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kaichan24 · 4 years

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Favorite Royalty AUs

1. Taking Back the Reigns. King Victor Nikiforov was King in name only. A puppet of Parliament - alone, orphaned, and ostrazcized, he floundered through life with no direction and no one to share it with.

With his country teetering on the brink of WWIII, Victor must shed his playboy image and battle a generations-old political party to seize his rightful power from a corrupt Parliament. Finding himself in a morass of treason, violence and dirty secrets,Victor comes to terms with the past and finds a way forward.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/15640674/chapters/36323028

2. The Dragon Prince and the Winter Swan. Yuuri Stark is a noble son of the north, returning to Winterfell in disgrace after the latest disappointment in his checkered tourney career. He hasn't given up his dream of becoming a knight, but maybe it's time to find himself a new path, settling down at home.

Prince Victor Targaryen is the greatest swordsman in Westeros, but he no longer finds joy in competition. Things are uneasy in King's Landing, where politics are shifting and dangerous, and he seizes the chance to escape north in search of the young man who came so close to beating him in a tourney last year — and was so beguiling at the banquet afterwards.

Together they begin a journey to the great tourney of Harrenhal, with intrigue, honor, friendship and love along the way...and inevitable political conflict ahead.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/11951052/chapters/27019995

3. Through the Eyes of a King. “He was the first Japanese man that I saw in my life. At first glance, he seemed ordinary in appearance, the kind of man one easily overlooked in a crowd. But in his eyes lay passion, and the force of an oncoming storm, revealing the force of nature that he was. A man not to mess with, but to admire.

”These words, written in the diary of the young man that would one day become king of Russia, had burnt their way into the hearts and memories of the people, Russian and Japanese alike. For Katsuki Yuuri had never thought that he would ever leave his home behind. Called to a foreign court to become the teacher of the crown prince, Yuuri soon finds himself in the midst of a world so very different from his own - and in it King Victor the Divine that tolerates no dissent.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18791056/chapters/44583775

4. The Rules For Lovers. Prince Yuuri Katsuki has a duty to his country, above all else (his desires, his dreams, and his happiness included), and he knows this alliance will help to ensure the safety of his people. That’s the only reason he accepts Prince Nikiforov’s hand in marriage. The pleasant surprise, of course, is the part where they fall in love along the way. The unpleasant one, well…

https://archiveofourown.org/works/9645131/chapters/21790376

5. when it lasts. It’s been three years since King Victor fell fast and hard for his Yuuri in the sleepy, seaside town of Hasetsu, and the time has finally come to pop that ever important question. However, asking Yuuri to marry him is easier said than done, especially when all the forces of the universe seem to be working against him. Will King Victor be able to overcome the obstacles in his way and make his beloved his betrothed, or will he be crushed by the powers that be?

https://archiveofourown.org/works/14707139/chapters/33987668

6. The Elusive Vermilion Rose. As the revolution builds in Larussia, a masked vigilante appears to whisk those destined for execution to safety. Not about to have his plans ruined, the king gives his two sons an offer they can’t refuse: discover this masked man’s identity if you wish to be heir to the throne.

The youngest prince knows this is his only chance at the throne, while the older prince, Victor, finds himself caught in the middle; as his curiosity about the elusive Eros dances ever closer to affection.

Meanwhile Yuuri Katsuki, a tailor from the neighboring country of Yamato, has been traveling back and forth more than usual... clearly because of the nobility clamoring to have the emperor’s own tailor make their clothes. And Yuuri and his three friends definitely don’t have anything to do with the so-called masked vigilantes in the Society of the Vermilion Rose. Nope, not at all.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/16158239/chapters/37754681

7. Chrysanthemum Petals. Yuuri Katsuki woke up one day to receive a fancy letter to tea; from his absentee father. That one moment changed his life from just being Yuuri Katsuki, sleep deprived, awkward high school student to Yuuri, Crown Prince of Japan.

Hesitant to become Heir Apparent to the Chrysanthemum Throne, Yuuri will find reason to abandon all sensibilities in the most charming Duke of Kent.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/14453952/chapters/33389637

8. And A Shimmer Takes My Eye. Walking through the streets of New York, Yuuri balances the phone call on his bluetooth headphones alongside errands for his day off. “I don��t know, Chris—

“You’ve been alone too long, schatzi, his friend chides him. Chris met Yuuri when he was in the costume department at the Met, but since he got a coveted position at the Paris Opera, they can only FaceTime or cross an ocean for quality friend time. Orfeo closes soon, he’ll be in New York for business… at least enjoy a glass of something beautiful while exchanging a bit of small talk, yeah?

Yuuri enters the cake shop, walking past case after case of treats and pastries. A lovely cassis and white chocolate mousse cake catches his eye, and his conversation lags as he contemplates purchasing it as a gift to his cast mates for their final bow in a week. “Well. Before I grudgingly agree—

”That’s the spirit, Chris jokes.

“Is he at least… nice?” Yuuri asks.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18991204/chapters/45095746

9. King in Disguise. Yuuri is a low-ranked Ability User with a useless power, considered one of the weakest in the Terra Stellata – the institute to unlock a User’s true potential. But what lies beneath his power was an unfathomable amount of strength unseen by the eyes of others. He dreamed to fight alongside his idol; Victor Nikiforov, one of the strongest Ability Users in existence. He finds Victor willing to protect him at whatever cost.

Will Yuuri ever discover the true worth hidden within him?

Yuuri -- "I've admired you since I was little. You are my hero and will always be." Victor -- "I will always protect you no matter what it takes. If you are my king - then I'll be your knight.

"In a world where demons freely roamed, humans were bestowed with powers beyond imagination - when things went out of control, destiny awaited for a slumbering king to claim his throne.

(Magical/Superpower Fantasy AU taking place in the modern times)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/13525623/chapters/31026489

10. moods, states of grace, & elegies. Victor Nikiforov has traveled far and wide in the company of trader Christophe Giacometti on the silk roads to arrive at Hasetsu, capital of the Great Nihon Empire. He expects to stay a winter, until the seasons change again, and fairer weather and the changing of seasons can return him to his wanderlust.He does not expect to fall in love with the Crown Prince.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/14632119/chapters/33817776#workskin

11. in my head, in my heart, in my soul. Drawn into a conflict outside of his responsibility, Victor Nikiforov, the greatest general of the age, appears to have met his match in the shy Prince of Japan who surrenders on the fields of Goryeo.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/15994100

12. Victor the Great. At the age of nine Victor became the Tsar of all the Russias with Lilia as regent. One day he will be the sole ruler of Russia, the man who makes all the decisions and gets to do what he wants, with one exception: he has to marry a woman from a Russian aristocratic family. Except that he falls in love with a boy who is a foreign commoner. Will he risk the throne to be able to marry the one he loves?

https://archiveofourown.org/works/12740541/chapters/29055912

13. Our Love will Always Prevail. Almost 10 years ago, Lord Yuuri of the house Katsuki was taken as a ward of the house Nikiforov. A romance blossomed between him and the eldest heir of the house, Viktor Nikiforov. But the path to happiness is not always an easy one, Yuuri and Viktor will have to fight hard to obtain the happy ending they both desperately wish.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/14636100/chapters/33828141

14. Chosen Path. To end a century long struggle between Rus and Nihon the two Imperial families have come to a possible treaty. The only catch, the Emperor of Nihon wants the oldest Son of Rus to marry one of his retinue when he comes to Rus to sign the papers. Victor as oldest of 11 is not looking forward to getting a wife. So together with his siblings, parents, and the help of all his cousins and Palace staff, he sets out to get the one from the retinue he wants. Katsuki Yuuri never thought he stood a chance.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/16161911/chapters/37763492

15. Le soleil est près de moi. The prince moves across the grounds in robes the same shades as sapphires. He walks astride the King, not behind, as he proudly conducts the tour of the incredible grounds with ease. An austere woman follows at a respectful pace in gray and violet. She and the prince both have wide fabric belts in contrasting colors tied at their waists, and the prince’s ebony hair is styled similarly to his companion’s, though hers is vastly more complex.

“He’s quite comely up close,” Christophe continues with a wicked grin. “Though he seems a touch aloof in humor. Perhaps if I treat him to a little wine, a little of my solitary attention—

“Victor gives him a startled look. “No,” he manages, his eyes immediately locking back onto the prince. “Not…not this one, Christophe.”

https://archiveofourown.org/works/17486264

16. Serendipity. Yuuri never imagined himself to be anything other than ordinary, but a visit from his mysterious Aunt Minako leaves him dealing with his apparently royal destiny. With it comes many trials and tribulations, and love in the way Yuuri least expects it.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18212267/chapters/43084823

17. Fires. Victor and Yuuri are kings that govern Rossíya. They try to demonstrate, at the slightest opportunity, the love and devotion they feel for each other.

However, although almost the entire kingdom is happy and pleased by this marriage that ended with years of war against Hasetsu, Christophe, advisor of his majesty, doesn't welcome the constant trips the king makes to his homeland, for what is more than willing to discover what Yuuri hides behind them.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/20826122/chapters/49507334

17. Interpersonal Diplomacy. For the sake of ending a centennial war and protecting the lives of his family and people, Prince Imperial Yuuri of Shanjia makes an unexpected sacrifice, placing his life in the hands of King Viktor of Nova. For the survival of their nations' fledgling peace, Yuuri must live on Novan soil alone, surrounded by people his nation just recently considered enemies, and tied to their monarch by the bonds of diplomacy.

However, Yuuri will also find allies, individuals willing to welcome the peace-loving regardless of past history. If Yuuri is to carve a home in this foreign nation, he must earn the trust of the war-weary Novan people.

And in time, Yuuri may find himself drawing closer to the sympathetic but enigmatic King Viktor.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/16072742/chapters/37529747

18. Love Is Beautiful Fear. To become King, Prince Victor has to hold a Selection, to find a man or woman to marry. Yuuri is selected, but will his anxiety keep him from winning Victor's heart?

https://archiveofourown.org/works/9094546

19. love like fools. When Crown Prince Yuuri of Japan escapes his army of minders at his Saint Petersburg hotel, he thinks he’s found the opportunity to explore the city as a commoner.

When investigative journalist Viktor Nikiforov discovers the Crown Prince of Japan on a park bench in Saint Petersburg, he thinks that he’s found his ticket to redemption at the magazine he writes for.

But like the stories of those stranded during the White Nights after the bridges go up, neither of them had anticipated falling in love. (Roman Holiday AU)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/12039732/chapters/27258912

20. Like Magic Woven Through Me. Victor was quiet about it of course, but his love for the Prince had burned bright in his chest ever since he first met him, years before, when Yuuri was just twenty and Victor twenty-four. From the moment Victor had seen the Prince, he knew he was in trouble. Raven hair, big expressive eyes, smooth skin and cherry pink lips. But above all that was Yuuri’s unending kindness, how funny he could be when he let his guard down, his intelligent conversation, the way he used magic like he was dancing. How could Victor not love him?

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21977671

21. On My Life, Love. When Prince Yuuri and Prince Victor were children, they secretly got engaged. Alas, their friendship soon fell apart.

After 14 years of separation, Victor asks Yuuri for his hand in marriage, for it turns out that his childhood promise was a magically binding oath, and now his only options are to marry Yuuri or to remain unwed forever, lest he forfeit his life.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/11844423/chapters/26738385

22. if there's a will, there's a way. Two neighbouring countries in a state of tentative peace. Two royal families trying to protect their own people. And only one thing that can save them all from the war that is knocking on their door – a royal union that will cement loyalty, breed forgiveness and maybe somehow fix things.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/12506060/chapters/28473052

23. And all at once, you are the one I have been waiting for. “The law clearly states that the regent shall have a mate. It is widely known that being mated keeps one’s head clearer, brings joy and strengthens relations, both in one’s professional and personal life. Since I do not have a mate, nor do I have anyone in my life as of right now that I would want to spend my life with in that way, I have chosen to evoke the ‘Catarina praxi. “Lilia will give out the specific details how it will be conducted, but it will be a nationwide search for a mate for me and will require scent samples. As those of you who are familiar with the praxi knows, this means that all omegas that fall into the chosen group are prohibited from entering a mateship until an engagement between me and a chosen omega has been announced. This results in that all unmated omegas from the age of eighteen to twenty eight are now legally arranged to be mated to me, until an official engagement has been made."

