Chapter Text
DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN YURI!!! ON ICE OR ANYTHING ELSE AFFILIATED WITH THE ANIME.
He could not breathe.
He was first to perform in the Free Skate and he could not breathe.
‘Vicchan.
‘Oh my god, Vicchan.
‘Is he okay?
‘Why isn’t Mari calling me?
‘Did something even worse happen?
‘Is he… Was he—?’
His phone’s ringtone snapped him out of his thoughts and he turned his head so fast he almost had whiplash. His gut churned with unease as he read the characters on the screen and he sharply took in some air, but his clogged throat barely let any of it reach his lungs.
‘Neechan.’
He grabbed his phone and madly dashed for the men’s comfort room, only barely able to keep his balance on his blade guards. He ignored the concerned shouts of his coach. He needed to take this call. He needed to.
He did not bother to take a stall and locked the entrance to the comfort room instead. His legs shook as he slid down the door and landed heavily on his rear. Heart in his throat, he answered the call with a choked greeting in his native tongue.
“Yūri!” Mari’s voice greeted him, filled with relief.
He let himself hope.
“Is… Is he…?” He whispered.
“Vicchan’s fine! The vet came through for us. Here, listen.” He strained his ear, heard the phone crackle as it moved and heard his sister faintly call out, “Vicchan! Say ‘Hi’ to Yūri!”
He caught the familiar sound of his beloved pet’s bark and the knot in his chest finally loosened.
“I’m so glad,” he breathed out and blinked the tears out of his eyes.
He could breathe again.
“Oi, Yūri. Yūri? Are you still there?”
“Eh? Uh, yeah, I’m still here.”
“What? Why? Don’t you have a skating event right now? I’m actually surprised I got a hold of you.”
“Oh, uh…” He winced. “I’m… actually supposed to perform in a bit…”
“Ehh? You are? Then what are you still doing on the phone? Get out there!”
He winced again and curled into himself tighter. “I know! I just… I… couldn’t stop worrying about Vicchan… since yesterday…”
Mari cursed. “Sorry, Yūri. Maybe I shouldn’t have told you in the first place…”
“No, no! You did the right thing. I told you before remember, that I want to know immediately if anything happens back at home. You guys are more important than my… skating… after all…” He trailed off and paused to let his own words sink in. His eyes slowly widened in realisation and his lips parted in a soft, “Oh.”
“Yūri? Otōto? Are you okay?”
His sister’s concerned voice snapped him out of his thoughts. “Y-Yeah. Just… realised something.”
“Well, in that case, you should go out and skate! Vicchan’s fine now, so you have nothing to worry about anymore.”
“Right…”
“Do your best.”
The warm words caught him off-guard and he could almost hear that characteristic lazy smile of hers in them.
“Vicchan’s rooting for you, Yuuri. We all are.”
“… Thank… you…”
porkcutletbowls
y did Yuuri-chan run away omg
here4u
IDK! hes going on in a bit isn’t he?
fanboyingfromabroad
omg did he get nervous again???
standupright
YUURI-CHAN YOU CAN DO IT WE’RE CHEERING FOR YOU
He walked back to the rink in a daze. Something drifted in his head, in his heart, a thought or feeling he tried to grasp but it slipped away from him every time. His coach’s words floated over his head. He barely registered the fact that they called his name, barely felt himself step on the ice and glide across it to his starting point.
He barely felt his program’s music wash over him as he began to perform.
He let himself go.
The anxiety of Vicchan’s well-being overrode the pressure he felt as one of the six skaters in the Grand Prix Final. He knew he did not perform his Short Program properly because of it. On the other hand, would he have done any better without the added worry? No matter what happened, his anxiety would still be there, in one form or another. If not for Vicchan’s sake then he would have stressed himself out anyways with the pressure of the Finals.
How odd… that his pet meant more to him than his desire to succeed in his competitive career.
‘No, that’s… not right. It’s not that Vicchan means more to me; it’s that… they’re… intertwined?
‘What is this? This feeling…
‘I haven’t seen Vicchan or my hometown for five years. Distance and time… should have made my feelings fade, even a little…
‘But they haven’t.
