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An Unlikely Comfort

Summary:

In which, before the banquet, Yuuri cries uncontrollably in his hotel room over his failures and the death of his Vicchan. Victor Nikiforov just happens to overhear his devastating cries from the room next door.

This story happens in between when Victor asks Yuuri if he wants a commemorative photo and the banquet.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Chapter 1: In which, Yuuri is sad.

Summary:

hi so

idk what I am doing and my chapters are too short and yeah.
sorry for my bad writing in advance, I'm a poet by nature.

Chapter Text

The large, silver elevator door opens and Yuuri sighs as he walks into the small space.  He rolls in his luggage and stands in the corner of the elevator, feeling blessed he is alone.  Yuuri pushes the button for his floor and quickly presses the button to close the elevator doors, not wanting anyone to see him in his current state.  Yuuri’s eyes are sore.  He knows they have to be red from all the tears he shed earlier.   His hair is probably a mess and he doesn’t even want to know the state of his rumpled clothing.  

The elevator jerks and Yuuri looks up.  He winces.  The walls around him are a shiny silver, he can see his reflection everywhere.  Closing his eyes, Yuuri does not want to see himself.  Not now, not while feeling like this, at the cusp of a pending anxiety attack.  

Why couldn’t I have done better?  Yuuri thinks, He didn’t even know I was a skater.  I am such a failure.  I've spent all this time waiting to skate on the same ice as Victor, and now...  Yuuri sighs.  

He lets go of the handle of his luggage and uses his arms to, if at all possible, squeeze himself smaller.  He sighs again when it doesn’t work.  The elevator buzzes, signaling his floor.  As the doors open, Yuuri grabs his luggage handle, his feet dragging behind him as he walks forward the few steps to his hotel room door.  Yuuri is grateful that Celestino decided to stop by the bar before getting ready to attend the banquet.  Yuuri needs to be alone.  He needs to cry.  He just wants to sleep and hide and...

I wonder if Celestino will make me attend the banquet.   I just want to be alone.  I want to forget this ever happened.  I was stupid to think I could do better than this.  He sighs again, reaching into his back pocket to grab his keycard.  Maybe I should retire after this season.  I didn’t even get to see Vicchan before…

Yuuri can feel his face getting warm, his eyes starting to burn.  Just moments away from losing his composure, again and Yuuri berates himself for not being able to make it to his hotel room before breaking down.  This time, Yuuri doesn't want to be interrupted or yelled at while he cried, like at the rink.  Yuuri just wants to be alone, he just wants to cry.  

Failure. I’m such a failure.  Yuuri's eyes fill with tears, not yet falling.  His vision blurs.  I’m so sorry, Vicchan.

Yuuri unlocks his hotel room door and rushes into his room, almost tripping over his luggage.  As the door closes, he falls to his knees and lets out a loud sob.  Covering his face with his hands, he gives into his tears.  Yuuri needs this.  He always feels better after crying, but Yuuri knows he needs time to heal after realizing he will never see his Vicchan again. Not to mention, bearing the burden of failing the Grand Prix Finale.  

This is the worst day of my life, Yuuri continues to sob.  The bruises that are forming on his body hurt already, but Yuuri know his heart hurts the most.

Chapter 2: In which, Victor is confused.

Summary:

Victor is confused.

Notes:

this fic is alternatively titled "idk what i'm doing"

Chapter Text

Victor had tried to catch the hotel elevator as it went up, but the doors had closed too soon.  Victor sighs, confused.  

He was a fan, right?  That skater from the final...  He had been staring at me.  Why didn’t he want a photo?   The elevator buzzes and the door opens.  Victor walks in and presses the button to his floor.  Just as the elevator door began to close, someone in the lobby shouts, “Wait!”  Victor quickly reaches out to catch the elevator door as a woman rushes forward, her arms full of multi-colored shopping bags.

“Do you need any help with those?”  Victor asks, showing his million dollar smile.  

“Oh, no.  No thanks.  I’m fine.”  The woman laughs nervously, brushing her brown hair behind her ear.  She stares at the floor.  The elevator doors close.

“What floor did you need?”

“Nine.”  Victor presses the number for her.  She smiles, “Thank you.”  Victor winks at her. The woman blushes.

The slow moving elevator leaves Victor alone to his thoughts, and he almost forgets there is anyone in the elevator with him. The elevator door opens on floor nine and the woman exits the elevator quickly.  She seems to be trying her best to avoid Victor’s gaze.   As she walks away from the elevator, Victor hears her say to herself, “Oh my god, that was Vict-”  The elevator doors close.

I knew she was a fan, Victor thinks. Maybe I should have asked if she wanted an autograph?   Victor sighs to himself, smile fading away.  When the elevator reaches his floor, Victor exits with a frown.  He can feel the weight of the gold medal around his neck, heavy.  It's almost too heavy for Victor to bear.  

