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Before this, Victor thought he knew everything there was know about the cold, unforgiving surface of an ice rink.
But it was funny how a season off had rearranged everything he thought he knew, his priorities, his feelings towards life and how it should be lived, the things he thought about when he first woke up to the last thing he thought of before he went to sleep. They were all different now to what they were a year ago, and Victor didn’t know if it was him that had really changed or the ice itself, but an empty ice rink was a completely new thing to him this season.
He realised how devastatingly bare it had felt to him before, how painfully quiet the hiss of only one pair of skates was when you were skating for nothing but yourself, and now, Victor knew that the frozen surface of that lonely ice was just a true reflection of someone who’d been just as bare and lonely inside.
The realisation should have hurt, the stark truth that his skating before now had all been a lie, it should have brought him to his fucking knees that before now he thought he was worthy of all the praise he’d been bestowed with, the years of thanks and gratitude he’d given through his fake smiles, winning to make everyone buthimself happy, those years dedicated to himself he’d never get back, the bloody feet from too many hours in skates, sweat from pushing himself for too long for too many days and nights, injuries he’d ignored just like he had life and love, everything to win gold just because he could, because before now there’d been no better reason.
Victor understood now, that you could skate with an emotion in mind, that you could lie your way through some of the most heartfelt routines on the planet and win, after all it’s what he’d been doing his entire life before now.
It was another thing completely to skate and feel what you were skating in every thread of your soul, to use the blank canvas of the ice and carve that feeling into something solid for the world to see with the blade of your skates.
Before now, before Yuuri, all Victor ever wanted with his routines was to surprise everyone, he’d used the ice to give them all a show, he’d scribbled meaningless nothings on the that ice that’d melted away into nothing the moment he stepped away for a season.
That season off, the one with no gold medals and no world records, the one with no victories or podium finishes, Victor knew would be the best season of his life, regardless of what happened this season.
This season, his return to competition with Yuuri at his side, Yuuri who’d stepped away from competition himself for a season with the intention of coming back bigger and better, Yuuri, who was the first thing he thought of when he woke up, the last thing he thought of when he went to sleep, Yuuri, who’d shown him a whole new world, who’d shown him what it was like to skate with feelings and a will so strong that it would bring a mountain to its knees. Yuuri Nikiforov, who’d shown him how to really skate, who’d shown him how to engrave the ice with an everlasting picture of his soul, Yuuri, who’d rewritten Victor’s life as he knew it and placed himself in the number one spot, and there was no where else Victor would rather have him.
He’d spent months in St Petersburg composing this routine with no expectations from anyone, with no thoughts of winning or perfection, and these months with the ice to himself were the best ones of his life, because he’d been able to skate with nothing but Yuuri on his mind, knowing that no matter what happened he’d still have exactly what he wanted.
His theme this year was ’Finding Home.’, and he’d never been as eager as this to share his routines before, because it wasn’t everyone he was skating for now, it was only Yuuri, only him that he wanted to share with, to have him see the feelings that he was about to etch into the surface of the ice that never lied.
No one had seen this particular skate before now but Yakov, who’d watched without music, without knowing his theme, without knowing what Victor thought of now when he put on his skates, without knowing that his heart hurt because he hadn’t seen Yuuri in months and finally knew what homesickness felt like, without knowing that this wasn’t for himself anymore, and he’d still shed a quiet tear at the end and said he wouldn’t change a thing.
Victor could feel actual nerves trembling in his fingers now as his reappearance on the ice was announced over the speakers after JJ’s skate, he could feel the unsteady beat of his heart because Yuuri was here with him at the kiss and cry bidding him good luck for a routine he’d kept secret from him, the only person that mattered. Yuuri had given him unwavering support during their months apart, instead of morning kisses and late night cuddles he got text messages and phone calls, he got photos of Makkachin under the cherry blossom tree on the hill in Hasetsu, he got Yuuri’s selfies and snap chats of him waking up and going to sleep, even in digital form Victor could see the sparkle in his eyes and the warmth in his smile and Victor didn’t know how he’d ever properly lived without all those things before.
That smile was real in front of him now after they’d reunited in Beijing for the Cup of China, Yuuri’s fingers were warm and they were shaking just as much as Victor’s were as they clasped fingers, as they bumped foreheads and felt the heat of each other’s breath.
Victor forgot the world at his back then, he ignored it all for his life and love in front of him, and Yuuri whispered ‘davai’ for only him to hear, that was all Victor needed to skate for now.
Gliding onto the ice with that in mind was like finding home with Yuuri all over again, whether the stadium was silent or whether he just couldn’t hear anything but the whisper of his skates that echoed Yuuri with every step he didn’t know, all he knew was that the only person he wanted to surprise now was Yuuri.
He’d never performed like this before, that much Victor knew, and as the music started Victor thought about everything that had brought him to this point, the emptiness Yuuri had revealed after the banquet so long ago, the constant skate, sleep, eat and nothing else that his life used to be, the stale air of his apartment that’d never really been lived in, and as he built up speed with long strides of his legs into a spread eagle he felt the wind of Hasetsu in his hair, the smell of the ocean breeze with the seagulls that teased Makkachin as they all walked down the beach together.
The steel of his skates clapped in approval as he landed on the ice after his first quadruple flip facing Yuuri’s direction, and it was Victor who couldn’t keep the smile from his face now because Yuuri was looking at him like he didn’t know how to look away, white knuckles with a gleaming gold ring on one finger holding onto the side rail with eyes so full of something Victor finally understood himself, devotion and loyalty and everything Victor didn’t know he needed until he’d already found them.
