s score, he couldn’t help but smile when it was confirmed that Yuri retained his first place score.

~*~

It was later, when the crowd was still cheering JJ for stealing Yuri’s first place, that Yuri stepped away to take a phone call. Victor was surprised - his family hadn’t wanted to bother him during the cup of China, and had waited for Yuri to call them each night. Also, considering the time difference, it was already far too late for anyone to be calling - not without something terribly important.

That seemed to be the case, as Victor watched Yuri answer his phone from down the hall. He was too far to hear, and he wasn’t trying to eavesdrop, but Yuri’s face went pale abruptly, his mouth falling open. Victor felt fear shoot through him, and he took a few steps towards Yuri without thinking.

Yuri hung up the phone and whirled around, not even starting at his closeness.

“Victor!” he shouted, drawing the attention of many of the passersby. “Go back to Japan right now! I’ll face the free skate tomorrow on my own!”

Victor stared, at a complete loss as to why Yuri would be saying that to him. Today had gone so well, and surely if he’d done something wrong, Yuri would have let him know, rather than sending him away - his mind caught up with reason.

“What are you talking about, Yuri? What’s happened?” he asked, trying to keep his voice low, even though Yuri had already announced the conversation to everyone around them.

Yuri’s face grew desperate. “Victor, it’s Makkachin! He ate some steam buns, and now he’s at the vet, and they’re not sure he’s going to make it, so you have to go back right now!”

Victor felt the breath leave his lungs, to be replaced with cold fear. He blinked a few times at Yuri, shock stealing his voice. Makkachin had been with him since he was 16, and at eleven Makkachin was getting up there, but age hadn’t yet stolen his energy and he was a healthy dog. He hadn’t expected to lose him so soon, and so suddenly, while he was so far away.

But then there was Yuri, who had panicked so badly before his free skate in China last time, who’d only asked for him to stay beside him. Who’d thanked him for that very thing that very day. How could he leave him? His student, his love - he was a terrible coach and boyfriend if he left him now.

“I- I can’t,” Victor said. Yuri stared at him, breathless, his arms still raised in determination.

“Makkachin needs you!”

“Yuri-”

“But you have to go back,” Yuri said, and Victor, his heart breaking to think of his precious Makkachin, argued back.

“Like I said, I can’t.”

Yuri didn’t respond for a long moment, staring at him with such pain in his eyes, and Victor remembered that shrine in his family’s home, to a little puppy that looked so like Makkachin. Yuri knew this pain, and he wanted to save Victor from not being able to say goodbye…

Victor pressed a hand to his forehead, stress making him squeeze his eyes closed. What was he supposed to do? His two most important beings to him both needed him, desperately…

Victor opened his eyes, and out of the corner of his vision, he saw that a new group of onlookers had joined the people curiously staring, likely wondering what he and Yuri were fighting about. It was Yakov, and his students, and Victor felt a ray of hope.

“Yakov!” he shouted, his breath loosening enough to nearly run over to him. “Thank god!”

Yakov’s expression hadn’t changed. Victor grabbed Yakov’s shoulders, and leaned close, feeling cracked open. He was sure that Yakov hadn’t seen such emotion on his face in years. “You’re the only coach for me-”

Yakov tilted his head, a sly smile lighting his lips. “What, you want to come back?”

Victor shook his head minutely, his eyes wide as he pleaded. “Can you be Yuri’s coach for just one day?”

Victor heard a chorus of ‘Huh?’s but really this was the best option. Yakov was looking at him in confusion. Yuri was just behind him now, worry emanating from him. And Yurio standing there beside Yakov was frowning with all his might.

“Vitya, what’s going on?” Yakov asked.

Victor opened his mouth to respond, and found a knot in his throat. It was Yuri that stepped in for him.

“My family just called to say that Makkachin is at the vet, and they’re not sure…”

Yurio gasped – he’d always been a friend to that dog, especially after staying with the Katsuki’s in Japan.

Yakov’s face softened a tiny bit. He knew Makkachin too, after all. He’d been there when Victor had gotten him, he knew how important he was to Victor.

“I need to go to him, so please, can you be there for Yuri, like you were so many years for me?”

Yakov had his own student in the running, and Yurio looked at Victor and then his coach, his face a mix of angry and concerned. Yakov looked between his current student, and his former one. Finally, he closed his eyes and sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Go, Vitya,” he said, roughly. Victor dragged him close for a stiff hug, gratitude filling him. Yakov was the closest thing he had to a father, and while he knew that Yakov disapproved of his choice to go to Yuri, he’d still be there for him when it came down to it.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

Yakov grumbled, and moved away.