‘I miss them so much. They’re family, of course, and I know I’m homesick but…
‘What does Vicchan mean to me?’
He executed a perfect combination jump. The crowd gasped and applauded but he did not hear them. For, as he landed, his eyes briefly locked gazes with icy blue that shone.
He felt himself blush as he looked away.
‘That’s right… Vicchan.’
He jumped a Triple Flip.
‘Viktor.
‘It’s always been you, hasn’t it?’
‘My feelings about Vicchan are undoubtedly intertwined with my feelings about skating. If Vicchan died, I know myself well enough…’
Another jump. This time, his hand briefly touched the ice but he kept going.
‘… to know that I wouldn’t have been able to skate this program at all.
‘No. It’s not just Vicchan.’
His body flowed into the Step Sequence.
The faces of his parents flashed through his mind and they wore smiles that gently stretched their full cheeks and reached their eyes to make crow’s feet. His sister, with her lazy grin and supportive gaze. Yū-chan, with her mother-hen tendencies and soft concern. Nishigori, with his boisterous laugh and obvious adoration for his wife and daughters. The triplet toddlers he has barely seen and even knows less about, but he is already unusually attached to and fond of them. Minako-sensei, a strict teacher with harsh lessons but who was also a loveable drunkard of an aunt. Coach Celestino, with his steadfast belief in him no matter how many times he has made a mistake. Phichit-kun and his optimism, his confidence in both himself and Yūri, his obsession with hamsters, his abnormal affection for his phone, and his addiction to SNS.
He jumped again and landed the Quadruple Salchow.
‘How could I have forgotten about them?
‘No. It’s not like I forgot. It’s just that I’ve spent so long looking ahead, looking beyond, towards Viktor, that I stopped seeing what was clearly in front of me.’
A Combination Spin.
‘If anything happened to any of them, I wouldn’t have been able to skate, no matter what anyone would have said to me.’
More jumps. He fell on the last one but got up quickly just as the music began the portion where he was to perform the Choreographed Sequence of the routine.
‘Shake it off. Don’t stop. The music’s still playing. They’re still watching you.
‘They’ve always been watching you. Supporting you. Lov—
‘Why are you only realising this now?’
Just a bit more. The sequence is almost finished. All that is left is—
‘What is it… this feeling?’
—one last Combination Spin.
‘Oh yeah. This is… Love.’
The music stopped. He was in his final pose as he heaved in lungfuls of air. He blinked as he felt his sweat cool on his skin, the temperature of the ice rink a familiar contrast to the heat within him.
‘Eh? The program’s over already?’
He straightened his posture and spread his arms out wide to the crowd that cheered louder than he expected them to.
‘I must’ve blanked out somewhere in the middle…’
He bowed to them while his eyes trailed over to his fellow skaters outside the barrier. His eyes lock with his again.
He felt the burn around his cheeks intensify but, for once, he did not look away. Instead, he let a small smile appear on his face, just for him.
‘Thank you,’ he tries to tell him with his eyes alone.
‘Everything’s always been because of you, hasn’t it?
‘Thank you… Even indirectly, you helped me realise that I am loved.
‘I think I’ve always known it was there, felt it, but I also think that, before now, I’ve also always taken it for granted.
‘So thank you… for helping me realise that.
‘Ah! Also…
‘Thank you for helping me think about how much I love them too.’
yuurisglasses
brb imma go cry and DIE
bbbeaisbbyuuris
THAT WAS SO BEAUTIFUL?? LIKE??? ICANT????
wigglewigglewiggle
IKR LIKE HE LOOKED SO RELAXED AND YEAH HE FLUBBED SOME OF HIS JUMPS BUT OMG I GOT SOO MANY FEELS HOW??? HES LITERALLY JUST UGH
He does not place on the podium.
He thinks fourth place is not so bad. At least he was not last.