The Nicholai Hall explodes with questions from the reporters as Lilia steps up to the microphone, while Yuuri keeps completely still, eyes wide and mouth hanging open, heart pounding in his chest.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/19727131/chapters/46687906

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ancano · 4 years

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YoI Fanfic Recs

Okay so I just wanna share some love and show y’all some amazing fanfics that I have personally read and absolutely adored!! You’ll likely see repeated authors, either cuz I follow them on tumblr or cuz I’ll raid their uploads once I find one I really like. Also apparently I read a lot of A/B/O so if that isn’t your thing sorry hhhhhh

No particular order for these, just going down my bookmarks and history lists on ao3

Glitter & Gold by plisetskytrash and victurius (I just caught up with this one and oh my god I love it.) Summary - In a world where drugs, sex, and violence rule, Viktor Nikiforov is the king. As the Pakhan of the Russian Mafia (the Bratva) he is responsible for murder and mayhem across multiple continents and that’s just the way he likes it. The only problem is that a new leader has risen to power in America – known only as ‘JJ’ – and he starts to intrude on Viktor’s territory.Not only is that rude, it’s damn right unacceptable.So, Viktor sets out to find out as much about JJ as he can, including infiltrating the businesses he owns, such as The Kiss and Cry, a sleazy club that works as a front for an exclusive exotic omega strip club that only the richest and most powerful men can access. Naturally, Viktor has no trouble getting inside. Once he’s there, however, his plans are thrown out of the window when he spots a beautiful, young Japanese omega with chocolate-brown eyes and an ass to die for. There’s only one problem: Viktor swore he’d never mate an omega.Will Viktor manage to stay focused on his mission? Or will this omega break Viktor’s most important rule?

Eros and Agape by ImaTastyPorkCutletBowl and Spunky0ne (you’ll see a couple works from these guys in this list because they are *chef’s kiss* amazing) Summary - For as long as Victor can remember, Yakov and Lilia have protected him from being discovered to be an Omega by helping him to project as an Alpha. But at the Grand Prix Final banquet, he comes face to face with the man destined to be his husband.

NEXT LEVEL: Nights After Dreams by RipVanGabriel (this is a LONG one, I haven’t even gotten very far in it, but trust me it’s worth it) Summary - The silver medal was hard fought and won, but now the stakes are higher than ever. Five gold medals loom on the horizon, but more importantly, the "life and love" within the gold rings. Yuri and Viktor's relationship grows as they get back on the competition road, and new complications rise with them. (Proper follow-up to the TV series; not AU, no crack ships, no weird shit.)

Wait! But, I’m not Yakuza! by ImaTastyPorkCutletBowl, SesshomaruFreak, and Spunky0ne (like I said, these guys, *chef’s kiss* I refuse to admit how many times I’ve reread the 2 chapters that are currently posted. I’m also the only person commenting on it last i checked which is a fucking shame, so y’all go comment on this amazing fic pls) Summary - The Katsuki family, except for the Hasetsu Katsukis, are the largest and most powerful Yakuza family in Japan, so it’s not surprising that poor Yuuri keeps getting mistaken for one of his distant relatives. On a trip to Russia with his father, Yuuri stumbles into a bar to avoid a group of rough looking punks, and he comes face to face with a beautiful, silver-haired exotic dancer. Things get crazy when Yuuri sees the lovely dancer being abused and steps in, only to get himself beaten into unconsciousness. He wakes in his hotel room and finds a note next to his bed…”Thank you for your kindness. I’m sorry those ruffians hurt you. It’s better you stay away. I don’t want anything else bad to happen to you. Vitya” He should go home. He should just forget the man, but Yuuri can’t help himself…Victuuri, intersex Victor, intersex pregnancy, lots of flustered Yuuri!

Love’s Requiem by Kashoku (gonna be honest, I don’t even ship Yuuri/Yuri, but I enjoy this fic) Summary - If you had asked Yuuri in Barcelona if there was anything that could ever bring him down from the high of being with Viktor Nikiforov, he would have laughed. But when the living legend suffers a career ending injury, it brings new struggles to their relationship. Viktor begins to drown his sorrows, and Yuuri finds himself being pulled beneath the surface in a way he’s not sure he can survive.

you’re the closest to heaven that I’ll ever be by roserelease (this shit right here is my fucking bread and butter y’all. I can’t even express how much happiness and love this fic gives me) Summary - More than anything, Yuuri wants to impress his cosplay role model Viktor Nikiforov. But after a horrible start to a convention weekend, he panics and backs out at the last second to meet his idol. Normally this would be fine, except Yuuri discovers too late that there's a little Viktor related secret inside the con vlog his best friend filmed over the course of the weekend for him...It's fine, he thinks. Embarrassing, but not the end of the world. And it's not like Viktor himself will ever see the con vlog, so why worry?(Except then Viktor does.)

Paying For Poison by SaerenDPity (another one of my absolute faves that sadly only updates once every other blue moon but when it does update I feel overwhelmingly Blessed) Summary - "Skater Katsuki?" Yuuri's eyes widened as he nodded, and suddenly Viktor Nikiforov was clutching at his coat. He barely registered that his childhood hero knew his name, he couldn't think on that when Viktor's voice was on the edge of breaking. Desperation lined his every movement."Yes th-that's me. Um… Mr. Nikiforov… Do… do you need help?"Viktor shook his head violently and shoved his hand into Yuuri's pocket. Yuuri only had time to squeak before Viktor was backing away, breathing heavily. "Please… please buy me."…Years after Viktor Nikiforov suddenly disappeared from the public eye, he resurfaces at the Rostelecom Cup, desperate for help. And Yuuri simply cannot abandon the man who inspired almost every aspect of his life, and so, he makes the decision to do just as Viktor asks - buy his services as an omega for one night.

Drowning In Your Love by MysticLipstick (another rarely updated fic that I’m head over heels for. please feed me, I need MORE) Summary - Victor Nikiforov has always gotten away with being a whore in college. Being the top athlete swimmer has gained him tons of attention, championships and girls. However, a cosmic encounter with Yuuri Katsuki has him questioning everything—including his sexuality. Yuuri’s shy nature and blatant disregard for Victor’s fame has Victor chasing him—something he’s never done, but Yuuri shuts him down. Completely.

November’s Secret by LanaBerry (I’ve reread this one about 5 times already tbh) Summary - Overwhelmed with anxiety and his fear of failing, Yuuri faces the issue of if he should continue skating. His best friend, Yuko, proposes a solution - if no one knows it's you, then it's less embarrassing, right? Yuuri begins to create a completely new disguise and persona.But it works a little too well.Before he knows it, Yuuri has become the biggest mystery of the skating world and everyone wants to know who he is. Especially Viktor Nikiforov, the idol he's been loosely basing his new persona on for years.

The ‘Until My Feet Bleed and My Heart Aches’ series by Reiya (recently finished rereading this one, always so fucking good) Summary - ‘…Of all the rivalries in the world of sports over the years, perhaps none has become so legendary as that of Russian figure skater Viktor Nikiforov and his rival, Japanese Yuuri Katsuki…’ A single event changes the course of Yuuri’s life, throwing him into a bitter rivalry with Viktor Nikiforov that spans across his entire skating career. But as the years go on, rivalry and hatred begin to develop into something very different and Yuuri doesn’t seem to be able to stay away, no matter how hard he tries.Hatred and love are two sides of the same coin and even though everything changes, some things are still meant to be.

With What We Once Had by MagicalMirai (this one is just too cute tbh) Summary - They called it quits, over a year and a half ago. But even though he should have been expecting it, Yuuri can’t help but feel suffocated when he bumps into Victor at the Grand Prix final, whilst holding his son. The son... he never told Victor about.

Nerve Endings by Phyona (this one is next on the “to reread” list) Summary - When Yuuri moves in with Victor in St. Petersburg, they have to work through Yuuri's anxiety and Victor's secrets to find their balance.

Puppy Love by Phyona (another phyona fic and it’s just way too fucking cute tbh) Summary - When Yuuri gets turned into a dog, the last place he expects to end up is Victor Nikiforov's apartment. He learns quickly that the only thing worse than being his idol's pet, is watching him pine for someone else.Warning: Makkachin has recently passed away at the start of this story.

The Stars on his Cheeks by QueenWinterofLuna (this one was actually written for a prompt I personally requested and I absolutely adore it, even still) Summary - A short drabble based on this Tumblr request from @napsushi: Can you write a fic where Yuuri discovers Victor has freckles and is just over the moon about it? This fandom needs more freckled Vitya.

This is all I can find and think of for now but if I remember more I’ll be sure to update it!!

#yoi #yuri on ice #fanfic #fanfic recs

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darkkidplaidopera · 3 years

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FINALLY FINISHED!!!!!!!

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov, Christophe Giacometti & Victor Nikiforov, Christophe Giacometti/Victor Nikiforov Characters: Katsuki Yuuri, Victor Nikiforov, Christophe Giacometti Additional Tags: Smut, Kinda Crack, Domestic Fluff, Oral Sex, Anal Fingering, Teacher/Student Roleplay, Long-Haired Victor Nikiforov, Flashbacks, Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, Finger Sucking, Spanking, thigh fucking, Top Chris, Bottom Victor Nikiforov, Swearing, Cinnamon Roll Katsuki Yuuri Summary:

When Viktor and Yuuri decide to go on a vacation to France, Yuuri cannot help but wonder how Viktor learned to speak the language so fluently.

“What are you going to teach me today, professeur?”

Chris relaxed at Viktor’s eagerness. Now all he was left with was hope that this last resort will succeed.

“We’ll play a game,” he replied, a mischievous grin making its way to his face. “At first, I’ll teach you some body-related vocabulary. Your task is to memorize it.”

“Simple enough.”

“After you do that, the game begins,” Chris continued. “I’ll point to a certain part of your body and you’ll have to translate the English word for it into French. If you do it correctly, you’ll get a reward. If not, I’ll punish you.”

Alias Christophe Giacometti and the great outcomes of his questionable teaching methods.

#yuri on ice #christophe giacometti #victor nikiforov #yuuri katsuki

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paxohana · 4 years

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Menagerie, Pt. 10

The sky was twinking with stars by the time they arrived home. Viktor and his father had been away for a little over a month and Viktor was relieved to be home. Not only was he able to sleep in his own bed, he’d be able to see Yuuri.

His entire being yearned to spend time with Yuuri. He thought of him thousands of times while he was in London and it was the best torment. Though he wanted to see him that very moment, Viktor knew it wasn’t feasible since it was close to two in the morning.

Helping the butler bring in the luggage from outside, Viktor retired to his room when they completed the task. He toed his shoes off, laid down, resting his arms behind his head. His thoughts were filled with Yuuri and he dreamed of being reunited with him by the time he drifted to sleep.

<hr>

Yuuri was chatting with his family at the breakfast table, his heart broken that Viktor hadn’t returned. Toshiya and Mari were discussing business, Yuuri wishing they would stop. He was about to give up on breakfast when he heard a knock at the door. His heart sped up and he offered to get the door, quickly rising from his seat and striding toward the door. There was a courier on the stoop and he had a letter for Yuuri. After tipping the young man and thanking him, Yuuri tore into the envelope and read the letter inside.

My Sweet Yuuri,

We returned home early this morning. You don’t know how much I wanted to send this to you the moment I got home, but I didn’t want to interrupt your rest. I eagerly await seeing you. I plan on remaining at home until I hear from you.

As always…

I am yours, Viktor

He read it once more for good measure and ran up the stairs, taking two at a time. He knew he should finish his meal, but he was far too excited at the aspect of seeing Viktor. He gave no care to what he wore that day, taking only a moment to make sure his clothing was acceptable. Placing his straw hat on his head, Yuuri ran out the door and towards the Nikiforov estate.

Yuuri could hear the sounds of a piano drifting through the air, getting louder as he approached the patio leading to the front door. On a normal day, he would take the time to listen to it. This day was different, however, and Yuuri wanted to see Viktor posthaste.

Yuuri knocked on the door and waited for it to be answered. He didn’t have to wait long, grinning when he saw Viktor’s face. He looked tired but happy to see him. Resisting the urge to kiss Viktor senseless, Yuuri took Viktor’s hands in his own.

“You don’t know how overjoyed I am to see you,” Yuuri said breathlessly.

“And I you,” Viktor agreed, “Would you like to come in?. I have so many stories to tell you. I even bought you a tiny souvenir.”

“I’d like that,” Yuuri replied.