Another gold… Victor sighs.   What can I do next year to surprise everyone?  Victor hums to himself, finger poised on his lips.  Victor lifts up his other hand to run it through his hair, feeling his age in his bones.  Is it really thinning that bad?  The reporters are already asking if I have plans to retire.

Approaching his hotel room, Victor suddenly stops. What is that noise?  That’s strange.  He hears something muffled, as if on the other side of a door.  Victor shakes his head to clear his thoughts.  Of course, he needs to prepare for the stupid banquet tonight and make a elegant appearance for his supporters and sponsors.  Victor grits his teeth.

Victor shuffles his feet in the hallway.  Taking out his keycard, he leans his head against the door and sighs.  He wants...no, needs a break, a vacation.  If it wasn’t his coach Yakov yelling at him to change or fix something in his program, Yura was yelling at him to critique his jumps or give him tips on his step sequences. 

Victor reaches into his pocket to remove the hotel keycard from his wallet.  He swipes the card across the front of the door and watches as the lights flash green.  Victor opens the door and walks into his room.  The noise from earlier is louder now, the sounds finally registering in his mind as the cries and sobs of someone.  Someone in the room right next to his, completely heartbroken and sobbing uncontrollably.  Victor sighs in empathy, feeling his own sadness.  Victor knows he is terrible at consoling others, but he can’t stand to listen to someone in pain.  Victor wonders if he could help.  

“Hello?” Victor asks, hoping his voice would go through the wall between the two rooms.

Chapter 3: In which, Victor comforts Yuuri.

Summary:

In which, they converse for the first time...

...albeit behind a wall and without knowing who they are conversing with.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Yuuri continues sobbing, alone on the floor.  His crying sounds and hiccups seem to echo around him in the small hotel room.  I am such a failure.  I am so pathetic.  Vicchan…  Yuuri cries harder.  He will never see Vicchan again.  Vicchan, his best friend, his companion.  His loyal friend who would sneak out of the onsen to wait for him at the rink even when Yuuri was miles away in Detroit.  Vicchan, who would yip in happiness at Yuuri's voice when he called his parents on Skype.  I’m so sorry, so sorry, Vicchan.  Please forgive me.  I should have been there for you I-- 

“Hello?”  A voice interrupting his thoughts has Yuuri yelping and startles him out of his heavy sobs.  His tears still falling heavily as he hears the voice speak again.  “I’m sorry, did I scare you?  Are you okay?”  This voice.  This calming, soothing voice, slightly muffled through the wall next to him.  Someone is speaking to him, in English, through the wall.  

“H- he... hello?”  Yuuri responds back.  Another storm of tears hit him as he realizes how pathetic he sounds. He must be annoying the other hotel guests with his grief.  I'm so stupid, I'm disturbing people, Yuuri thinks.   “I...I’m sorry, I’ll t-try to… be quiet.”  Yuuri whimpers out.  The voice sighs in sympathy.  

“Oh, my dear.  Are you okay?”  

Yuuri vaguely realizes that the voice is speaking with an accent.  Russian?  Like Victor…  Yuuri’s sobs start up again.  I was on the same ice as Victor, but I failed.  Victor didn’t…

“Oh, no.  Please, I…” The voice sounds so soothing and concerned.  Yuuri really likes listening to this voice.  “Just… just tell me if you are okay.”  

“Y-yeah, I’m…”  Yuuri’s voice catches on a sob,  “I…”  Yuuri breathes out slowly.  “I had a bad day.”

“I… I don’t know what to do when someone cries around me,” the voice shares, slightly unsure.  The voice sounds calm, although hesitant.  “Shhh…  It will be okay.”

“Yeah...”  Yuuri wipes the tears dripping off of his face.  Yuuri closes his eyes and takes in a big breath of air through his nose.  He lets the breath out of his mouth, slowly, extending the exhale to calm himself.  His eyes are still leaking tears down his face.  “I made a fool of myself in front of everyone.  I…”  Yuuri sniffles, a tear slowly falling to soak into the fabric of his blue track sweatshirt.  “...and my dog...”

The voice hums back, “...your dog?”  

Yuuri sighs.  “Yeah, my dog… she passed away.  I just found out before skating…”  Yuuri tries again to explain.  “I fell a bunch of times duri--”

The voice began panicking, “Oh, are you hurt?  Do you need hel--?”

“No, no.  I just…"  Yuuri interrupts, hiccuping through his tears.  "I didn’t get to see her before she...”

The voice shushes him again.  “Shhh… I’m so sorry.  I’m sure your dog loved you very much.”

Yuuri laughs as tears kept falling.  “Yeah, she was a good dog.  The best dog.”   

“I don’t even want to think about my dog dying," the voice replies.  

“You have a dog?”  Yuuri smiles and reaches up, wiping away the tear falling from his left eye.  

The voice makes a sound of affection.  “Yes, I do.   He's a poodle.  Would you like me to tell you about him?  It might help you feel better.”  

Yuuri sniffles, rubbing his nose.  “Yeah…Yes.  I would like that.”

