Chapter Text
It wasn’t very common for Viktor to receive messages from Yakov nowadays. Since that the skater was officially retired at 30, there was little reason for them to communicate during the season.
Nevertheless, if a message demanded that Viktor call Yakov as soon as possible, Viktor was happy to oblige.
“Vitya. How is business?”
“Hello, Yakov! It's decent. Is this too early? You don’t sound too well.”
“No, it’s perfectly fine. I was up for a while last night.”
“Did something happen?” Yakov was not the type to stay up late, unless there was an urgent problem.
“Have you been keeping up with Yura’s season?”
“Ah…” Viktor had indeed. Unsurprisingly to many, their little Yuri had been growing fast. While his frame was still on the small side, he had experienced several growth spurts and was now around Yuuri's height. Although he was still very pretty, the title of Russian Fairy was seldom used. It seemed the allegory of a beautiful monster was spreading outside of Japan in its place.
His second season had been even more successful than his senior debut, with more gold around his neck than ever. However, at some point this season, the strain on his growing body had affected his performances.
Viktor could remember his own experiences with puberty and how often he'd had to change his programs and training routines to avoid serious injuries. Despite the stress, it had been one of the most exciting periods in his career. His own body constantly threw him off guard with both new limitations and possibilities. His drive for surprise had been fulfilling itself and he'd found a way to enjoy it as best he could.
He doubted that Yuri, who always made a point to understand and push his limits, was having as pleasant a time.
“When the two of you ran off three years ago, your husband’s place seemed to help him. Would you be able to have him over for a few weeks? I’ll send you his recommended training schedule and diet.”
Viktor grinned at his former coach's use of 'husband.' The old man was trying to seduce him. “And his choreography?”
“It hasn’t been created yet. But if you take on the job, we can discuss it later.” Viktor was going to coach Yuuri in Hasetsu this year, just like their first season together. However, he doubted he would find the career interesting after Yuuri’s retirement. Instead, he was focusing on choreography and developing training routines. He hadn’t realised how interesting it could be to learn about the lives of others! He loved working with skaters and finding ways to tell their stories with new programmes.
“I’m working with another skater now, but we’ll see how long Yura wants to stay.”
“Wonderful. I’ll take that as an invite. Thank you, Vitya.”
---
Yuri grumbled about the arrangement all the way to the airport.
He wasn’t against revisiting Hasetsu, but this impromptu vacation seemed like the worst thing to do after such a mess of a season. Sure, he’d reached the Grand Prix finals, but he didn’t feel as if he was sailing ahead of everyone like before. He couldn't even manage the podium this year. He was glad the season was ending.
And he hated his body. He hated how little he could truly bend now. Even if he was still one of the most flexible men in the Senior division, he didn’t feel as graceful and free on the ice as he had before. His stamina and strength had improved considerably, but he couldn’t bring himself to enjoy the new developments.
It showed in several of his performances. His jumps were better than ever, but his step sequences were practically amateur points-wise. He was growing to resent skating and at this point, he wasn’t sure how Yakov planned to help him, apart from this haphazard vacation.
Lilia was no longer helping him, so he'd moved all his stuff out of her home a few months ago. Part of the problem was the increasing number of arguments between her and Yakov, but she also admitted that she was no longer the right choice. His strengths were moving far into the jumps, which she couldn’t help with. He still practised ballet, of course, but her admittance that he could no longer even aim for the prima ballerina had stung.
He'd sold his soul to her, dammit. Now he wasn’t sure what exactly he was putting his blood and sweat into. More gold? Had that ever been his main drive? He skated to send a message, whether to Viktor, Pork Cutlet, his loved ones… what more did he have to say? How could he make it his message, when he was losing so much of himself?
Shit. Perhaps Yakov had the right idea about sending him on a break.
Yuuri’s sister was at the airport to meet him. He couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow as she searched the gate, her eyes pointed downward.
“Hey, I’m here.”
“Wh- Oh! God, Yuuri wasn’t joking about your height,” said Mari, her jaw open as she looked at him. “Nice to see you again, Yurio.”
“Yeah… good to see you too.”