After ushering Yuuri in, Viktor guided him to the stairs and asked how Yuuri had fared during their time apart. Yuuri told him about the long days of work and the even longer times without him. Yuuri tried to make the best of it and stay busy. He surprised Viktor by telling him he had played polo once with Harold and his brothers. While it wasn’t as appealing as when Viktor was there, he had fun nonetheless.

Once they reached Viktor’s room, Yuuri was stunned by the normalcy of Viktor’s room. He expected it to exude the wealth that was present in the rest of the house, but none was to be seen. Taking in every aspect of it, Yuuri turned around and saw Viktor grinning at him.

“I didn’t think I expected this,” Yuuri admitted, “I like it.”

“I like at least one space to reflect who I really am,” Viktor said, “Besides, I have my most decadent area in my closet. I’m quite picky when it comes to a wardrobe.”

Yuuri giggled and the edges of Viktor’s eyes creased in bemusement. Viktor took Yuuri’s hand and led him to a nearby loveseat. They were cramped by the smallness, but Viktor loved the body heat radiating from Yuuri. Looking up and catching Yuuri’s gaze, Viktor smiled softly.

“I missed you so much,” Viktor said, leaning in for a brief kiss.

The kiss was just the tip of everything they felt for one another. It was sweet, loving, and ever so delicate. Sitting back, Viktor smiled once again when he saw the faint blush on Yuuri’s cheeks.

“How I missed feeling your lips upon mine,” Viktor whispered, brushing Yuuri’s bottom lip with the pad of his thumb.

Taking a deep breath, Viktor settled in next to Yuuri so his hand could rest on Yuuri’s knee. He talked about all the landmarks he saw and how much better it would have been with Yuuri there. He discussed the boring meetings he was forced to attend. While he did enjoy the town itself, he wanted nothing more than to be with Yuuri.

“I did get you something,” Viktor said, pulling a small box from a nearby drawer and handing it to Yuuri.

Yuuri glanced at the box before turning his gaze to look at Viktor, confused when he saw the logo of a world-famous jeweler. Opening the lid, Yuuri gasped when he saw the delicate hand-blown red glass rose in the midst of a fragile glass vase. He didn’t want to pick it up for fear he’d drop it, but Viktor took the box from him and lifted the piece from its setting.

“It even has a ruby in the middle,” Viktor said, pointing at the small stone in the center of the rose.

Yuuri nodded and felt a tear slip down his cheek. He had never received anything on the scale that Viktor had given him. Too awestruck to speak, Yuuri simply nodded once more.

“Cat got your tongue?” Viktor teased.

“This is beautiful,” Yuuri declared, “I can’t believe something like this exists.”

Viktor smiled and listened to Yuuri gush about every aspect of the rose. He saw things Viktor hadn’t thought of and it was an eye-opening experience. Taking a breath, Yuuri leaned forward and brushed his lips across Viktor’s.

“Thank you so much,” Yuuri said, “I’ve never received anything so breathtaking before.”

“I’m glad you like it. Would you like to take it home and then we can head to the park? I would hate for it to shatter,” Viktor suggested.

Yuuri agreed and took Viktor’s hand when he stood. Seeing Viktor again was everything he thought it would be and more. Yuuri couldn’t believe how much he missed him now that he was with him. He never wanted to be apart from Viktor that long again.

Stopping momentarily so Yuuri could take his gift home, they headed toward the town square. It was bustling by the time they arrived and they sincerely hoped there would be a checkers table clear. They went into the cafe and bought some lemonades before starting the search for a table to play at. None were free, but there were a few chess tables empty. After learning they both knew how to play, they chose one and sat down.

“I play a mean game of chess,” Yuuri said.

“I don’t think you have the capability to be mean,” Viktor joked, laughing when Yuuri gave him an exasperated look.

They talked while setting the board up, discussing polo that week and how Harold had sprained his ankle the week before. Viktor mentioned they might have to postpone the match that week, but Yuuri told him that Thomas’ cousin promised to fill in for Harold.

They fell silent once the game started. They both displayed their finesse and knowledge of the game, both of them clearing the board of lesser pieces. Viktor was down to his king and moved it all over the board in an effort to not be captured.

“Check,” Yuuri said, when he placed his queen in front of Viktor’s king, “and mate.”

“How did your rook get over there so fast?” Viktor questioned.

“It’s been there for three turns, silly,” Yuuri teased, “Ready or another?”

They played until the sun began to set and the park started to clear out. Deciding to wrap up the current game quickly, Yuuri placed the pieces back in the drawer and cleaned the top of the board off. Once everything was settled, Viktor took Yuuri’s hand and led him through a flower-filled alley.

“Do you remember the first time we came through here?” Viktor inquired.

“The night you kissed my forehead,” Yuuri said, touched that Viktor still remembered.

“That was one of the best nights of my life,” Viktor confessed.

They continued walking down the alley until they reached the bridge leading to the other side of town. They crossed the bridge and took a shortcut through the grass, sitting down once they reached the old willow tree.

“I think this is our spot, Yuuri,” Viktor observed.

“I agree with you wholeheartedly,” Yuuri said.

Viktor laid back and stared at the sky through the fronds of the willow tree. The sky looked as soft as Yuuri’s skin, the twinkling reminiscent of Yuuri’s eyes. Not about to contain himself, Viktor sat up and cupped Yuuri’s face.

“I’ve never before seen such a perfect ensemble formed in one person,” Viktor started, “How do you capture my heart so?”

Yuuri looked down at a thread he was toying with and contemplated Viktor’s words. He knew exactly how Viktor felt because that was what drew Viktor to him. He just never expected to hear his own thoughts echoed back at him.

“I wonder the same about you countless times each day, Vitya,” Yuuri whispered.

Viktor eased onto his side and searched Yuuri’s face. His eyes sparkled from the moonlight and his lips were slightly opened. The small gasps he took while gazing at the sky endeared him even more to Viktor.

“I do believe you are an angel descended from heaven,” Viktor whispered, brushing a single lock of hair out of Yuuri’s vision.

Yuuri looked at him, shocked from his confession. He knew Viktor fancied him, but not enamored as much as Viktor professed. While Yuuri fought the perils of infatuation since he didn’t think Viktor felt the same, Yuuri felt as if the cage surrounding his heart flew open and set forth to fly.

“No, Viktor, I’m not,” Yuuri assured him, “Maybe we were destined to meet and fall in love, though it’s been a rather quick endeavor of our relationship.”

“Do you think this has been a speedy experience?” Viktor asked, watching Yuuri nod, “I apologize for pressing my wants upon you, Yuuri. What can I do to make it up to you?”

“It’s not all that bad, Vitya,” Yuuri said, “I just don’t want to blaze like a meteor and then the next week it’s gone..”

“I can promise you that you are not a flight of fancy, my sweet Yuuri, I love you with everything that I have. I know our love is young, but I want to see if blossom into a mature love,” Viktor said, “I want you in my life for the duration. I can definitely promise you that.”

Yuuri turned his head and caught Viktor’s gaze with his own. Searching Viktor’s eyes, Yuuri gasped slightly when Viktor lowered his head and captured Yuuri’s lips with his. The taste of Viktor flooded his mouth and he didn’t realize how much he missed it until that moment. He knew he could go on kissing Viktor forever, but alas the fates weren’t kind to relationships such as theirs. Resigning himself to cherish whatever time he had with Viktor, Yuuri continued to kiss Viktor in the most passionate kiss either had ever experienced. When they finally broke apart, Viktor placed his arm around the back of Yuuri’s neck and grinned.

“I think I could grow to love that for the rest of my life,” Viktor stated, “but it’s time we return to our respective homes. I’ll walk you to your door.”

Yuuri returned the smile and nodded, being in full agreement. Night had fallen and it had been dark for a few hours, so Viktor risked it all and held Yuuri’s hand. Not caring about the repercussions of the action, Viktor only basked in the love between them.

When they reached Yuuri’s house, Yuuri stood on the steps leading up to the porch. He didn’t want the night to end but knew that it must. Looking at Viktor, Yuuri sighed sadly.

“I feel like we have so much time to catch up on,” Yuuri said.

“At least a ton more kisses as well,” Viktor said, winking when Yuuri giggled, “What do you have planned for tomorrow?”

“I have to balance a few books, but after that I should have the afternoon free,” Yuuri said.

“Would you fancy going swimming in the lake with me?” Viktor asked.

“I think that’s a splendid idea,” Yuuri said, “I’m saddened to say that this is the end of our fabulous evening.”

“I as well, but we always have tomorrow,” Viktor promised him, making circles on Yuuri’s hand with the pad of his thumb, “I shall collect my evening kiss then.”

“All right,” Yuuri said, laughing when Viktor smiled, “Until tomorrow, Vitya.”

“Until then, my sweet Yuuri. Until then.”

The art done by the amazingly talented @princessmimoza. Need to catch up? Check it out on Ao3 here.

#menagerie update #victuuri fic #viktuuri fic #pax writes #princessmimoza draws #Viktor Nikiforov #Katsuki Yuuri

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fantasyfictionary · 4 years

Text

Victuuri

Has been 1 year since Yuuri and Viktor parted to walk in different ways in the same path. They promised not to see each other until now and only have phone calls in order to focus on winning the next Grand Prix. However, today is a special day. Today is their anniversary, the day that promise in Barcelona was made and the golden rings were exchanged. All the paparazzi and fans had tried to investigate more about the relationship without many results, only knowing they have paired rings and nothing else. Every time someone asked them about it, they avoided the question with: “it’s a personal promise between us”.

In Russia

Yuuri sends Yurio one last message confirming that he has already landed and is waiting for Otabek at the airport exit. The plan consists of surprising Victor in his apartment with a homemade meal and a few decorations. To do this, Yurio and Otabek were required as his spy and taxi driver.

Otabek left Yuuri in Victor’s apartment. Yuuri put the number key to enter and start with the plan. First, Yuuri decorated the flat with balloons, a trace of rose petals in the hall leading to dining room and candles all over the place. Then, he started cooking dinner. When he finally finished the special menu, he received a message from Yurio telling him that Victor was on his way home. Sending a ‘Thanks’, Yuuri rushed in putting the dishes on the tables, lighting the candles, turning off the house lights and last but not least, hiding himself in the bathroom. As the door was opened, he starts filming the moment with his phone.

Victor opened the door of his flat, annoyed and frustrated ‘cause his Yuuri didn’t respond to all of his messages and phone calls. He was also worried. Yuri never have left Victor’s Whatsapps without a response. Something was wrong, not only with his boyfriend, but also with Yurio. The little tiger had watched over him like a watchdog all day and only had approached to tell him to leave the training early today and to not get scared. Weird. He turns on the lights to find a welcoming rose petals entrance and a nice and familiar smell in the air.

Victor: “Hello?” There was a silence. Victor takes out his Taser from his backpack. In Russia, someone stealing in your home could happen anytime so you must always be prepared. “Mister House-breaker?”

Victor arrived at the dining room where the race of petals finished.

Victor: “Wow! Is that katsudon?” As fast as he finished the sentence, Yuuri appeared from the bathroom.

Yuuri: “Welcome home Victor! Happy anniversary! Did you like my surp- Waaaaaaah!”

Victor has missed the shot of the Taser when his lover has surprised him from his back. A few more centimetres and it would have hit him straight in the trunk.

Victor: “Oh my god! Are you okay Yuuri?” Yuri was now on the floor with one hand on his heart.

Yuuri: ”... Yeah. Just … give me a minute. You scared the shit out of me Victor”

Victor: “How come?” Smirking, he helps his lover to stand up holding his hip “Well, Yuuri that was a real welcome surprise”

Yuuri: “Yeah. I’m glad you like it. I have been preparing it all the afternoon.” When he raised his head to see Victor’s face, he gasped. Victor has now his original long hair!

Victor: “Darling? Oh, I know, is it my new makeover? Well actually, is a comeback makeover” He says giggling.

Silence.

Victor: ”You don’t like it?” He asked more seriously at the null response.

Yuuri: “Wha- What?! What are you saying? Of course, I like it! Victor I-I-I ...” He tried to search the correct words to describe his crush, but he cannot find any because his brain just had a short circuit. In front of him, just a few inches from his face, was his beautiful ice-skating star boyfriend with his beautiful LONG silver hair, sensual lips and hypnotic eyes holding him by the hips. How many times has he fantasized in this situation?

Yuuri stops the recording, leaves his phone in the table, and immediately grabs Victor by the wrist and takes him to the bed where shyly Yuuri sits. Yuuri breath in and out twice trying to calm down before speaking.