He could hear the hiss his skates made across this ice now, but this time it was coupled with the thunderous beat of his heart as he laid out a routine he’d never dreamed of before, before he had someone to dedicate it to, before he had a reason to be nervous or excited, before he had a fucking reason to skate.
His legs burnt with the effort, and he knew if it were Yuuri here instead of him he’d still give it everything he had, and so that’s what Victor would do too, he circled the rink with fire in his veins and exhaustion in his lungs and thought of all the times at the Ice Castle when Yuuri made his stamina seem like that of a child, and Victor laughed in the middle of his routine as he threw himself into a quad salchow and remembered the time he made Yuuri carry him home complaining he was tired when he’d just wanted a reason to be close to him.
Fortunately for Victor, skating with Yuuri for so long had improved his endurance, and so he came to the hardest second half of a routine anyone had ever pulled with plenty more to give, with plenty more to say with the ice at his feet, and as the chorus of his song rang out, Victor knew there would never be enough time, enough blank ice or enough he could say that would show the world how much Yuuri meant to him, because that was the one thing he wanted to show everyone, and yet all he had was this mere 3 minute routine.
The faces of people in the crowd blurred as he spread his arms and looked towards Yuuri, as he launched into a quad toe-triple toe loop combination and stuck the landing with more ease than he ever had in his life, through his next combination spin all he could think of was how Yuuri would make this part look much better than him at this stage in a skate, how he’d come out into a turn exactly like he was now with energy to spare when Victor was on his last legs with one quad to go.
Through his waning concentration, his waning strength and lactic acid filled muscles, Victor heard Yuuri on the side line cheering for him, louder than the deafening crowd, louder than the thunder of his pulse in his ears and the pound of his heart so full with life and love and thoughts of home that would be waiting right there for him at the kiss and cry when he was done.
He stepped out onto one foot and watched the ice speed passed underneath him, he looked at all the lines he’d carved into the ice before now and knew they were perfect, and that’s when Victor thought that maybe he wanted to win after all, that maybe giving Yuuri his gold medal this season and watching his face light up would be worth it because it wouldn’t just end up hanging on the wall with all his others.
That sounded pretty good to him, and with resolve in his heart where cold ice used to be he landed his quad loop on shaky legs with only a few points worth of under rotation and had never been more thankful for Yuuri because any other season before this and Victor’s legs would have given out the moment he hit the ice.
The song slowed, he flowed into his step sequence running on adrenaline and stubborn will power, into a tight spin as the end notes began finally began to play, and as he came to a stop with one final turn he saw Yuuri exactly where he knew he would be, waiting at the kiss and cry with moisture fogged glasses because he was crying and for once Victor knew what to do with those tears.
The crowd was manic, screaming and whistling with fans that’d been waiting for his return, the old Victor Nikiforov would have given a wave, skated around the rink to greet his fans to accept flowers and gifts, all Victor wanted to do now was wipe Yuuri’s tears, to hug him for all he was worth and never let go.
He barely made it to the kiss and cry, not before Yuuri was the one throwing himself at Victor for them to both end up sprawled on the ice with their feelings written on the ice for everyone to see, Victor couldn’t help but chuckle as Yuuri lay on his chest, looked at him with damp eyes and the smile he’d been missing for the last few months.
“I wasn’t that bad, was I?” Victor teased as he felt the cold of the ice seep into his back and the warmth of Yuuri on top of him keep the chills at bay, and it was Yuuri giggling then as he pulled Victor up, pulled him close and poked him in the chest with a finger that said he wouldn’t have any of his attempts to make light of the performance of his life.
“Just when I thought you really couldn’t surprise me any more.” Yuuri sighed as he threw his coat around Victor’s shoulders and kissed him with all the heat Victor would ever need, with heartfelt happiness because Yuuri’s home was with Victor now too. They stayed a breath apart as the crowd built in volume because Victor was only just realising now how exceptional his skate had been, and Yuuri whispered to him again, “I’m so proud of you, Victor.”
Yuuri always knew exactly what to say to him now too, it seemed, because that was a set of words he’d never been given in his life, he never thought they’d mean so much, maybe from anyone but Yuuri they wouldn’t, but Victor knew he’d cherish them more than all his medals and trophies he’d won before now, more than the ones he’d win even after this.
He held Yuuri’s hand tight in his as they sat and waited for his scores, and as the numbers started to show, Yuuri piped up with a glint in his eye and a smirk on his lip, “That last jump though, you need to work on your stamina and your cardio could use some wor-“
“Yuuuuuri!” Victor cut him off with a pout as Yuuri burst into laughter and the scores finished coming in, and he was too busy paying attention to his husband who was still laughing with his hands clutched to his stomach to see the numbers, to see how high they were and how crazy everyone was going with delight because the old Victor Nikiforov wasn’t back, no, it was an entirely new Victor and everyone knew it.
“I’m sorry, “ Yuuri chuckled even through his apology, “I’ve always wanted to lecture you at the kiss and cry for once.”
Camera’s snapped in a frenzy as the total was tallied, their photo was taken over and over by multiple reporters and the image was of them leaning against each other with the teddy tissue box between them,both laughing because Yuuri never failed to surprise him either.
The final number came up, and Victor knew with a score like that, a new personal best for him, that there would be plenty more chances for Yuuri to do exactly that, “I hope you’ll lecture me for as long as I keep skating, Yuuri.” he finally said.
All he got in reply was the smile that said more than any words ever could, and it was all he needed.