“I only have a day to correct your playing at coaching. I shall do my best.”

Victor smiled, and behind him, Yuri shifted a little in what was probably defensiveness on Victor’s behalf. Victor didn’t mind; Yuri would certainly show his own merit.

“Thank you, Yakov.”

Yakov ‘tched, and then eyed Yuri. “Meet us here tomorrow morning, at six a.m. sharp.”

Yuri firmed his jaw, and agreed. Victor nodded at the rest of the Russian team, including Yurio, before he turned to pull Yuri away. Now Yuri was taken care of; he trusted Yakov to do his best, and it was far better than leaving Yuri completely alone, even if he was still worried about Yuri’s mental state. He prayed that Yuri would be able to focus enough to do a good job at his free skate tomorrow, even though he was abandoning him- But he was going home, he was going back to Japan to see Makkachin, and that meant he needed to get a flight, and call someone to bring his things from the hotel, and would he be able to get there in time-?

“Victor,” Yuri’s voice interjected, and Victor realized that he’d been walking fast, thumbing at his phone with shaky fingers, but he’d barely managed to pull up the website of the airline, when Yuri’s fingers grasped his. He started, and looked at Yuri, who looked worried, but calm and steady in a way that Victor wished he’d felt when it was Yuri who was panicking. “You need to breathe.”

Victor pulled in a breath, and it pushed back the spinning feeling in his head.

“Ah,” he gasped. Yuri didn’t let him walk anymore, pausing in an alcove of the hallway in the skating center. “I have to get a flight.”

“I’ll do it,” Yuri said, and took his phone from him, tapping the screen, while Victor tried to catch his breath. Was this what Yuri felt before that performance? Before so many of them?

“Okay,” Yuri said, after a few long minutes, and Victor snapped his eyes to him. “There’s a flight at 11:30 p.m., so you should be able to make it. Hopefully, they’ll let you switch your ticket for later this week to tonight.”

Victor nodded, and took the phone, putting in his credit information, and making the switch.

“I need to be at the airport in an hour.”

With the airport only sixteen minutes from the hotel, that meant he could go back to and take his things with him. They needed to leave. Yuri felt the same urgency, pulling him along by the hand until they reached the area where cabs were waiting. Yuri spoke with the cab driver, who answered in broken English, telling them that the drive to the North Star Hotel, where all the skaters were going would be delayed because of traffic. Victor felt his stomach and fists clench at the same time, and again, Yuri noticed and put his hand on Victor’s knee.

“Thank you,” Yuri said. “Please hurry as much as you can.”

The cab driver nodded, and they drove off, while Victor tried to calm himself, and not think about the possibility that it was already too late.

“Did they say what happened?” Victor asked, and Yuri’s brow furrowed deeper than it had been.

“Just what I told you, but I’ll text Mari now to find out more, and let them know you’re coming. You’ll have to take the train from the airport. With the flight times, and time delay, you should arrive by noon there, I think?”

Victor nodded, remembering the flight when he first arrived in Hasetsu. It had been a nine hour flight, while traveling six hours back in time zones, plus the train from Tokyo to Yuri’s city. It had certainly taken him a bit to shake off the jetlag, even though he was well traveled. But that time, Makkachin had been stowed safe and sound beneath his feet in the plane. This time… would Makkachin be there waiting for him?

Yuri was tapping on his phone, but he looked up when Victor let out an embarrassing sound, pressing trembling fingers to his lips. It was too quiet in the cab, too much to think about. His fear was choking him.

“Oh Victor,” Yuri said, eyes suddenly shimmering in empathy, as Victor swallowed hard. Victor realized that Yuri’s side was fully pressed against his, and that Yuri could probably feel his too quick breathing, his stiff spine as he tried to hold back his emotions. It was harder than it had been in years.

“I’m okay,” he said, and Yuri rubbed his arm, a warm touch where his body felt so cold. Victor couldn’t break down, they didn’t have time. The cabbie was driving as fast as he could, and they’d reach the hotel, and then- “Sir,” he said, louder in Russian. “Please take us directly to the airport, instead of the hotel.”

The man nodded. “It will take another fifteen minutes from here.”

“That’s fine, thank you.” The car changed directions.