Yuuri: ”Victor listen carefully. You’re the most gorgeous and stunning thing alive in this world, in this universe. Right now, I know I’m blessed that you Victor Nikiforov are mine as I am all yours” After that, he pulls Victor to be able to kiss him with a gentle but demanding kiss.

Victor started touching his boyfriend moved by his words while kissing him more roughly. He pushes him to stretch in bed and have better accessibility. They were flushed and the need for the other after one year of hunger was present.

Morning

Victor wakes up as he feels something snuggle closer to him, stepping into the process of his now long hair.

Victor: “Ouch. какого черта? Is that you Makkachin? Please stop eating my hair” Half asleep, he looks at the fake Makkachin. ‘Oh, it’s Yuuri’ He smiles ‘Look at him, he is too adorable’. He approaches his ear and whispers to him as he gently caresses his arm “Yuuri, my precious Yuuri, you truly are amazing. I think you aren’t the only one blessed” He kisses his ear, before kissing his cheek, nose and finally his left eyelid. “Well, I believe we’re going to have katsudon for breakfast”

* The End *

#au:yuri on ice #yuri on ice #victuuri #victor nikirofov #yuri plisetsky #otabek altin #victor x yuuri #original idea #oneshot #original work

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thewalrus-said · 5 years

Text

For Chubby Yuuri Week Day 7, I’m doing something a little different - I’m posting a preview for a fic I’ve been working on that features the Round Best Boy. I’m not tagging the blog because it’s not really focused on Chubby Yuuri, but it does feature him. It’s a sequel to we’ll have the life we knew we would, my long-distance pining fic. Just a heads-up, it’s currently unbetaed and unresearched, so please forgive any errors. Hope you enjoy!

----

May 28, 1890

Mr. and Mrs. Katsuki,

Please excuse my writing in English. I have some spoken Japanese, but none at all for writing or reading, unfortunately.

I do not expect you to remember me, but I was once a patron of your inn for a period of some weeks. It left quite an impression upon me, to the point where, eleven years later and on the brink of retirement, it has been much on my mind. I can think of nowhere better to spend my last years. I am thirty-eight years old now, and plan to retire at forty - is it acceptable to you that I do so at your inn? What would your rates for such a thing be? I will have a sizable pension available to me. I have a dog, a poodle of some middle age - would she be allowed to accompany me? She is very well-trained, and loves to meet new people.

I hope I do not presume too much in asking these questions. If I have, I beg your forgiveness.

Regards,

Viktor Nikiforov

——

Viktor arrives at Yuu-topia, Hasetsu, for the second time in the summer of 1892, two bags in hand and a dog at his heels. It is nothing at all like the first time. This time, he is accompanied by Makkachin, not his father and his father’s business associates. This time, the hot springs will ease aches that have settled into his bones, not refresh his youthful vigor.

This time, he knows who waits for him inside.

The front door opens as he approaches. “Mr. Nikiforov?” the woman behind it says. Viktor recognizes Yuuri in her face. Judging from her age, this is his mother.

“I am,” he says in his best Japanese. “Thank you for welcoming me into your home.”

She waves a hand. “You are welcome here, Mr. Nikiforov. Let me help you with your bags. And what a lovely dog!”

He tries to wave off her aid but she is relentless. It reminds him of Yuuri. So much about her reminds him of Yuuri. It makes his heart ache.

“We have set your room up in the family wing,” Yuuri’s mother says, leading him through the hallways, “but if you would prefer the guest wing, you must say so and we will move you.”

“I’m honored,” Viktor says honestly. “The family wing sounds lovely. I’m sure it will suit me perfectly.”

“Good, good.” They come to a locked door. She sets Viktor’s bag down to rifle through a set of keys, selecting one and unlocking the door. “I have a set of keys for you in your room, to get in the front door and into the family wing,” she says, leading him down yet another hallway. They pass two doors, then come to the third, which is on the left. “Here you are,” she says, tapping on it. “We have put you next to our son. Do you remember our son?”

Viktor’s heart clenches. He nods. “I remember him, yes.”

“Good, good,” she says with a smile. “He will help you if you get lost. Here we are.” She opens the door and they step inside.

It’s a large room, larger than he had expected. The bed is up against the back wall, soft and inviting to Viktor’s travel-weary eyes. There’s a comfortable-looking armchair under a wall light fixture on the left side. The walls are bare. A Western-style dresser has been placed against the right wall, and the far right corner is blocked off by a screen. With a woof, Makkachin trots off and disappears behind it.

Yuuri’s mother sets the bag she is holding down. Viktor follows suit. “You must rearrange the furniture and decorate to your liking,” she says. “Nothing is off-limits. If you need assistance, please ask, and my husband or my son will help you.” Viktor nods. She smiles. “Welcome to Hasetsu, Nikiforov-san.”

He smiles back. “Thank you. And please, I hope you will all feel comfortable calling me Viktor-san.”

“Viktor-san,” she repeats. “Yes, of course. Welcome to Hasetsu, Viktor-san. Now.” She claps her hands together. “You must be tired after your travels. Dinner is in two hours. Feel free to rest until then. I will give you the tour after dinner and you can bathe, if you wish.” Viktor nods. “I will send my son to show you the way to dinner when it is time, assuming I can find him. He has been absent all day. But he knows you are coming, so he will turn up eventually.” She smiles at him again and leaves, the door clicking softly shut behind her.

Viktor wanders over and sinks into the chair with a sigh. Absent all day, he thinks. Could Yuuri be having second thoughts? He had expected Yuuri to be the one to meet him. Anxiety, a familiar companion in the last few months before his move, twists in his gut. He sighs again and whistles for Makka.

It takes a moment but she comes, padding from behind the screen across the room to him. “Where is he, girl?” he asks, rubbing her ears. “Where is your other papa? Where is Yuuri?”

“I’m here,” comes a soft voice, and out from behind the screen steps a figure, familiar and unfamiliar, longed-for for thirteen years. Viktor’s heart expands, until he can feel it thumping in his ears and toes. He stands. “There you are indeed,” is all he can think to say.

Yuuri paces to the middle of the room and stops. He’s softer and rounder than Viktor remembers, and his hair is longer, tied back at the base of his skull. Under Viktor’s stare, he blushes and ducks his head the same way he had done the last time they saw each other, when Viktor called him beautiful.

There are tears in Viktor’s eyes, and he barely has time to clap a hand to his mouth before a sob escapes it. Yuuri’s head flashes up, concern spilling out over his features, and he steps forward, putting his hands out to touch Viktor’s face. Viktor reaches up and clings to them. “I have been so scared,” Viktor confesses, his eyes falling shut. “So scared I would see you and it wouldn’t be the same, that we would just be two people to one another. But it isn’t, it feels just the same.”

A tear trickles out from under his closed eyelid. Yuuri brushes it away with a thumb and tilts Viktor’s face forward until their foreheads are touching. “Silly Viktor,” he murmurs, his own relief evident in his beloved, ached-for voice. “How many times did you tell me, these past thirteen years? We were made for each other. We are not two people, we are one person, and we are together again.”

Another sob of relief slips out and Viktor steps forward, his hands dropping Yuuri’s to wrap around his waist and his head slipping down to nestle into Yuuri’s neck. “I’ve missed you so much,” he whispers into the skin pressed against his mouth. Yuuri’s arms come up to hold him tight and warm.

Viktor loses track of time that way, holding and being held by Yuuri, tears slipping out from his eyes, but eventually the tears stop coming and he starts to feel able to loosen his grip. Yuuri pulls back a little and gives him a heartbreakingly beautiful smile. “A little better?” he asks.

“Can I kiss you?” Viktor asks in reply.

#yuri on ice #yuri!!! on ice #chubby yuuri week #victuuri #viktuuri #my writing

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yandere-daydreams · 5 years

Text

A little Yandere!Viktor (Yuri!!! on Ice) for the lovely @k-doodles-stuffs . I’m not terribly familiar with this character, but I hope that y’all will find this as fun as I do.

Word Count: ~1000

You’d always liked interviews.

With someone as flashy as you, a camera an over-enthusiastic host was an excuse to tease, and brag, and avoid serious questions in exchange for flirting with whatever audience member you found cute that day. It was fun, and you never had to give too much away. Privacy was something you held close, after all.

Well, privacy was something you used to hold close. Before Viktor came along and tore it away from you. Just like he’d torn your family away from you, and your friends, and your career. Your personality would’ve been done-for too, but Viktor had to leave something behind. Just the thought filled you with contempt, and seeing him smile, draping an arm over your shoulders and leaning into the loveseat behind you, only strengthen your desire to wrap your hands around his throat and squeeze. But, you could barely muster anything but a few shy waves and a hesitant smile.

Despite your obvious anxiety, the host just smiled, falling into a single seat and propping her feet up on the table between you. Her hair was trapped in a ponytail so high, your scalp hurt just from looking at it. You only noticed her jacket once she turned to face you, a mass-produced version of the one you would’ve worn a year ago. A fan, obviously. Maybe that was why Viktor choose her.

“So, the lovebirds…” She trailed off, smirking in your direction. With a dismissive nod, her normal grin returned, only scaring you further. “Go ahead, I know you two don’t like to be that far apart.”

You opened your mouth, ready to tell her that you were already as close as you could be, but Viktor didn’t give you the opportunity. You could feel his arms wrapping around your waist. By the time you realized what he was doing, you were already in his lap, Viktor’s chin propped on your shoulder with an unearned familiarity. In a more private scenario, you would’ve just made some excuse or pushed him away, but you didn’t want to know what he’d do if you embarrassed him like that in public. Playing along, you kicked off your shoes, melting into his chest. You could hear Viktor purr, choking down a compliment you were sure would make your skin crawl.

“Sorry about this,” He chuckled, nuzzling further into your neck. You flinched, but it couldn’t have been visible. You were being held too tightly for that. “I just love my little angel so much… Did you know we’re getting married, soon? I can’t wait for you to see how lovely she is in a wedding dress, and more importantly, how beautiful I’ll be in a suit.”

The host rolled her eyes, like the very topic of something so gushy disgusted her. You were tempted to join her, honestly. “Believe me, I know. Who do you think is planning to crash the party?” Cue a laugh from the audience, and a worryingly dark glare from Viktor. She gestured vaguely to the sickening display of affection in front of her, regarding you more fondly than she had Viktor. “How’d he manage… this, anyway? I’d never pinned (Y/n) as the sentimental type. I’d thought she was going to focus on recovery, considering your last press-conference.”

“I’m not,” You mumbled, letting the statement slip-out before Viktor could answer for you. Still, you corrected the mistake quickly, letting out a light laugh and swinging your legs happily. “But, this guy managed to pry his way into my life. He refused to leave me alone until I agreed to let him coach me, and eventually, he managed to seduce me with all his training regiments and diet plans.” You shuddered at the things Viktor made you do, pulling you in with promises of improvement only to break you down, until your confidence replied on his approval. Most days, you worked yourself to exhaustion just so he’d do something besides eating away at your skills. “Didn’t make him go easier on the sprinting, though.”

“As for her leg,” Viktor continued, gesturing towards the injured limb. The bandage wasn’t visible beneath your jumpsuit, but you could still feel hundreds of eyes burning into your skin. “I’m afraid recovery isn’t a possibility, anymore. Her Achilles tendon was completely severed.” He paused, his tone too apologetic to be innocent. But, you were long past caring about who’d actually cause the ‘accident’. It didn’t matter who dropped that skate, or who sharpened it so jaggedly, there was still a scar stretching from your ankle to your knee. One that Viktor assured you wouldn’t heal, if you were lucky. “It’s a tragedy. On the bright side, you’ll never have to jog again, dear.”

The host laughed, along with the majority of the audience. But, her hyper, high-pitched voice managed to catch you off-guard. “And I’m sure this whirlwind romance isn’t popular with your fans. You two were rivals a few months ago, I mean. And didn’t (Y/n) call you a ‘delusional, goddamn stalker’ many, many times before you got together, Viktor?”

You cringed, already regretting being so… open with your feelings. That clip was one of Viktor’s favorites, the one he’d play as he held you in his lap, telling you that he’s so glad you changed your mind. During his ‘private training sessions’ (a more romantic name for the times his words weren’t enough to keep you in place), he’d have you recite those three little words until your throat was sore, if only to give him the resolve to carry-out whatever he had planned out. Even at the small reminder, you could feel Viktor growl against your skin, pressing a quick, toothy kiss into your jugular. When he spoke, his voice was lower than it had been. More serious. “People change their minds. It’s human nature. Someone was just a little scared of me, at first. Did you know she used to be one of my biggest fans?”