“He's my best friend.  When I’m home with him, he loves to cuddle.  He's fluffy and he is very affectionate."  The voice laughs.  "I live in a small apartment, but I take him for walks all the time.  He loves his walks, especially when we're in St. Petersburg.  He loves the water and chasing the seagulls.”  Yuuri grins, remembering Vicchan running on the beach, cuddling with Vicchan, Vicchan's sloppy dog kisses.  The voice continues, “There was one time he ran straight into the water after a seagull.  He was so happy and just splashed around in the water.  He needed a bath after that, but I couldn't be mad at him for being so adorable.”  The voice trails off and then starts again, “I miss him.  He’s in Russia now, but I’ll get to see him soon before the next competition.”   

Yuuri takes in another deep breath through his nose and lets it out slowly.  “Thank you.  Thanks...I feel a little better.”  

“Do you want to see a picture of him?” The voice asks, excited.

Yuuri clears his throat and wipes his eyes.  “Umm, yeah, sure.”

The voice is gone.  The room quiet. Yuuri hears a light knock on the door.  Yuuri gets up from the floor, adjusting his glasses.  He walks over to the door, still groggy from crying so much.  Yuuri places a still shaky had on the doorknob and opens the door.  Victor Nikiforov is standing in front of him, a huge grin on his face.  

Yuuri gasps. “Vi... Victor?!?” Victor smiles even wider, winking at Yuuri, holding out a phone displaying an adorable photo of Makkachin.  

"Hello, I'm Victor.  This is Ma--"

Yuuri's brain is processing the events from the last 15 minutes at a frantic pace.  He has been crying in front of Victor.  Victor Nikiforov.  He's been talking with Victor Nikiforov this whole time.  Yuuri stares at Victor in shock.  "That's..."  Yuuri interrupts.  "Is that Makkachin?" 

Victor laughs.  "Yes, his name is Makkachin!  You know of him?"

"Ummm..."  Yuuri mumbles, staring.  "He's... um..." He's talking with Victor Nikiforov.  "...c-cute..." 

 

Yuuri slams the door in Victor's face.

Notes:

sorry not sorry victor. (I strongly believe yuuri is a big enough fan that he would know makkachin's name already.)

Chapter 4: In which, Victor is happy.

Summary:

In which, Victor is happy.

Notes:

I edited the tenses of the previous chapters to be in the present. Hopefully, this flows better. idk why I decided to use so many thought bubbles in this fic, but whatever. I'm a poet, not a fanfic writer most of the time, haha.

I hope you enjoy!

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Victor is confused but happy.  He doesn’t understand how this happened.  Before the banquet, Victor was positive, absolutely positive, that Katsuki Yuuri hated his guts.  Katsuki Yuuri had walked away from him and slammed a door in his face.  Both of these incidents have occurred within the last 24 hours.

But Yuuri, now in the glory of 16 glasses of champagne, is not who Victor expected.  Victor Nikiforov has finally realized his miscalculations.  Because Yuuri is just... Yuuri. 

Yuuri, the skater who cried alone in his hotel room.  Yuuri, the one who slammed a door in his face after Victor’s terrible effort to console him.  Yuuri, the best skater from Japan, who refused to give up on the Grand Prix Final.  Yuuri, who fell and stood back up again and again, while grieving for his best friend on the ice.  Victor is so amazed by Yuuri’s strength.  He stares at him in fascination.  Victor watches Yuuri dance, giggle, burp, and make music with his body.  Victor is dragged onto the dance floor by Yuuri after making eye contact and remains mesmerized by this wonderful man.  Victor dances with Yuuri, though Victor’s own dancing skills are lacking, Yuuri compensates for him, all fluid movements and with the grace of a swan, after too many glasses of champagne.

Yuuri hiccups, and Victor is quite amazed by Yuuri's alcohol tolerance levels.  With one hand wound around his shoulder from behind, and the other lightly touching Yuuri’s waist, Victor supports Yuuri's weight while beaming at him in adoration.  Yuuri is alcohol-heavy and relaxed.  He tells Victor about his family and the hot springs, invites Victor to visit his family.  Victor can't take his eyes off him.  

Victor can still see the grief in Yuuri's eyes, but Yuuri smiles anyway.

 

The banquet this year is the best it's ever been, Victor thinks.

It's all Victor and Yuuri in laughter and hugs.

It's Yuuri demanding, “Be my coach, Victor!”

It's life and love, when Yuuri smiles.  

It's all Victor’s ever wanted.

Notes:

I didn't want to write the whole banquet scene, so I hope this is okay (even though it is short).

 

I wrote this because I was conflicted by the banquet scene, in which Victor falls in love with Yuuri when he is not-Yuuri. In this fic, I wanted to show that Victor falls in love with every-Yuuri. Thank you for reading!

Notes:

this is a yoi secret valentine's gift to jessm
happy valentine's day!
you can find me here
*runs away*