“Your things?” Yuri said, somehow inferring where Victor had directed even though he didn’t speak much Russian. Victor shook his head. He didn’t care if they were left behind forever, but surely Yuri could bring them for him. Victor just couldn’t stand the idea of wasting the time to get those useless things. He had what he needed at the Onsen anyway.

“I’ll give you money for the cab back to the hotel,” Victor said, and Yuri nodded.

“I heard back from Mari,” he said, and all Victor’s breath left him, and he twisted to face Yuri. He knew he was probably as pallid as a ghost, as Yuri paused entirely too long, and not really that long at all. “Makkachin is still under observation. Nothing’s really changed, but he’s still hanging in there.”

Victor let out a breath of relief, dropping his head onto Yuri’s shoulder. He felt Yuri rub his back, but he lifted his head too soon to really take comfort in it. It was only a momentary relief; he needed to see Makkachin, and bury his face in his fur, to make sure he was safe and well.

It was just bad timing that it happened when Yuri needed him so, but he’d been stronger than Victor since the news. Victor met his eyes, and saw true worry and understanding.

“Thank you, Yuri,” Victor said, squeezing Yuri’s arm, where his hand still rested on his shoulder. “I’m sorry I can’t be there for you tomorrow…”

Yuri shook his head. “I will feel better if you were there for Makkachin. Please don’t worry about me.”

“Yakov will take care of you,” Victor hummed. “But, he may be quite prickly. Try not to take anything he says personally.”

Yuri’s lips thinned. “I don’t like how he’s always saying you’re not a real coach,” he said, an actual pout in his voice. Victor, the worry further away for a moment, smiled.

“I’ve learned that Yakov is more bite than bark. He truly does want what’s best for me.”

“Hmph,” Yuri said, folding his arms, probably playing up his annoyance about it to be a distraction for him. It was cute. Victor smiled wider.

“You’ll just have to show him that you’re what’s best for me, won’t you?” Victor said, wishing that the cabbie wasn’t there so he could lean in close, and feel Yuri’s blush, and take comfort in the feeling of his breath against his cheek.

Yuri’s blush didn’t disappoint, but he looked impossibly fond. “Victor,” he said, and he reached out to touch Victor’s cheek gently. Victor felt his eyes burn, filled with a sudden emotion he couldn’t describe. His fear for Makkachin was so close to the surface, he didn’t have any of his usual walls up either. Yuri noticed, and Victor’s breath caught when his liquid brown eyes snapped onto his.

“Victor, it’s going to be okay.”

Victor closed his eyes, and knew that a tear slipped out. He nodded.

“Okay,” Victor said, unable to say anything else. Yuri knew better than anyone that it very well could be not alright. Makkachin could die, before he ever arrived, just like Yuri’s Vicchan. But Yuri’s determination filled his heart, and he couldn’t help but believe him, just a little.

They arrived at the airport, and since Victor didn’t even have a carry-on bag, he got out of the cab with only what was in his pockets. Yuri asked the driver to wait, and stepped out with him, while Victor paid for their drive, and Yuri’s trip back to the hotel. On the sidewalk, Victor stepped back from the cab, and then abruptly got the breath knocked out of him. Yuri had crashed into his chest, and hugged tightly, and Victor squeezed back with everything he had, burying his face into Yuri’s neck.

“Try to sleep on the flight,” Yuri said, in a low tone. Victor huffed, knowing that wouldn’t happen.

“I’ll try,” he said, and Yuri kissed his cheek. Victor was suddenly fully aware at how much he’d miss this man. He hadn’t been apart from Yuri for more than a day in months, but it felt like much longer. Now, he wouldn’t be at his side while he competed, and it broke Victor’s heart to leave him like this. But, it was decided, and Yuri had made it clear that he didn’t want Victor to go through the same thing he had. It touched him immensely.

Victor pressed his lips to Yuri’s cheek as well, socially acceptable for the most part, and wished he could kiss his lips.

“I’ll see you back in Japan,” Yuri said, quietly.

“I’ll see you back at home,” Victor replied. Yuri smiled, a sweet red on his cheeks.

“Please keep me updated about Makkachin.”

Victor nodded. “I will. And you, about tomorrow. I’ll be watching.”

“I know you will,” Yuri said. Victor looked at him, until his urgency overwhelmed him, and then he pulled away.

“See you later,” he said, in Japanese, and Yuri laughed.

"До скорого!” Yuri said, stumbling a little. See you soon, in his native tongue.

Victor smiled and turned backward to wave, before heading indoors to find his flight.