Used to be. But, you shrugged, trying to brush this off as casually as you could. “I guess I was intimidated, and I might’ve said a few things I didn’t mean.”

“Then you seem to have a type, Mr. Nikiforov,” She chuckled, pausing to lean forward. “Tell me, do you always date your students? Between (Y/n) and your last partner, Yuuri, your only pick-up line seems to be ‘Hey, wanna win gold?’.”

“If it works,” Viktor replied, pulling you closer. You didn’t have time to object before his lips met yours, forcing a drawn-out (albeit soft) kiss onto you. By the time he pulled away, your fists were clenched at your sides, the imprints of your nails carved into your palm. But, you smiled, resting your forehead against his and stringing your arms around his neck. “But, we’re going to be together for a lot longer than Yuuri and I were. And with that injury, I think I’ll be taking very good care of my fiancée, for a very long time.”

You frowned as his grin widened, fingertips trailing delicately over your scar. But, you took his hand regardless, the coldness of his engagement ring burning your skin. “Til death do us part, right?”

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yurionice-secretsanta · 4 years

Text

To @hotaruyuki From @mrscalculation

It’s late October, Yuri has been in Detroit since mid-August, and Viktor is in the United States for the first time since the injury that ended his competitive career.

It’s fine, he’s fine, and Yuri is definitely fine. Viktor is coming to visit after the end of Yuri’s midterms since Yuri won’t be able to come home until late December, and he’s sure Yuri is fine. He’s an incredible artist and perhaps the single most stubborn, obsessive, competitive asshole Victor has ever met. There’s no way that he didn’t absolutely annihilate his midterms, especially with this being his first semester. They were probably on boringly easy stuff on the theory behind everything he does, anyway. Or maybe drawing something so easy it’s like stick figures to Yuri. Viktor doesn’t know. He never went to art school.

He never went to university, actually.

While Viktor had every intention of giving Yuri his space on this visit, Yuri makes it far too easy for Viktor to throw that idea out.

“Hey, old man,” he says, “I’m going to a friend’s tonight to celebrate the end of midterms. You don’t have to come. You should sleep.”

What Viktor hears is instead, Oh, loving adoptive older brother of mine, wouldn’t you love to meet my friends? Drink with them? Tell them embarrassing stories from my childhood, then brag about me until I can’t decide which I’d rather die from? Please come with me. Please embarrass me.

What Viktor says is, “Yura! I’d love to go with you! I can always come back early if I’m too tired, but I don’t get to meet your friends every day!”

Yuri groans and threatens to end Viktor’s life if he embarrasses him, to which Viktor gives a chipper, “I would never!”

Viktor must say, he’s a little disappointed at the things Yuri has been getting up to in America.

For one, this celebration turns out to be five guys playing a drinking game in one of their apartments. They’re playing what is apparently a very difficult level of a single-player video game, and any time one of them dies, they take a shot and pass the controller to the next person.

For another, someone thought that this rubbing alcohol passed as vodka.

After a brief squabble during which Yuri launches himself at the guy who’s best at the game—also named Yuuri, funnily enough—and the whole thing being put on Instagram for the world to see, Yuri sends Viktor away to get more alcohol for the group. Viktor knows he should be a better influence than buying alcohol for his underage brother, but they’re Russian, and if they were in Russia, all of this would be acceptable and legal, so he only puts up a fight long enough to get Yuri angry about being treated like a child, but not enough for Yuri to actually fight him.

Viktor has never been happier to be a poor influence.

As it turns out, the other Yuuri is a cute drunk, very clingy and affectionate and loud and wont to praise Viktor to the moon.

He’s also a figure skater, apparently.

“I used to look up to you so much,” he says, hoodie off and leaning across Viktor. Leo has gone back to the dorm he and Yuri share, and Phichit has stepped outside for a call. Yuri is passed out with his head pillowed in Otabek’s lap, and Otabek, who either did not drink at all or is completely unphased by alcohol, sits with his headphones in, scrolling through his phone, absentmindedly running his fingers through Yuri’s hair. “Nikiforov. I used to want to be just like you. You were the best.”

While Viktor appreciates the praise, he’s also never heard Yuuri’s name in his life before because he hasn’t really followed figure skating for years. “Thank you,” he says, and is rewarded with Yuuri wrapping his arms around Viktor’s shoulders.

“Are you okay? Viktor? Are you okay?” Yuuri’s eyes are glossy and his glasses are crooked and falling across the tip his reddening nose. Viktor?” he asks again.

“I’m fine,” Viktor says reflexively, then, “but what about you?”

“No, Viktor, I’m fine. Viktor! I mean. Up here.” Yuuri goes to poke Viktor in the forehead but misses, getting him in the bottom of the eyebrow. He squints his eyes and tries again, and he’s closer to the center this time. “I was so sad when you got hurt, Viktor. I wish you could skate again. I don’t know what would happen if I couldn’t skate again, but I know I wouldn’t be okay up here.” He presses his finger a little harder into Viktor’s forehead.

Viktor feels his eyes water just a little. He wraps an arm around Yuuri’s shoulders and moves him to sitting upright. “I’m doing a lot better,” Viktor says, and he means it. It had taken a lot, but Viktor had eventually learned to live off the ice. “Thank you for asking.”

Yuuri, still swaying just a little bit after being moved, wraps Viktor into a hug. “Good,” he says, and it’s a little watery and very genuine. “I thought so. I watched your videos and you seemed better, but I wanted to make sure.” He giggles a little bit, but maintains his hug. “I mean, I didn’t think I would ever get to make sure because I don’t know you, but now I can.”

“I’m so good now, Yuuri,” Viktor says as he gently, awkwardly returns the hug. Yuuri has his arms trapped, and it’s a little bit of a struggle to get them free, but he manages it and folds Yuuri against his chest for a second. “Thank you,” he says into Yuuri’s hair.

After another moment, they pull apart. “Hey,” Yuuri says, listing to the side without Viktor to hold onto. “Watch me, okay? I have a competition next weekend. Watch me.”

Viktor nods, and Yuuri makes a happy sound.

“I’ll be skating for you,” he says.

Viktor is shocked, then beaming, then completely empty of Yuuri too soon as Phichit returns.

“All right, Yuuri, let’s go,” he says, hoisting Yuuri up and tossing his hoodie back to him. “I already called an Uber, so you have three minutes to get it together before we have to go.”

Viktor gets Yuuri a glass of water while Phichit gathers their things. Yuuri wiggles a little while he drinks it, and is then being shuffled out the door by Phichit.

“Nice to meet you, Viktor!” Phichit says over his shoulder as they go.

If Yuuri says anything, Viktor doesn’t hear it.

Viktor goes to an art gallery with Yuri and Otabek, looking at the art that Yuri’s classmates have on display and for sale. As it turns out, Yuri had skipped the opening of the gallery in favor of the drunken video game kickback at Otabek’s, and Viktor honestly can’t blame him. As great of an artist as Yuri is, he’s never been one for schmoozing, and that seems to be all that’s happening here. Viktor pulls Otabek away when Yuri runs into someone he knows and gets caught up in conversation.

Viktor likes Otabek, really. It’s clear that he balances Yuri out and is a calming influence, and he speaks Russian, which not only makes wrangling Yuri easier, but shit talking as well. Viktor likes Otabek, which is exactly why he pulls Otabek now.

“How old are you, Otabek?” Viktor asks in Russian.

“Excuse me?” Otabek’s face stays completely passive as usual.

“How old? I’m just curious.”

“Twenty-one at the end of the month.”

“And Leo and Yuuri and Phichit?”

“Leo and Phichit are twenty, and Yuuri will be 24 next month. Why?” Otabek finally questions. He’s not putting up a fight, and doesn’t even seem genuinely curious. It seems like he just thinks he has to ask.

“Oh, no reason,” Viktor says lightly, plastering his friendliest smile for the public on his face. “I was just wondering how Yuri got to know all of you when none of you would be in the same classes, since you’re all older.”

“Ah,” Otabek says, then doesn’t tell Viktor. Viktor swears his lack of an answer must be deliberate; Yuri would never befriend someone who wasn’t at least a little bit of an asshole.

“Well?” Viktor prompts. “How did you meet Yuuri?”

“He’s roommates with Leo. Leo and I used to skate together, and Leo is friends with Phichit, so when Leo found out that Yuri used to skate, he invited us all to the rink where Phichit and Yuuri train.”

It’s the most Viktor has heard Otabek say since meeting him, but he appreciates it. “Thank you,” he says because he feels obligated to do so. A slow smile spreads across his face. “You know, to show how much I appreciate you looking out for Yuri, let me tell you something,” he says conspiratorially.

Otabek raises an eyebrow, which is a more enthused response than Viktor has gotten out of him up to this point.

“When Yuri was younger,” Viktor starts, then looks around to see if anyone is trying to eavesdrop just in time to see Yuri’s blind fury before his hand is around Viktor’s throat.

“Whatever you’re going to say,” he says lowly, “I recommend rethinking it if you value your life.”

“Next time, then!” Viktor says chipperly once Yuri lets him go. He rubs at his throat.

Yuri shoots him a death glare, but from behind him, Otabek mouths next time.

When Viktor gets back to Russia, far enough that he knows Yuri won’t be able to judge him, he looks up everything he can on Katsuki Yuuri.

For the first year after his accident, Viktor had purposely avoided all things skating. He still heard about things, of course, but he spent his time in physical therapy practicing walking without a walker or cane, not worried about trying to balance on skates or which blade to land on after a jump. He hadn’t wanted to remind himself of what he would never do again, so he avoided watching competitions or keeping up with scores or anything related to competition at all unless it was for some of his friends. He didn’t bother following anyone new, even once he felt comfortable skating for fun again.

If he had continued to compete, or if he had chosen early retirement instead of having it forced upon him, Viktor is certain he would have followed Yuuri’s journey.

He’s heading into his first competition of the Grand Prix Series, where he’ll make his comeback after a disastrous performance at last year’s final and a broken ankle that kept him off the ice for months. While Viktor’s injury had been career-ending, Yuuri describes his in interviews as embarrassing and motivating.

“I let my life distract me so much from my skating that I was injured, which negatively impacted both,” Viktor reads in one article. “It’s difficult and embarrassing to have fallen this far, but I’ve decided I want to try one more time for all the people who have supported me through this. I hope to show them that everything I do is for them.”

Viktor watches Yuuri’s programs from the year before, both his qualifiers and at the final, and is shocked to see the dramatic difference between Yuri’s mostly clean and beautifully-emotional qualifier free program and his messy, numb performance at the final.

The commentator declares that the next jump is supposed to be a quad-triple combination, but in its place comes a rough fall, gasps from the commentators, and Yuri’s powerful attempt to finish the program despite obvious pain.

Viktor closes out the video, trying to reconcile the image he has in his head of a slightly snarky Yuuri enjoying Yuri’s anger with the fumbling mess that Viktor saw on ice, the affectionate but loud and lewd Yuuri of one or two or five drinks too many with the polite, nervous Yuuri of interviews. At its best, it comes together to form a beautiful, talented skater whose programs leave the audience aching for just another glimpse, just a moment longer; at worst, they leave behind the hollow-eyed remnants of a skater who drinks his way through social interactions.

Viktor doesn’t feel like he knows either of those people.

He finds Yuuri’s YouTube channel, slightly awkward with the knowledge that Yuuri has apparently seen some of his videos, but accepts that he knew what he was doing when he started a channel. Almost none of Yuuri’s content has anything to do with figure skating, but is instead him playing video games with Phichit, which explains why he was so much better than everyone else at their dumb drinking game. His channel goes back a few years, starting just a few months before Yuuri’s senior debut and aligning perfectly with when Yuuri moved to Detroit to skate. It doesn’t seem like he posts on a schedule, but he seems to have at least one for every two weeks, sometimes more. Viktor clicks on an earlier one where he and Phichit take turns playing a dating simulator, and Viktor is entirely charmed at how confidently Yuuri makes ridiculous choices when designing his character, but how easily he gets flustered when Phichit tries to direct them to the dating part of the dating sim.

“Yuuri! You aren’t trying to make friends with them, you’re trying to sleep with them!”

