Work Text:
Viktor doesn't pick up the phone right away. Yuuri frowns when he hears the voicemail kick in, and hangs up.
"Viktor..." he says, worried. He dials again.
"Yuuri," Viktor says, when he picks up. He sounds tired. "Congratulations. Sorry I didn't call earlier, I—"
"You were busy." Yuuri smiles. "I know. Congratulations, Viktor."
Viktor's quiet on the other end, then sighs.
"Viktor?" Yuuri fidgets anxiously with the hem of his shirt. "Are you okay?"
"...I'm sorry, Yuuri."
Yuuri blinks. "For what?"
"I disappointed you." Viktor's voice is hoarse. "I didn't win."
"Viktor," Yuuri says, shocked. He's never heard Viktor sound like this. In fact, he's never really ever heard Viktor sound unsure—except for maybe when Yuuri told him he was retiring. "Why would you think you disappointed me?"
Viktor laughs, but it sounds bitter. "Can you really say you didn't want me to win gold at my first competition back?"
"Of course—" Yuuri shakes his head. "Of course that would've been nice, but you still medaled. You'll still be able to compete in the European and World Championships. You didn't disappoint me. You didn't disappoint anyone."
"I got beat by a fifteen-year-old," Viktor says wryly.
Yuuri shrugs, even though he knows Viktor can't see him. "Well, Yurio is Yurio. I mean, I lost to him, and I spent all season preparing." He channels his inner Yurio and says, "You don't get to be more upset than I was." He smiles. "Unless you expected to surpass me so easily?"
"No!" Viktor says, sounding horrified, before he realizes Yuuri's joking. "Yuuri," he whines. "That was mean."
It worked, Yuuri thinks with an internal sigh of relief. Viktor already sounds more like himself.
But still, this...Yuuri knows Viktor cares about satisfying—exceeding—his fans' expectations, but they'd talked about the possibility of him losing already, and he had seemed okay with it, so this sudden change is worrying. Wanting to figure out what's wrong, Yuuri prompts, "You want to tell me what else is wrong?"
Silence.
"Viktor," Yuuri says firmly.
"I miss you," Viktor chokes out. His voice is thick with emotion, and Yuuri feels his own throat close up sympathetically.
"Oh," he says. "Oh, Viktor."
"I'm sorry," Viktor says in a rush, "I know it should be easier for me than you, you're the one suddenly without a coach. I just—" He cuts himself off with a frustrated noise.
Yuuri ignores the burning in his eyes. "I know. I miss you too." It doesn't feel like enough for the way he's feeling, bittersweet and longing and so full with love.
Viktor exhales shakily. "Yuuri," he says softly. "Tell me something good."
Yuuri pulls himself together. Viktor needs him. "I won gold?"
Viktor laughs. "I know, I—I should've called, I—"
Yuuri pushes past it. "It was nice, I guess."
"You guess?"
"Hmm," Yuuri hums thoughtfully. "Yeah. You want to know why it wasn't perfect?"
Viktor makes a curious noise. "Why?"
"There was a truly," Yuuri says mournfully, "truly unfortunate lack of medal-kissing."
There's a long pause, and then Viktor makes a little hiccuping noise, which swiftly devolves into giddy laughter. "What, you couldn't find anyone to do it for you?"
"Oh, I'm sure Minami would take me up on it," Yuuri laughs, and Viktor snorts gracelessly. "Did you know, he cried at the end of my free skate? Even I didn't cry."
"I did," Viktor says quietly, and the laughter freezes in Yuuri's throat. "I love you."
Yuuri loses the battle against his burning eyes, blinking back tears. "Viktor," he complains. "You can't just...say embarrassing things like that."
"Why," Viktor counters, with that not-quite-real laugh of his, "don't you love me?"
"Of course," Yuuri whispers. "Of course I do. How do you think I won gold?" Without his love for Viktor, his skating would be an empty husk compared to what it is now, and they both know it.
"Now who's being embarrassing!" Viktor sniffs, and Yuuri wishes desperately that he could hold him. It's only been a few days since they saw each other, Yuuri leaving for the Japanese National Championship and Viktor staying in Russia for his. But it feels like months, especially because...
"Hey, Viktor," Yuuri begins hesitantly.
"Hmm?"
"Happy birthday."
For a moment, he hears nothing. He's about to ask if Viktor heard him, when there's the sound of uneven breathing and quiet sniffles. "Don't cry," Yuuri says desperately.
"Promise me," Viktor says thickly, "promise me that when I get home you'll let me kiss your medal as many times as I want."
"I promise," Yuuri says solemnly. "Promise you'll let me do the same."
Viktor sniffs.
"Viktor," Yuuri says dangerously. "If I have to, I'll make you let me."
Viktor snorts. "I promise," he says, nearly inaudible.
"Good." Yuuri inhales. "Now. Tell me what I need to change for Worlds."
Viktor breathes out, slow. "On your triple axel, you should be more consistent about the difficulty of the entry. In fact," he says, warming up, his voice getting a little more sure, "if you're competing with Yurio, you should be upping the difficulty on a couple..."
Yuuri smiles and relaxes. They're fine. They're going to be just fine.