Not to mention that the Bronze medallist, Jean-Jacques Leroy, only beat him by one point. Considering the Canadian’s illustrious background, his stellar career, and Yūri’s own performance in yesterday’s event, a one-point difference was impressive. Coupled with the fact that this was his first GPF, he was at least sure that he left an impression.
“You’ll medal in no time, Yūri!” Celestino consoled him. “Especially if you keep performing the way you did today. That score you got is a well-deserved Personal Best!”
Hisashi Morooka, the commentator covering the GPF event for Japan, congratulated him as well and even said as much. He left with the promise of an interview and a few words of encouragement, both filled with enthusiasm.
No one mentioned the fact that he probably would have medalled had he not spectacularly botched his SP. Left unsaid but obvious. Yūri felt bad about it but it was not as if his coach was unaware of his mental weakness. Although, his mental state yesterday was a mere consolation at best and an excuse at worst, and he would rather avoid making excuses for his lacklustre showing. Despite the fact that his score on his Free Skate today was a Personal Best, the moment he saw it he felt unsatisfied. There were still jumps he could have landed better (or landed at all) and numerous other elements he felt he could have improved on.
He was not an idiot. He knew that skating with the thought of the people in his life had improved his performance but was that all? Was that the highest score he could get when he thought of the people who have supported him throughout his career? Who did everything they could just so that he could achieve his dream of skating on the same ice as his idol? Of competing against him?
He surprised himself with his thoughts. It confused him and he felt the faintest stir of unease in his heart. However, there was one thing he could not deny, and it was that their support gave him the courage to power through. Without them, he would not have fulfilled his dream. The least he could do was dedicate his skating to them.
The most he could do was win gold to show that their support of him was not in vain.
Another surprising thought.
Until now, he never let himself freely think that he could win gold. It was an impossible dream anyways, what with the competition.
However… he never really skated with the thought that he would lose anyways…
‘And now I’m in fourth place, just one point away from making it to the podium… How humbling,’ he smiled sardonically. ‘Am I really going to be satisfied with this?’
His family flashed through his mind again. His friends. His hometown. His fans both in and out of Japan.
‘I never allowed myself to think about how many people counted on me because I thought that I wouldn’t be able to handle the pressure if I did.
‘Even if I tell myself that, I still thought about it anyways. I spent whatever mental strength I had on fighting with myself when I should have used it to focus on my programs… on doing whatever I could to make them proud of me.
‘Am I really supposed to be satisfied with this?’
Family. Friends.
Love.
‘I’m not.’
He gripped the strap of his backpack and the handle of his suitcase tighter.
‘Japan Nationals are coming up. After that is the Four Continents Championship and then… Worlds.
‘If I want to show everyone that they weren’t wrong in placing their faith and love in me, then I have to make it there.’
His whole body shivered and he felt his palms grow sweaty. His lips wobbled.
‘Ahh… there it is. The pressure is even worse now.
‘What do I do?’
He took a deep, shaky breath and remembered how he performed his Free Skate. Recalled the sudden blankness in the middle of the program and let thoughts of home soothe his mind.
‘I’ve achieved my dream. I got to skate on the same ice as Viktor Nikiforov.
‘I love skating. I want to keep going. I don’t want to end this… not yet.
‘So I need a new goal to strive towards.
‘Why do I skate now?’
The answer, unexpectedly, came easily.
‘For those who have supported me until now… I’ll do my best to win gold.’
He still was not satisfied but now he felt… content, in a way he had not before. His thoughts had eased and he felt he could look forward to the future now.
“Yūri, I need to take this call, but I’ll make it quick. Do you mind waiting for a bit?”
“It’s no problem, Coach.”
He stood nearby his coach and simply fiddled with the strap of his backpack when an overly familiar voice called out his name.
“Yūri!”
His heart stopped as he recognised the voice and, just as abruptly, restarted.
“Yūri Katsuki!”