Yuuri’s face goes noticeably red on screen, and his shoulders stiffen. “What’s wrong with being friendly to someone you want to sleep with?”

Several hours later, Viktor pulls himself out of a spiral of content and into the living room. He opens the doors to the storage in his TV stand and smiles.

Well, he might as well.

“Good morning, amazing people! Today I’m doing something a little bit different, inspired by a few of Katsuki Yuuri’s videos with Phichit Chulanont. I’ve never done a video like this before, so I hope it works! If you like it, I may make it a series of me trying to play games I’ve never played before. We’ll see!”

Viktor isn’t lying. He really hopes it works. He didn’t have any of these games just lying around, and he spent far too much money getting them, but at the very least, it should be fun. It’s chaotic and he knows it, but it was cheaper than buying another ticket to Detroit.

Of course, during the create-a-character section at the beginning of the game, he makes it far more like a makeup and fashion tutorial than it needs to be, but the subscribers come to his channel for the content he produces, so he should probably stay on brand.

When he uploads the video, which is mostly him being a disaster and making all the datable characters dislike him (which, how? There’s only three dialogue options at a time, so how does he always choose the wrong one?), he tags it with Yuuri’s channel and Phichit’s name. He also tags them both in his Instagram post promoting his new upload, just in case.

Two days later and the video has done moderately well with just about average metrics for his usual videos, and Yuri has texted him telling him to chill the fuck out and not to tag anyone he knows in videos again.

I thought you didn’t watch anything I post, Viktor sends. He gets several messages of just middle finger emojis in response.

Viktor still hasn’t heard from Yuuri, though, so he doesn’t quite count it as a success.

He foregoes a video game upload for the next week, uploading instead a few Halloween makeup tutorials. He has fun doing them, though Makkachin isn’t overly fond of posing as Viktor’s sidekick for some of the shots. The makeup videos do better than the video game one, but that usually happens around this time of year anyway. His old tutorials are getting more views lately, too, so he can’t really be disheartened by it, but he really wants an excuse to post another video game video.

After a few days, Viktor has still heard nothing from Yuuri, but he tries not to dwell on it. He knows it’s competition season, and he knows exactly how much energy Yuuri doesn’t have to spend on social media.

He also knows exactly when Yuuri’s performances are, because he has alarms set to watch them live. He plans on taking a midday nap today so that he’ll stay awake for the performance that Yuuri has just after midnight.

Viktor considers making a video of him reacting to watching Yuuri’s performances, but he decides that’s too weird.

(He’s glad he doesn’t, because it might be too revealing how enthusiastically Viktor cheers when Yuuri lands a quad loop in free.)

The day after Yuuri’s free program, Viktor posts a picture to his Instagram story wishing Otabek a happy birthday, which immediately ends up on Otabek’s own story with a “thank you” and nothing else.

Yuuri still doesn’t contact Viktor, which, okay, he never said he would, but he did say he would be skating for him, which seems like it should mean something. But apparently not, which is totally fine with Viktor, absolutely.

Viktor should have gotten Yuri’s number.

The week before the Rostelecom Cup, Viktor uploads a video of him playing another simulator. This time, he designs a house for simulated versions of himself and Makkachin and Yuri and Yuri’s cats, then purposely makes Yuri a bad at everything and prone to burning things down by accident. He tags Yuri’s art channel in it.

(“You’re not funny,” Yuri says when he calls Viktor.

“Maybe not to you,” Viktor says, thrilled by how furious Yuri is that he can’t hit Viktor through the phone. “I made you pretty, at least.”

“You gave me purple eyeshadow, Viktor. What’s the point of being a makeup artist if you’re going to give people purple eyeshadow. Fuck you.”)

Yuuri doesn’t respond to this video, either, but a new upload does go up on his channel two days later. In it, Phichit is playing the same simulator, finding creative and horrible ways to kill his characters until Yuuri walks in, horrified.

“Phichit! Stop drowning people!”

Not only does Phichit not stop drowning people, he also tries to flirt with the grim reaper.

Viktor is inspired. His version of the video, where he and Yuri compete to the death but Yuri loses almost every time, is uploaded and tagged with Phichit and Yuuri the morning before Rostelecom.

Which is perfect, because Viktor has a train to Moscow to catch.

Viktor had just wanted to see a competition again, that’s all. Since his accident, he hasn’t seen a live competition, and he thinks it’s about time that he accepts that the figure skating world was going to move on without him one day, anyway.

It’s absolutely just a coincidence that Katsuki Yuuri happens to be competing at the one he chooses to go to.

It makes sense, of course, that if Viktor was going to drop money on tickets to a competition it would be the one in Moscow. His parents still live there, after all, so it’s a great place for him to spend a few days. It also just so happens to be that Yuuri’s final qualifier before the final is the Rostelecom Cup. And that Viktor only bought tickets to the men’s singles events.

Viktor has another old friend from his years in competition here, too, so it just makes sense that he would come to this event.

He drops his bags at his parents’ apartment, then goes to breathe in Moscow. He doesn’t come here nearly enough.

Almost immediately after posting a picture from his favorite cafe in the Moscow twilight, Vikor receives a call from Yuri.

“The fuck are you doing in Moscow?”

“The heck are you doing awake?” Viktor asks, matching his energy and mocking his tone.

“I have a class in an hour, don’t avoid the question. Why are you in Moscow?”

“I can’t just visit home?” Viktor asks cheerily. “You should do it more often, Yura, mom and dad would love to have you around, and I’m sure your grandfather would love to see you, too.”

“You pay for my plane tickets, then. But I know you aren’t visiting home, asshole, so what the fuck are you doing?”

Viktor sighs exaggeratedly. “Well, if you must know, Chris is competing here in the morning, and I thought it might be nice to visit him.”

Yuri is quiet for a moment. “...no,” he finally says.

“No what?”

“Beka was right,” he says, which Viktor really wishes he could have recorded to keep forever.

“What?” it takes Viktor a second to catch up, realizing that by that pig Yuri means Yuuri and not Chris, by which point, Yuri is already blazing on.

“He said he saw you two being all gross and stuff when I fell asleep but I ignored him, Yuuri is just an idiot when he’s drunk—well, he’s always an idiot, but you know, more of an idiot—he tried to challenge me to a dance battle once, so I really thought that even if you were being all gross and stuff, any dancing really would have stopped this from becoming a thing, because his dancing is terrible, but no, you really do have a thing for that dumb pig, don’t you?”

Yuri clearly isn’t asking the question for an answer, but he does make the mistake of pausing for breath, during which Viktor takes the time to say as brightly as possible, “maybe if you didn’t get so drunk that you passed out on your boyfriend, you could have stopped this from happening!”

Viktor waits just long enough to hear Yuri’s spluttered “what—we’re not—” before hanging up on him.

Viktor is at the event early the next morning, hoping to use the time before the competition actually starts to get used to the feel of a rink again. It isn’t as bad he expected. Hearing the familiar announcements and the scrape of blades on ice and the click of blades landing after jumps fills him with more nostalgia than anything else.

From his seat in the stands, he manages to get a somewhat-blurry picture of the men’s warmups that has both Chris and Yuuri in it, though not super clearly. He accompanies it with other pictures of the stadium when he hears a few concerned noises from some of the people milling around him. When he turns, he sees Yuuri righting himself after having clearly fallen on the ice.

Viktor goes still, looking for any of the telltale signs of significant injury, but Yuuri seems fine, though a little out of his head. Viktor watches for another quiet minute until the announcement clearing skaters from the ice sounds.

He wants to watch all of the performers, but he has time before either Yuuri or Chris goes on, so he takes a second to post his pictures to Instagram. I’ve missed this, he captions the shots of the ice and the advertisements and the kiss-and-cry, the last picture in the group being the one he took of the warmups. He tags both Yuuri and Chris in it.

After the short program, Yuuri ends up in fourth, Chris in second, with some younger kid that skates like ice all over the world belongs to him is in first.

When he’s in his old, tiny bed in his parents’ house that evening, considering whether he should move some of the stuff in Yuri’s room around just to piss him off when he comes back for his winter holidays, Viktor absentmindedly checks Instagram for the thirtieth time that day. He had already had an entire conversation with Chris in the comments section of his post determining that they would meet up at the end of the event before Chris’s flight leaves, and Viktor is actually looking forward to seeing him in person for the first time in several years.

In his notifications is an almost-insignificant sentence telling him that Yuuri has liked his post.

Before the free skate the next day, Yuuri doesn’t flub any of his practice jumps, and Viktor spots him chatting comfortably with his coach for a moment just before the first skater takes the ice.

Viktor’s phone buzzes in his hand with a message from Yuri. stop being gross, it says. When he looks up again, Yuuri is gone.

Yuuri performs beautifully when it’s his turn, and he cries at the kiss-and-cry when his scores are announced. He’s pretty much guaranteed a spot in the final.

Chris also snags a spot in the final, but that’s no surprise. He’s made it to every final for the past four years. That doesn’t stop Viktor from giving him a bouquet when he finds him after the event.

“Congratulations, Chris!”

“Thank you,” he says as he absentmindedly touches the silver medal around his neck. “It hasn’t been the same without you. How have you been? I haven’t seen you in so long.”

“I’ve been doing really well,” Viktor says, actually somewhat surprised with the accuracy of it, then beams at Chris. “Is it different because it’s easier for you to medal with me gone?”

Chris smirks back at him. “I would have beaten you eventually,” he says. “Come on, let me go change and drop this off at the hotel before we go out.”

“At least take me to dinner first,” Viktor says, and he’d forgotten how easy being friends with Chris was.

“I’m trying,” Chris says with a wink, and Viktor laughs with his whole body. He can’t believe he may have let these sorts of friendships die.

They make easy banter on the way back to the hotel, talking as if barely any time has passed at all, and Viktor realizes, somewhat sadly, that when you travel as much as he used to for competitions, maybe four years isn’t really that big of a gap when you only see someone three or four times a year anyway.

The doors to the hotel elevator are closing when Viktor sees someone approaching. He sticks his foot in the doorway to stop it from closing while continuing his conversation with Chris, who turns to greet the newcomer.

“Yuuri! Congratulations!”

“You, too. Thanks, Chris,” Yuuri says genuinely, eyes a little puffy from crying, but clearly in a good way. He turns and looks at Viktor as the elevator doors close. “Oh.”

“Congrats, Yuuri! I’ll watch you at the final!” Viktor says. He isn’t sure how else to make it clear that he’s here specifically because of Yuuri.

“Thank you,” Yuuri says, quieter than before.

“Yuuri, we’re going to dinner after I drop some things off in my room,” Chris tells him. “Would you like to join us?”

“Oh, uh,” Yuuri says, looking down, then back and forth between Chris and Viktor. “Um, yeah, that would be nice,” he decides as the doors open on his floor.

“Meet in the lobby in twenty!” Chris says as Yuuri steps off the elevator.

“Yeah,” Yuuri gets out before the doors close.

The elevator is quiet for a moment, then Chris breaks it with, “You know him.” It’s not a question.

“I do,” Viktor agrees easily.

“How?”

“He trains where Yura goes to school,” Viktor says. “They know each other.”

“Hm.” Chris is quiet until the elevator dings their arrival to his floor. “You like him,” Chris says.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Viktor says, extremely grateful to be getting off the elevator. He walks forward and out of the small alcove the elevators are housed in, then realizes he has no idea which direction he needs to go. He stops.

Behind him, Christophe snorts. “Sure. Left.”

Viktor turns and starts walking.

“He likes you, too,” Chris says.

“What was that?” Viktor asks in Russian. “I don’t speak English.”

Chris switches to French for a few colorful phrases, then back to English. “You’ll see him in a few minutes anyway, so you’ll figure it out,” he says, finally stepping in front of Viktor. “Here, it’s this one,” he says as he stops in front of a door.

“I’m not the one who needs to figure it out,” he says, then pushes Chris into the room. “Get yourself together so we can go, hurry up.”

“Easy,” Chris says, but obliges anyway.

When they get back downstairs, Yuuri is already waiting for them.

“Hey, Yuuri,” Chris says easily. “Is there anything in particular you want to eat? Viktor is from around here, so just let him know and he’ll take us to a place.”

“Uh, no, not really,” Yuuri says. “I kind of just want to try whatever local thing is best.”

“Do you mind a little bit of a walk?” Viktor asks them both, who both shake their heads no. “Okay, perfect. I know a great traditional place a little less than twenty minutes from here.”