She grinned at his reply, “That’s the nicest response you’ve ever given me. You’re all grown up, huh?”
Yuri scoffed, “I’m eighteen, what else would you expect?”
They continued the small talk as she brought him to the car and drove him to Yutopia. Her and Yuuko’s family were all doing well, with the triplets finally allowed onto the ice. Mari herself was having fun getting free food with online dating and Minako… well, whatever was happening in her love life, she was keeping very quiet about it. Mari was sure she had fallen hard for someone.
“Yuuri said he thinks you know the guy Viktor’s working with. I can’t remember his name, but I think he’s from Kazakhstan?”
“...Otabek?”
“Yeah, that’s it!”
“Yeah, I know him.” Recently, he hadn’t managed to spend much time with his best friend outside of Skype chats and texting. The only time their paths had crossed had been the Grand Prix finals, but Yuri had been so stressed about his program that he didn’t accept the invites out. Perhaps he should've been more surprised that he was here in Japan, but his friend had been interested in visiting for a while since Yuri brought it up so often. Viktor Nikiforov offering choreographies was as good a reason as any, supposed Yuri.
Well, maybe he could make up for his neglect while they were at Hasetsu together. He honestly owed the guy after using him as a vessel for his bitching, just to avoid him during the time they could meet.
Yutopia hadn’t changed much over the years. It still felt small, cramped and slightly stuffy, but it was cosy and had a pleasant smell of soap and freshly baked food. Yuri sat on the couch with a relieved sigh, stretching out his legs.
“Yurio!” cheered Viktor, jumping onto the teen, “Welcome! How are you? How’s Yakov and the others? How’s Russia?”
“Uh, g-get off me, you oaf.” Viktor had put on some weight, fantastic. “It’s all good… Vitya, I said stop!”
“Hey, Yurio,” greeted Yuuri, chuckling from the doorway. “How’s our favourite punk?”
“He… can’t breathe,” grunted out Yuri, eventually pushing Viktor off. “Where do I sleep? I’m going to unpack my stuff.”
Yuuri hummed, “You can sleep in the room you were before, if you like. We have another guest here, so Viktor’s old room isn’t an option.”
“Oh, right!” Viktor snapped his fingers. “We need to introduce you!”
“I already know him, idiot! You seriously forgot?!” Yuri waved Viktor off.
“Wow, you do?”
“He does, as you know...” Otabek walked into the living room, his expression neutral as ever.
“Hey, Beka,” said Yuri, smiling nervously, “Nice to see you.”
“Oh, now it is?”
“Hey!” Yuri pouted up at him, “I knew you were still upset. It’s why you hardly messaged me, isn’t it?”
“Don’t make that face at me… Yurio.”
“Oh, no way, you’re not calling me that. I don’t like-”
“Why, because I’m not close enough to you to call you that?”
“The fuck? You’re closer to me than anyone else, you idiot!”
“Then how come I’ve been hearing all this domestic shit the last few days from your ‘parents?’”
“What? Parents?” What was he…?
Oh.
Yuri turned to Yuuri and Viktor, his expression dark. “Is this your fault, assholes?”
Yuuri jumped and rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. “Ah, sorry. We didn’t mean to make Otabek jealous. We just thought-”
Otabek gaped as Viktor hid a laugh behind his hand, “What? No, I’m not-”
“Oi, don’t make fun of him!” Yuri shot up, standing next to Otabek. He blinked at Yuri’s sudden side switching, while Viktor only snickered more, seemingly wrapped up in his own private joke.
Yuuri didn’t reply to the punk’s challenge and eventually the teen deflated. He flopped back onto the couch, dragging Otabek with him. “How’s your choreography going along, Beka?”
Otabek took out his phone and showed a video of Yuuri performing what seemed to be the short program. “This is what I’m going to take back to my coach. We’re working on the free skate now.”
Yuri raised an eyebrow, scowling, “Most of it looks kinda stiff.” If Viktor had fucked Otabek over...
“It looks better when Beka performs it,” replied Viktor, more serious now that they were talking about his work. “There’s supposed to be a level of strain until the climax. It represents his training.”