He never dreamed him to say his name, never dared to think he would acknowledge him unless he won. What was astonishing was that he had… forgotten about him for a while. The realisation of this simultaneously froze and shocked him. He turned around, slightly afraid to hope that he called his name.
re-sPWNED
Congrats to our boy @kingjjleroy for getting bronze at this year’s #GrandPrixFinal!!
yuurikatsukiisaGODontheice
Still think #YuuriKatsuki deserves that medal…
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earnestlyloveseverythingRussian
OUR SMOL SALTY RUSSIAN PUNK/FAIRY WON GOLD AT THE #JuniorGPF!! THAT GIVES RUSSIA GOLDS IN BOTH THE JUNIOR AND SENIOR DIVISION!!! DAVAI!!!!
Yuri Plisetsky sat on the edge of his seat throughout the entirety of Yūri Katsuki’s Free Skate. He knew, from the moment that the Japanese skater got into position, that this performance would be completely different from yesterday’s disappointment. The music started and the skater flowed with it.
Katsuki was different from the other skaters in the GPF or even the whole GP Series. Out of every skater Yuri knew, he was the only one whose PCS constantly eclipsed his TES. Not even his rinkmate, the Living Legend Viktor Nikiforov, could claim as much. Remarkable, really, as failed technical elements usually led to a lower performance score.
It was the same story in this Free Skate but at the same time, it was different. He actually nailed most of his technical elements. Even so, the true appeal of Katsuki’s skating laid in his performance components and that was as good—no. It was not as good this time, it was even better if that were somehow possible.
By the end of the performance, Yuri could feel his heart pound even harder in his chest, as if he was the one who had just skated, and he felt overcome with the urge to skate more.
Just what was this guy?
‘Yūri Katsuki,’ Yuri thought to himself as the skater bowed to the audience. ‘He screws up his jumps but his step sequences grabs your heart.
‘I want to see him skate without mistakes.’
The thought was uncharacteristic and it stunned him, but he could not deny the appeal it held.
‘I wonder what kind of guy he is…’ He continued as Katsuki skated to the Kiss & Cry. They announced his score and Yuri was not surprised to hear that it was a Personal Best.
Katsuki’s reaction interested him, though. He could not see all that well from his vantage point but from what he could make out, he had his lips pursed and his eyebrows furrowed.
He looked unhappy. As if he knew, he could have done better.
Yuri would know. He saw that look in the mirror enough times to be familiar with it.
‘Were they…?’
Before he could make out the emotions that roiled within him and his increasingly chaotic thoughts, Katsuki left the rink side and with him, he took all the interest Yuri held for the event.
When they announced the next skater to show their program, Yuri clicked his tongue in annoyance. It was the Italian and from what he could remember from yesterday, his skating was nothing special. In fact, none of the other skaters could claim to hold the same appeal as Katsuki. He reclined in his seat and shifted to a more comfortable position so he could scroll through his SNS accounts. Maybe if he found nothing interesting online he could bring himself to watch Viktor’s program, though that might make him fall asleep seeing as he’s seen that who knows how many times at this point.
He confidently thought that the older skater who shared his name would place third at least.
YuriPfc_YuriAngels
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KYAAAAA!! CONGRATS YURATCHKA!
kittykatlover
He’s so beautiful I can’t even <3 <3 <3
bubblybutt
and a total BADASS #RusssianPunk
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headofthefairycheersquad
get u a boi dat can do both σ(≧ε≦ｏ)
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yuri-plisetsky
Looking forward to beating this year’s podium winners when I make my senior debut @v-nikiforov @christophe-gc #YuriKatsuki
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kermitmemereactor
did… did Yuri Plisetsky just indirectly state that Yuri Katsuki deserves to be on the podium instead of Leroy?
…
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soDONEwithurshit
of course you’d end with a kermit meme -_-
Viktor watched in mild amusement and genuine concern as little Yuri seethed. He had been like that ever since the results for the Senior Men’s Singles came out and the older Russian, for the life of him, could not figure out why. Oh, well. Straightforward questions usually worked best in situations like these.
“What’s got your tiny claws out, little Yuri?”
Yuri directed a scathing look towards him to which he merely gave a passive smile in return. He waited for a bit and counted, ‘Three, two, one…’
“THAT FUCKER J.J.!”