Five minutes into their walk there, Chris pats his pockets. “Damn,” he says, “I think I left my wallet upstairs. I’m going to go grab it, you two go on without me! I’ll meet you there!”

“Are you sure? We could walk back with you, it isn’t that far,” Yuuri offers.

“No, it’s fine! Viktor, can you message me the place?”

Viktor glares at him but agrees as Chris takes off back towards the hotel. “Give me a second,” he tells Yuuri as he pulls up the location of the restaurant and shares it with Chris. “Okay.”

They walk in silence for a second before Yuuri asks, “How have you been?”

“Oh, great!” Viktor says genuinely. “I’m working on some new things for the channel that combine my usual stuff with other media, and I’m enjoying it a lot. How are you?”

“Yeah, I’ve seen some of that,” Yuuri says vaguely, “and I’m really good. Nervous. Excited about the final.”

“Nervous?” Viktor asks as his phone buzzes in his hand. “Oh, that—” he cuts himself off as he looks at Chris’s message.

Definitely didn’t leave my wallet, it reads, but you can tell him I think I left it at rink. Good luck! ;)

“What’s going on?” Yuuri asks.

“Chris is an idiot.”

“What happened?” Yuuri seems genuinely concerned.

“He left his wallet at the rink,” Viktor says, surprising himself. The smile he gives Yuuri is far too wide and is brittle at the edges. He’s going to kill Chris. “He says to go on without him.”

“Oh.”

“Do you just want to go back?” Viktor asks. Yuuri had agreed to dinner with Chris, after all, and not with him.

“No! It’s okay,” Yuuri says. “Let’s keep moving, it’s cold.”

“How’s Yuri?” Yuuri asks after another few moments of walking in silence.

“You tell me,” Viktor says. “You see him more than I do.”

“Just because I see him more doesn’t mean I talk to him more. He trusts you.”

Viktor sighs. “I hope so. He doesn’t always tell me how he is when he calls, but I think he’s doing well. He’s got more friends than he did when he was growing up, and he complains about the classes, which means he’s actually learning something.” Viktor pauses for a moment, considering. “Can you do me a favor?”

“Yeah?”

“If you ever notice Yuri acting way off, can you let me know? I mean,” Viktor interrupts himself, “you don’t have to, like, keep tabs on him or anything, but if you ever notice something really wrong.”

“I mean, of course,” Yuuri says, “but I won’t have to.”

Viktor looks over at him. “What do you mean?”

Yuuri stops walking. “You know, the night I met you, Yuri kept glancing over at you, and at first I thought it was because he didn’t want you there because he’s around his friends and suddenly you’re there, but then I realized that he was looking out for you.” He pauses like he’s waiting for Viktor to say something, and when he doesn’t, he continues, “he made sure to angle himself so you were always included in the group and everything.”

“Huh,” Viktor says, and he smiles softly at the idea of Yuri trying to be protective.

“And Viktor,” Yuuri says, suddenly more serious. “I’ve seen that video of when he tells you that he’s officially your adopted brother.” It’s been almost a year since Viktor posted that video, but it’s still his favorite. “Why do you think he went through that trouble with your parents when he was already seventeen? He didn’t have to do that, and I’m sure no one could have forced him to if he didn’t want to. But he surprised you with it. Because he wants you to know that he loves you, and he trusts you, and he wants you in his life.”

At that, Viktor laughs. “Try telling him that,” he says. “Make sure Phichit sends me the video of Yura beating you to death when you do.”

Yuuri smiles. “But you see what I mean, right?” he says, then turns to keep walking. “Don’t worry about him too much. If he needs you, he’ll let you know. In his own way.”

“Yeah,” Viktor agrees. “Can I ask you a different favor, then?” He feels Yuuri’s slightly concerned glance, then continues, “even if you aren’t letting me know how he’s doing, call me sometime?”

“Oh, uh.” Yuuri shuffles a little as he walks, looking at the ground. “Yeah,” he says. “I’d like that.”

Yuuri’s flight is early the next morning, but they spend several long hours of the night staying up, talking about how different their lives are now than what they expected years ago, about the things they enjoy that aren’t their professions, about the music they’ve been listening to on repeat and what food they’re most excited to eat when they get home. They talk through the restaurant and shops and all the way back to Yuuri’s hotel room, where they settle in and talk more.

Viktor finally leaves Yuuri’s room about three hours before Yuuri needs to leave for his flight.

“Text me when you land,” Viktor tells him, leaning his forehead against Yuuri’s and breathing him in.

“I will.”

“Fly safe,” Viktor says as he pulls away from Yuuri, then brings Yuuri’s hand to his mouth and gently kisses his knuckles. “I’ll be sure to watch you at the final.”

It’s a full day later before Viktor receives confirmation that Yuuri has made it to Detroit, but he doesn’t mind that. It’s worth it for the picture he gets of a jetlagged Yuuri with Yuri, Otabek, and Phichit in the background with a big banner that says “Congratulations, Yuuri!” Phichit has a tinier sheet of paper that, thanks two a second photo that comes in, Viktor can see says, “On gettin’ the guy!”

Yuuri sends one final picture of Yuri making a gross face at Phichit’s smaller poster, and he loves it. Absolutely worth the wait.

#HotaruYuki #mrscalculation #gifts19 #YOIsanta19 #fanfic #victuuri #victor nikiforov #yuuri katsuki #Yuri!!! on Ice

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piroco · 5 years

Text

What The Heart Seeks

Status: Complete (One-shot) Word Count: 1042 Rating: General Pairing: Yuuri Katsuki/Viktor Nikiforov Tags:Fluff, Light Angst, Sulky Yuuri, Unbeta’d, Wrote this during a blackout Warning: None AO3 Link: Here

For @circlewalkerhk! (Sorry for the late posting ^^;;)

With an Olympic gold and a kiss from his fiancée, Yuuri Katsuki bids goodbye to competitive figure skating.

It had been a struggle, a final goal, a promise he made to see the end of his career from the same podium Viktor had stood from five times in the past. Even as Yuuri himself steadily lost hope, his promise and Viktor's continuous support had steeled Yuuri's resolve, and finally he succeeded.

And now... He didn't know what to do.

It's not like Yuuri was unhappy — quite the opposite, this was the culmination of years of blood, sweat and tears upon the ice. But now that he'd passed this lifelong milestone, this incredible feat that had defined the last years of his life, this unbreakable oath he'd made to his lover and idol, Yuuri saw the future stretch in front of him and only felt uncertainty.

In the past — before Yuuri's Olympic triumph, before Viktor, before his disastrous performance at the GPF that almost led to a premature end for his career — if anyone asked Yuuri what did he want to make of his life, he would've given them a clear answer. He didn't have any kind of extraordinary wish then: Success in his career so he could provide for his family, pay them back for having always supported him; afterwards he would care for his parents, take over the onsen alongside Mari, dedicate himself to ensuring it ran as efficiently as possible. If Yuuri was successful enough, it could help him promote the onsen. He would also do what he could to help Yuuko and her family — maybe teach the triplets, since they seemed invested in skating as he and Yuuko had been. Maybe he would fall in love on the way, start a family of his own...

In the past, that is what Yuuri believed to be what he wanted for his life.

But it didn't happen like that. He fell on the way, almost destroyed his hopes, and it was his worst failure that led Yuuri to redefine what he wanted, all thanks to one irreverent Russian that had been his greatest inspiration, and who became the love of his life. And while Yuuri didn't regret this turn of fate in the slightest, he found that instead of happiness, the culmination of his' and Viktor's careers only left him feeling lost.

He should be happy, why wasn't he?

It must have shown in his face, because during a lull in the banquet celebrations Viktor took him aside, away from the other guests and towards somewhere quieter.

"Yuuri, is something wrong?" Viktor asked, worry evident in his expression.

Yuuri, who was still somewhat anxious from having so many people prying him for attention — being the year's champion and all — and who was until a few seconds ago ruminating on his anguish, was caught off-guard by the question and could only stutter out "W-what?"

"Are you feeling alright?" Viktor asked again before adding, "I thought you would be happy after your victory, but you look pained... Are you feeling sick?"

"N-No, no, it's not that." Yuuri quickly rectified. "It's... Viktor, are you happy?"

It was Viktor's turn to be surprised. "Of course I am! Yuuri, you won gold today! You've been training and trying so long for this and you finally did it."

Then he added in a cheekier voice, "And although I only won silver I'm still your coach so it's like a double victory~"

Yuuri chuckled a little at that, "I guess it is. It's... I should be happy right now, anyone else would be if they were in my position but I'm just... not."

Viktor's expression immediately softens. "Why?" He ask, in a tone that Yuuri recognizes from many times in the past, a tone that doesn't so much convey a question as it does a plea, Please talk to me.

So he does.

"I... I thought that, after winning, after I had my gold and we could get properly married, it would be the best moment of my life, and everything else would just fall in order after that, but... I don't know why, I just feel uncertain. Nothing is like I thought it would be, I don't feel like I thought I would. So what do I do now?"

Viktor steps closer, brushing Yuuri's bangs between his fingers. "You know, I used to feel like that too, some years ago. When the novelty of my first gold wore off, when I won my fourth and then fifth one and felt nothing, when I realized how lonely I truly was..."

Then he's carding his fingers through Yuuri's black hair, mussing it a bit, and Yuuri leans into the touch, closing his eyes and focusing on his hearing, attentive to Viktor's words.

"Sometimes I still feel like that, but then I look at you and the feeling goes away." Yuuri hears the smile in his voice.

A beat of silence passes, Yuuri doesn't interrupt, sensing that Viktor is collecting his thoughts, looking for an answer to give. It takes but a few seconds before he speaks again. "What a mean is that, there's nothing wrong with feeling lost when you think you should be happy instead, and that maybe happiness isn't so easily defined for others."

That was half an answer, as for the other half...

"So, what do I do then?" Yuuri opens his eyes and asks, or rather, proposes, "What do we do then?"

And Viktor smile is radiant, "We look for it. We're retiring with our biggest achievements, what we do from now on is up to us. Of course we'll get married first. We'll have an amazing honeymoon that will have the tabloids in a frenzy, then we could pick somewhere nice to move in, and adopt many more siblings for Makka. And if you don't feel happy with any of that, then we'll set out to find what makes you happy. We have all the time in the world now."

And isn't that a nice thought? A gentle smile creeps upon Yuuri's face, something blooms inside him; maybe it's not happiness, maybe it's something else, but still he lets himself be wrapped in its warmth and filled with it he responds.

"I'd like that."

#my fics #yuri on ice #viktuuri #commission #one shot

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yoificfinder · 3 years

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Hi! I was wondering if you would be able to find some time travel/time loop AUs where Victor and Yuuri (and other members of the YoI cast) are thrown around in time please? Thank you so much!

Hi! These are some time travel fics (mix of both canonverse and AUs) I read and enjoyed:

Previous rec of time travel fics where they meet their other self in the other timeline

a great desire to love by lily_winterwood / @omgkatsudonplease [T, 22K]

For some strange, inexplicable, fantastic reason, Yuuri Katsuki and Viktor Nikiforov are trading places. Kimi no Na wa AU.

All Our Yesterdays by @kitsunebi-uk [E, 102K]

York, England, 2120: Yuuri Katsuki is a dime-a-dozen techie, spending his days doing routine repairs at the university. He hangs out with his friend Phichit, goes for a drink, watches holograms. It’s an existence – but is it a life?

Crowood Castle, Yorkshire, 1392: As the son of a baron, Sir Victor Nikiforov makes judgements where lives hang in the balance. As a knight, he must sometimes end them. It’s what he was born to do – but what of the heavy burden on his soul? Death is all too commonplace, while life and love remain elusive.

When a brilliant scientist goes rogue, journeying to the Middle Ages with the world’s first time machine, Yuuri is stunned to be called on as the last hope of preventing her from changing history. After an abrupt departure, he lands at Crowood Castle disguised as an enemy of the Nikiforovs, Sir Justin le Savage – and will need to act the part if he is to survive. It’s a tall order for someone who can barely tell the back end of a horse from the front. But if Ailis, in her own disguise, discovers who he is, his mission will end in a blaze of laser-gun fire. He must not give his real identity away, even to the beguiling knight he’s falling in love with…

Elevators Out of Order by mtothedestiel [E, 31K] *WIP

A Kate and Leopold AU. In 1876, Victor Nikiforov is a handsome duke with an inventive imagination and a dwindling fortune. The search for a wealthy bride brings him to America, and the capital of progress, New York City. Can an encounter with a mysterious stranger offer Victor a future he never dreamed of?