“Huh. Then what’s with that graceful part near the beginning?”
Otabek’s head was on Yuri’s shoulder, so the blond couldn’t see his expression, but the poke on his chest was enough to make him blush. Otabek… wanted to represent him in his programme?
“Let me see it again,” he demanded, taking the phone, “…That’s from Allegro Appassionato, right? Why that one?”
Otabek looked up at him, “It’s the one that reminded me of when we were in the same class.”
Viktor grinned. “He has this tiny smile on his face when he’s immersed in the segment. It’s so cute!”
“Viktor!” scolded Yuuri, “How do you plan to keep bringing in clients if you make fun of all of them?!”
“Aw, but it’s just Yurio! I’m sure he’ll demand to watch before Beka leaves, anyway.” Yuri rolled his eyes, but he noticed that Otabek was pointedly looking away from him.
He leaned in to whisper in the other’s ear, “You’ll let me watch, right?”
Yuri smiled as Otabek nodded slowly. Perhaps, if he could spend more time with his best friend rather than the living embarrassments that were Viktor and Yuuri, this could turn out to be a break after all.
---
Yuri was back in the room he had taken the first time he was here. He was pretty sure that Pork Cutlet and Old Man had only gotten worse since he'd seen them off at the airport in Moscow. The nostalgia was getting to them. At least Otabek found them entertaining enough, although he'd always been a romantic behind his resting bitch face.
Although, perhaps Yuri shouldn't be so harsh on them. He'd spent about ten minutes lost in thought as he stood in the room, his suitcases untouched. He really had been an unpleasant child, hadn't he? The room was perfectly fine, yet his memories were so bitter. The buzz of chatter outside wasn't nearly as loud as he remembered and even when mostly empty, there was a familiar cosiness in here that brought him back to the day he'd first arrived in Hasetsu.
And yet…
“Yo, what’s the mat here for?” he called out, opening the door.
Otabek shot up, “Sorry, that’s mine. I’ll take it out.”
“Huh?” Viktor blinked at him, “Is there a problem with your room? Why did you-?”
“Yuuri said it was okay to pray in here.”
“Ohhh, I see-”
“Oh shit!” Yuri grabbed Otabek’s shoulders, looking concerned, “Do you need the room, then?! I’ll sleep in the living room if you like!”
Otabek’s eyes softened and he squeezed Yuri’s arm, “Don’t worry, Yura. The other Yuuri felt guilty because the dog jumped onto me while I was praying. I don’t need a separate room.”
“Oh… if you’re sure, then. Where is Makkachin, anyway?”
“He's out on a walk,” explained Viktor, “He’ll be happy to see you, Yurio!”
“Yuriooooo!”
Yuuri’s parents walked through, having closed the onsen for the day. The next few hours became a blur of reunions as Yuuri had apparently invited everyone around for the evening. Even Minami had turned up, whom Yuri had only heard of before in passing. He was aware that he was one of Japan’s biggest figure skaters, although he competed in ice dancing instead of singles. Yuri couldn’t help but marvel at how… small he was, even at twenty years.
Perhaps he was a little jealous at that.
‘Happy’ was an understatement regarding Makkachin’s response to seeing Yuri. Even as he was getting on in his years, he was still able to jump around like an insatiable puppy when ecstatic. His joy was only matched by the triplets, who had probably only become bigger terrors over the years, if Yuuko’s faint, but new wrinkles were anything to go by.
Of course, pork cutlet was the chosen meal for the night, even with Viktor trying to tease Yuuri about his breaking of tradition. Yuuri replied that simply getting Yuri to revisit Hasetsu was an achievement.
“You seem to be enjoying it, Yura,” said Otabek teasingly. Yuri gave a thumbs-up in response, rolling his eyes.
“How’s your food, Otabek?” asked Yuuri.
“It’s great,” replied Otabek, his face blank. “I don’t think I’ve ever had this much seafood in my life.”
“Well, if nothing else, you’ll be the fittest of the three,” chirped Viktor, “If I see any extra fat on my dear Yuris, they won’t be allowed anywhere near the ice for at least a week!.” Yuri was quick to flip off Viktor, before his hand was smacked down by a scolding Yuuko.