‘There we go.’ Then, the teen’s words registered in his head. “J.J.? Hmm… who was that again…? Ah! He’s the Bronze medallist, right?” Privately, he was glad they spoke in Russian because that was quite a foul word Yuri used.
Yuri continued to glare at him. “The undeserving Bronze medallist. The shithead and Katsuki only had a fucking one-point difference between them. What the fuck. That’s not a win, he doesn’t deserve that medal, hell Katsuki scored way higher in the Free Skate and he performed first. Fucking judges—”
“Yuri Plisetsky,” Viktor cut in uncharacteristically sharp. “As amusing as it is to see you defend a skater you don’t even know just because you share the same name, do not speak of the judges in such a way. They can understand you, in case you forgot that you’re in Sochi. You know how Yakov gets when you’re not on your best behaviour.”
He scowled. “You know it’s true. Everyone knows the first skater is always judged the harshest because they’re used as a measuring stick for the others’ scores.”
“I do not know anything,” the older Russian replied amicably. “I only trust that the judges know what they’re doing. You should too. After all, Katsuki fell on two of his jumps so that’s two points deducted.”
“His PCS was higher than the fucker’s.”
“His TES was lower, too.”
“One point.”
Viktor shook his head and decided to stay silent as it dawned on him that his tiny rink mate would not let go of this anytime soon. He let the other stew in his thoughts as his own mind brought up Katsuki’s surprisingly delightful Free Skate. Of course, he did not nail all of his jumps, but no one could deny the beauty of his spins, the elegance of his technique, and the almost tangible emotions he had exuded. Viktor knew via SNS that the Japanese representative was famous for his unique sense of rhythm, which translated onto the ice and into his performances. He could now see what they meant. Truly, there was something remarkable about his skating, something different and indescribable that thrilled those who watched him.
Speaking of step sequences…
“Yuri,” he began in English as they left the stadium through the exit doors and entered the lobby. “About your free performance, the step sequence could use more—”
“I won, so who cares?” Yuri immediately interjected and stopped walking, which caused Viktor to halt with him in confusion. The teen rolled his eyes as a tiny flush of embarrassment made its way to his cheeks. He then looked towards a black-haired male with glasses who stood beside a man in a tailored suit. The former absentmindedly fiddled with the strap of his backpack while the latter spoke animatedly into the phone he had held up to his ear.
Viktor smiled at him amusedly. “Oh? Does little Yura have a crush?”
“Shut up, old man, and no, I don’t,” he hissed. “I just don’t want you critiquing my technique when we’re within earshot of the skater with arguably the best step sequences, okay.”
The older skater’s eyes widened as he looked around excitedly. “Katsuki, yes? Where is he?”
The blond looked at him as if he were an idiot. To be fair, the teen believed it to be true. “That’s Katsuki.”
He turned to look at the black-haired male again and took in the bangs that messily covered his forehead and the brown eyes hidden behind blue-framed glasses. If he looked hard enough, he was sure those eyes were same ones that had looked at him at the end of his program, and that those were the same lips that had given him such a beatific smile. Viktor’s mouth promptly dropped open as he stage-whispered in awe, “He looks so different.” The transformation was admirable, really.
Yuri stood still for a moment before he nodded mutely in agreement.
Just then, a brilliant idea came to Viktor.
“Let’s ask him what he thinks about your step sequences!” He said in a cheery voice that brooked no argument and began to drag the younger skater with him, towards Katsuki.
“Ha? What? No! Let go of me!”
Viktor ignored him, of course. “Yūri!” He called out, as though they were the closest of friends. Then he decided that the other might assume he called out to the Russian Yuri and rectified his greeting immediately. “Yūri Katsuki!”
Although, it was apparently unnecessary, as Katsuki stiffened the moment he heard his name. Slowly, he turned to face the rapidly approaching Russians, eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights and face slack with utter bewilderment.
“Viktor,” Yuri snarled, “let go of me or else.”
He ignored him again. “Hi, Yūri! Viktor Nikiforov,” he introduced himself. “Do you have time for a quick question…?”
Katsuki’s lips parted softly as the wide-eyed look of confusion stayed on his face. He glanced at the man in the suit with uncertainty but the other was still busy with his call. In the end, he hesitantly nodded.
“My rinkmate here,” he pulled Yuri forward a bit, which caused the teen to spit out a curse in Russian, “wants to improve his the step sequence of his FS, and since your step sequences are absolutely stunning, I thought he should ask you for advice. Do you mind?”
Katsuki blushed darkly and his mouth opened and closed multiple times. He was obviously flustered and uncomfortable with the situation.
Yuri could sympathise. He hated it too, which was why he decided to take pity on the other, as he was obviously unused to his rink mate’s stupidity. “Of course he minds, you idiot! You can’t just walk up to someone like that and ask a question out of nowhere!”
“But I asked nicely!”
“That doesn’t matter—”
“It’s fine,” Katsuki finally spoke up, though his voice was dry and rough. He coughed to clear it and when the Russians returned their gazes to him, he shifted in place uncomfortably.
“Oh! So you can talk,” Viktor commented with an easy grin. “I was beginning to think you were mute or something.”
When Katsuki flinched, Yuri (mentally) swore, outwardly rolled his eyes, and jabbed an elbow into the idiot’s rib cage. Said idiot winced at the act and sent him a cold smile complete with a frosty glare. The blond did not care, however, especially when he saw the other Yuri look like he was torn between abject humiliation and unbelievable amusement.
“Not… mute, more speechless, I guess?” He tentatively offered. “It’s not like I get approached by a Living Legend or the Junior GPF gold medallist every day, you know.” He cracked a small, shy smile at that. “Yuri Plisetsky, right? Your Free Skate was impressive. I couldn’t land half those jumps as cleanly as you did when I was your age.”
Yuri smirked and preened at the praise. He did not know why, but Katsuki paid attention to him first. Usually, and most especially when he was around Viktor, well-wishers would always address the older skaters around him instead of him. This was a nice change.
Viktor, on the other hand, pouted slightly. He was unused to Katsuki’s reaction and uncertain on how he should proceed.
“But Yūri, what do you think of his step sequences?” He wheedled.
Katsuki’s gaze remained on Yuri as he thought the question over. He finally settled with, “It was okay.”
“Just okay?” Yuri pressed, curious now, as to what the other really thought.
He nodded slowly. “You can do better.”
A flash of something burned through the teen and before he knew it—
“Teach me,” he demanded.
“Eh?”
“Teach me how I can do better,” he insisted. “Tomorrow. Before the Gala. Be at the practice rink at… at one in the afternoon. Don’t be late.” He turned and walked away towards his coach whom he just spotted.
Yūri stared after him as he spluttered out a protest but knew, intuitively, that it was a lost cause. The younger Yuri looked stubborn about his demand and he could only sigh in part frustration and part resignation.
Then, he stiffened. The younger skater left, which meant… that he left him alone with…
He hoped that the whimper he heard was in his head and not aloud, as he turned around and finally made eye contact with Viktor Nikiforov.
“Hi,” he squeaked.
Viktor looked surprised but recovered quickly enough to give a wide smile in return. “Hi~!”
“I… umm… is he—” he gestured in the direction the blond left in. “Is he always like that?”
“To be honest? No,” he chuckled lightly. “I’ve never seen him demand another skater teach him. In fact, the only other skater I know for sure he asked help from was…” He thought hard about it and an almost-forgotten memory surfaced to the forefront of his mind, and he was promptly surprised. ‘Me. That time when he made a bet with me and asked me to choreograph a program for his senior debut,’ he continued privately. At that, he proceeded to gaze at Katsuki thoughtfully.
The prolonged scrutiny from those ice-blue eyes caused Yūri to fidget. He could feel his anxiety build up and desperately sought a release from the searching look that entrapped him. “W-What‘s wrong?”
Viktor pressed a finger to his mouth, gave an enigmatic smile, and finally answered, “Nothing. It’s just that…” He tilted his head. “It’s been a while since I’ve been this surprised. I think I’ll be joining you and little Yura tomorrow.” He began to walk towards his coach before he stopped and turned, just to throw a wink over his shoulder. “See you tomorrow, Yūri!”