“Um… Otabek, sir…?” The triplets were looking up at the older man shyly. They flinched when Otabek quickly turned to look at them, although he did soften his face.
“What is it?”
A pause, then…
“Is it true you used to date JJ?!”
There was a sudden heave in the room, followed by desperate coughs. Yuuko and Otabek tried to help Yuri as he choked on his food, his face just as red from anger as it was from pain.
Viktor leaned over to Yuuri, “…Who’s JJ?”
Once Yuri could breathe, he grabbed Otabek’s shirt to prevent him from leaving as he glared over at the triplets, “What did you say?!”
“It’s the latest rumour in the skater fandom!” explained Lutz, “JJ was in an interview and he was talking about the skaters he used to train with.”
“But when he was asked about Otabek, he got all weird and quiet!” said Axel, “Like, he’s usually so confident! So, everyone thinks something must have happened between the two.”
“And the immediate assumption is romance?” Otabek looked bemused.
“Well… it’s a fandom,” shrugged Loop.
“How the hell are you so calm about this?!” demanded Yuri, “Aren’t you disgusted?!”
“…Not really,” answered Otabek, “It’s not true, but…”
“…But what?!” The triplets leaned forward in excitement.
“Are you saying something happened?!”
Before Otabek could respond, he was dragged to his feet by Yuri and pulled towards the room he was staying in. Yuri didn’t even look at him until they were both sitting down on the bed, facing each other.
“You ain’t saying shit until I know what happened first.” At a raised eyebrow, Yuri blushed and looked away, “You can’t trust those girls. They see themselves as leaders of the skater otaku or some shit. If you tell them anything, they’ll tell the rest of the world.”
“…Really?”
“Well, they’re not that bad. But mostly bad. Maybe. Just… shut up, okay?! Tell me what happened! You never said you knew JJ that well!”
Otabek shrugged. “I already told you, we trained together for a while. In both the States and Canada. We went to school together as well.”
Yuri blinked. “Well, yeah, but I thought you weren’t friends. Like, you didn’t really speak at all.”
“We didn’t. But I think he thought we were friends.”
Yuri snickered, “Well, obviously. He has to take what he can get.” He felt much more relaxed now, although honestly, he wasn’t sure why he’d gotten so worked up in the first place. “So, nothing happened?”
“No, not really. ...I’m not sure if he'd even remember it.”
Oh god. “What…?”
“…If I tell you we played ‘Spin the Bottle,’ can we leave it there?”
“Can we leave…?!” Spin the… did that mean they… Beka and JJ…?! “Leave it there?! Are you shitting me?!” A lump was growing in Yuri’s throat and he wasn’t sure why, but it pissed him off. And for the cause to be JJ of all people…! If he saw the man now, he would probably strangle the guy.
Otabek looked away, pink dusting his cheeks, “Everyone else was drinking and dragged me in. I thought that I’d be able to get away with moving the bottle away from me, but…”
“But…?”
“JJ grabbed it and pointed it directly at me when it was his turn. Said he wanted to be someone's 'first' and I was the only one left.”
“…I’m gonna kill him.”
Otabek chuckled and patted Yuri’s burning cheek, “It was years ago, you crazy punk. If it helps, I punched him in the face once I was over the shock.”
“Hmm…” Dammit, it shouldn’t have to help. Years ago, Yuri would’ve been happy to run with whatever emotion came through, but now, especially after such a trying season, he was becoming more aware of how much sense his actions made. It was moments like these, when he felt so… frustrated, angry, desperate… that were the worst. It was a reminder to how little control he felt nowadays.
“Yura…?” Otabek asked uncertainly, “What are you thinking about?”
Yuri couldn’t respond. Articulation had never been his strong point. He always fucked it up.
But as Otabek silently raised his arms, Yuri remembered why he cared so deeply about the friendship before him. He still didn’t fully understand what was so alike between them, but he was extremely grateful for the understanding it created.
Otabek’s arms were so strong and protective. Yuri wasn’t sure how he’d lived without them for so long.