Yūri screamed internally.
phichit+chu
Congrats to my best friend, #YuriKatsuki for placing fourth in the Sochi GPF!!! (ﾉ^ヮ^)ﾉ*:・ﾟ✧
Yūri screamed into his pillow.
Phichit’s laugh sounded tinny and obnoxious from the minuscule speakers of his phone, propped up on the bed’s headboard with the FaceTime function up. "I don’t know if I should pity you, be jealous of you, or proud.”
Yūri rested his chin on his pillow, cheeks red with shame and puffed up. “Pity me,” he mumbled in despair. “Please. I need validation that I live an utterly miserable existence.”
"Woah, chill on the English, I don’t have your years of experience, you know. But, well, I got what you mean. In that case, I’m so proud, Yūri!” He cheered. “You managed to talk to the Viktor Nikiforov. Do you know how cool that is?"
“Yes. But you’re completely ignoring the fact that I made a complete idiot of myself,” he moaned and smothered his face back into his pillow in an attempt to die.
“I don’t think so,” Phichit replied optimistically. “I mean, if he wants to see you again tomorrow, it couldn’t have been that bad, right?”
He lifted his head again and thought about it. “I… guess not? That could only be a good thing, right?” He asked tentatively.
“Exactly! Uwah, I’m so happy for you, Yūri! You didn’t just get into the Grand Prix Final, you managed to impress both the Junior and Senior Grand Prix gold medallists with your skating while you were at it! And Yuri Plisetsky wants you to teach him! The Russian Punk-slash-Fairy! Not to mention that you finally got to talk to your idol and it sounds like he admires your step sequences too! ”
Yūri could not help but let his smile grow with every word his friend spoke. “I guess that means I did pretty good for my first GPF, huh?” He concurred happily.
“Oh, oh, oh! Not to mention that you were just one point away from making it to the podium. You practically broke all Figure Skating SNS,” Phichit continued cheerily.
He paled. “What?”
“Oh, I totally forgot to mention this, sorry! But a lot of your fans are saying that you were underscored and that you deserved that bronze medal, not J.J.”
He groaned and let his head fall back into his pillow. “I didn’t want the media to get into a frenzy. And I really don’t want J.J. to hear about this. I honestly think he deserves that medal.”
It was a lucky thing that the Thai skater was proficient in muffled-Yūri speech. “I can do damage control in the meantime,” he offered. “But there’s only so much I can do. You might wanna give a statement or something to calm them down. Some of your fans are scary overprotective of you, y’know?”
Yūri lifted his head once more. “Can you help me with that?” He hesitantly requested. “You know I’m not good at that kind of stuff.”
“Sure, I don’t mind! That’s what friends are for, right?”
He smiled, filled with warmth. “Right.”
“In return, you help me with my programs once you come back! Thailand Nationals are coming up and I wanna give my homeland my best performances yet.”
“Sure thing!” He laughed. “Thanks again, Phichit-kun.”
“No problem. But, Yūri, can I ask you something?” Phichit fumbled with his phone a bit and Yūri caught a glimpse of one of his hamsters before the screen righted itself.
“Yeah?”
“What’re you planning on teaching Plisetsky? I mean, I get that he asked you to help him with his step sequences, but do you even know how?”
“… Crap.”
cannotflirttosavelife
So guys… I work part-time at an ice skating rink in Sochi… and guess who reserved the rink for an entire afternoon... （＊〇□〇）……！
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serenademetosleep
*incoherent screaming*
SergeantNoChill
*incoherent pterodactyl noises*
justGLITCHmeup
is that…???
cannotflirttosavelife
Viktor Nikiforov, Yuri Plisetsky, AND Yuri Katsuki?
Yup
rusteeze
omg
omgomgomgomgoMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMG
OMG!!!
cannotflirttosavelife
I’m not sure but I think they’re training together…?
obstinantlyobtuse
wtf since when were they friends??? or rink mates for that matter???