Meanwhile in 2017, physicist turned paper-pusher Yuuri Katsuki is just trying to get through the day, which is tough enough without surprise phone calls from his roommate announcing he has a 19th-century aristocrat out cold on their sofa.

To top things off, it would seem every elevator in Manhattan is suddenly out of order. What a coincidence.

Here Once and Back Again by Cbear2470 [E, 77K] *WIP *Major Character Death

“What?” was all Yuuri could say as a numbness froze over his body.

Something—something wasn’t right. It was then he realized he couldn’t remember getting to the rink. He couldn’t remember even stepping on the ice to start his program.

He couldn’t remember.

He tried to remember.

As Yuuri is skating his free skate, he knows something is off. But, he brushes it aside, too focused on executing the program flawlessly.

It isn't until after it's all over that Yuuri comes to discover that he just skated his gold-medal winning, record-breaking program at the 2014-15 Grand Prix Final in Sochi. The very same final Yuuri had once upon a time placed last in over two years ago.

here's to the glory still to be by @foxfireflamequeen [Not Rated, 12K]

“Hi,” says Viktor, smile bright and camera-ready. His hand, when he extends it, is small and delicate. “I think you know who I am, but we haven’t met.”

His accent is very thick, very Russian in a way Yuri has never heard before. He looks from the offered hand to Viktor’s face, barely an inch higher, and tracks his hair, long and pale and spilling over his shoulders. He can’t be older than, well, Yuri.

“No,” says Yuri. “We haven’t.”

in another dimension series by @alykapediaaa [T, 8K]

Summary of first fic in the series

Entertainment >> Celebrity News

Viktor Nikiforov: Finally Found!

SOMERSET – Russian model Viktor Nikiforov, 27, who has been declared missing last May of this year was finally found earlier today. Nikiforov, known as the face of luxury brand Stammi Vicino, was vacationing at Bath, Somerset after a successful season when he suddenly disappeared, leaving all of his belongings, as well as his poodle, behind. Yakov Feltsman, Nikiforov’s manager, has yet to release a statement. Read More.

Life Unwoven by ayn2390 [M, 23K] *Indefinite Hiatus

Five-Time Consecutive Grand Prix Final Winner Katsuki Yuuri meets Five-Time Consecutive Grand Prix Final Winner Victor Nikiforov.

or,

In which things are tangled, and untangled, and tangled again. And Victor will always be there to save Yuuri.

Maelstrom by @feels-like-fire [E, 44K]

Victor Nikiforov is poised to win gold in his fifth consecutive Grand Prix Final. He has the world at his feet, is unparalleled in the sport--right up until a snowstorm blows into Sochi, and he finds himself repeating the same day over and over and over. He stumbles over Yuuri Katsuki, and everything changes.

(Or, the time loop au. Loosely based on Groundhog Day.)

On My Love by RikoJasmine [T, 73K] *WIP

For the second time, the Sochi Grand Prix Finals arrive, and with it a reborn Yuuri Katsuki. “Viktor,” Yuuri thinks over the pounding of his heart, the crowd going silent as the music begins. “I’ll show the world what you meant to me.”

Yuuri often thinks of his life as Before and After Viktor Nikiforov, the marking point being the day Viktor swept into his life and turned his world upside-down. After many years together, an accident leads to Yuuri suddenly waking up in the Before—back in Detroit, before the GPF, before he ever knew Viktor as anything other than his childhood idol.

As if it had all been just a dream.

paso doble by @cafecliche [G, 4K]

"Long before skating, or even ballet, Yuuri would hear about it at festivals, in the boiling humidity of Hasetsu summers dancing the Bon Odori in the streets. He remembered years where Mari would take him home alone, while their parents comforted lingering, distraught dancers. Sometimes, Mari had explained, they were crying because they’d seen lost loved ones. Some cried because they didn’t see who they’d hoped, but a stranger. And some cried because they hadn’t seen anyone at all.

Because it’s not just the steps. The dancers need, even for a second, to feel the exact same thing."

(Or: days before Hot Springs on Ice, Yuuri receives a visitor from another time.)

The League of the Green Carnation by @abarero [M, 62K]

There was one golden rule to being a Time Scientist: do not bring home anything that was a fixed point in history. This meant most artifacts, extinct animals and the like were permissible. Historical figures? Not so much.

But what about an author? Namely, Yuuri’s favorite author, who was murdered in 1887. Could he be saved?

Well. Yuuri was sure as hell about to find out.

Turn Back the Clock by IronScript [T, 59K] *WIP

When Yuuri and Viktor wake up over thirty years in the past, they don't know what to do. Does the other remember?

Luckily that particular question is quickly answered and they can relax slightly, but what about afterwards? Viktor was brought back to right before his first Olympics, and Yuuri isn’t even old enough to compete in Seniors’!

Then there's the fact that they're still very much in love, but a physical relationship would be illegal (and would gross them both out considering Yuuri's age), and they can't count on anyone to just trust them not to do anything age inappropriate. So maybe being long-distance (with as many in-person meetings as possible) would be better until Yuuri becomes a legal adult physically, never mind his actual age.

But it's hard to behave and act naturally when you're forced to be apart from your husband of twenty years, especially during one of the most stressful parts of anyone's life, so Yuuri and Viktor have to distract themselves somehow, right?

Right.

And if everyone around them ends up completely confused and blindsided at their sudden changes (though admittedly they seem to have changed for the better), then so be it!

#yoi #yuri on ice #yoi fanfic #yoi fic rec #time travel

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yoyoplisetsky · 5 years

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HELLLOOOOOO WELCOME TO “CARY ACTUALLY WROTE SOMETHING!?!?” feat. a little i will go down with this ship! story about the “real” viktor nikiforov

this fic asks you to disregard a little bit of canon. we all change things in our creative decisions, of course! nothing too major ;) i’ve changed and grown a lot since i started writing iwgdwts

but! the moment y’all have been waiting for! i thought it would be best to reveal in a small drabble on tumblr bc y’all are great and it’s been so long since i posted yoi fic so you deserved something fun and exciting!!!

“Are you sure I should do this?” Yuuri mumbled, resting his head against Viktor’s shoulder. He had been thinking about it for a while, ever since he and Viktor had started dating. He kept talking to Vik, and Viktor encouraged it.

“Of course!” Viktor mused, kissing Yuuri’s hair softly. “You’ve gotten really close to her, right? I think it would be fun! I’ll come with you, we can tell her that we both like the fics. It’s cute!”

“Most people would find it creepy, Vitya,” Yuuri laughed.

“She’s never done anything rude. She’s always very sweet and gives you the love you deserve. And her fics are great. We should meet ‘therealviknik’.” Viktor always put airquotes around Vik’s username because he thought that it was hilarious that someone online was claiming to really be him (at least, by URL).

Viktor, of course, wasn’t Vik.

That was a frankly laughable scenario. The kind that Vik would write in her fanfiction. The shocking, romantic kind that would take her a thousand years between each update because she can’t decide what will make the chapter the best and gets buried in other work and other ideas. The kind that Yuuri and thousands (unbelievably, amazingly, something that Vik would eternally be incredibly grateful for) of people would read.

It’s not the kind of thing that would happen in real life.

Yuuri swallowed and opened up tumblr.

katsukiforov: hey vik!

katsukiforov: i was thinking, and i know this is weird after all the anonymity and stuff, but i was thinking maybe… we could meet up?

katsukiforov: i get if you don’t want to!!! it’s a really weird request and sort of out of the blue…

katsukiforov: i just think … i should probably tell you about myself in person haha…

therealviknik: omg!!!! you want to meet? jsdalkfsa;;

therealviknik: i’m outta school rn and not working yet so i’m super free!!! are you coming here or there or

katsukiforov: i… don’t know where you are, but i can come to you. i don’t want you to have to pay for the trip when it was my idea

katuskiforov: plus my boyfriend wants to come with me and so he’ll find it fun to go somewhere new

therealviknik: i mean ohio is boring as Hell but you’re definitely welcome to come visit :)

therealviknik: i’ll show you the best of ohio ;)

therealviknik: so all of like… three things

katsukiforov: you’re in ohio, then?

therealviknik: 22 years here the real question is when am i Not in ohio asjldfas;;

Yuuri laughed at the messages and kept talking until he’d gathered a good date to meet up with Vik and the specific city in Ohio where she lived.

It was weirdly exciting, actually, that he was going to meet Vik. He’d pictured her a lot over the years of talking to her. He’d gotten what he thought was a pretty good image.

She never posted selfies, but he knew that she was in a wheelchair after many conversations about her frustrations with broken motors and dumb stories (like her tripping over it at 1 in the morning because she decided to push it with her feet instead of her hands).

She liked ants, loved Viktor, mostly owned the color purple, would die for Ant-Man, and had a lizard named Smaug, among other things.

And he was going to meet her in Ohio.

He supposed that explained the time that she edited Viktor’s face onto corncobs at like 3am. When he’d been in college in Detroit, he’d driven to multiple cities in Ohio (since it really wasn’t that far at all, driving from Ohio to Detroit was completely reasonable for a musical you really want to see, or something like that). And, well… once you got past Toledo, Ohio was pretty much all the same.

Corn.

Still, he was excited to go since it meant meeting Vik. Nervous, but Viktor did his best to help Yuuri keep his nerves down.

Before he knew it, he was in the airport, a ticket to Ohio in hand. He checked tumblr one last time before he boarded, sending a video of a lizard chasing after some crickets to Vik before messaging.

katsukiforov: getting on the plane now

therealviknik: !!!

therealviknik: i am So Hype kat omg jaslkdfas;;

therealviknik: i’ll be at the airport!

therealviknik: i’m the one in the wheelchair and the ant-man shirt probably Still crying about this lizard jsakldfas;;

katsukiforov: knew you’d like that one

katsukiforov: see you soon!

Yuuri turned off the phone as he stepped onto the plane. He tapped his fingers against his leg the whole ride, trying to keep breathing. This would be fine. Vik would probably freak out, but hopefully she’d be cool about it and not like… totally go crazy.

The plane landed and Yuuri went to gather his luggage before he could look for Vik. He held tight to the handle of his suitcase, each step feeling like a thousand as he approached.

There were a bunch of people in the airport, but after a second he was pretty sure that he saw her.

A girl sat there, pink earphones plugged into her phone as she watched some video, lost to the world. From the reflection in her purple and blue framed glasses, Yuuri was pretty sure it was something about… ants?

If the wheelchair and Ant-Man shirt weren’t dead giveaways that she’d told him herself¸ then crying about a video about ants in a crowded airport certainly would be.

That had to be Vik.

He walked up to her and she looked up, taking a second to untangle her earphone from her long and unruly ponytail. Her eyes widened as she made eye contact, opening and closing her mouth a few times before settling on just staring.

Yuuri awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck. “Um… Vik?”

“Oh my god,” Vik whispered, staring up at him. She set her phone down (and, yes, she was definitely watching some video about ants). “Yeah, but you can call me Cary. Wait, are you serious? Are you Kat?”

“Sorry,” Yuuri groaned, covering his face. “I know it’s weird.”

Cary waved her hands and her wheelchair started to move before she yelped, tapping her wrist against her leg with an awkward look. “I forgot my motor actually was working, sorry,” she laughed before looking up at him again. “Are you telling me that Yuuri Katsuki has read my fics?”

“I know it’s weird,” Yuuri repeated, groaning. “This is why I thought it would be better to tell you in person.”

“It’s super weird,” Cary said, fiddling with the end of her hair before shaking her head. “Oh my god,” she whispered, laughing softly. “Yuuri Katsuki sends me videos of lizards that make me cry because they’re so cute.”

Then her eyes hardened, glaring at him.

That wasn’t what he expected. Of course, it wasn’t entirely unexpected, considering the fact that he had lied to her, but he had sort of… expected that to be the first reaction, not some follow-up. “My characterization is great, thank you very much!” she finally said and Yuuri stared at her.

“It is, Viktor and I have joked that you write like you actually know us and – “

“No,” Cary cut in. “You kept commenting about how I made Yuuri too good at stuff. You’re amazing, and you deserve everything I give you in fics. Shut up.”

“Oh.” Yuuri stared at her, his eyes wide. He was never great at taking compliments, but he’d gotten used to them from Vik, even though she hadn’t known directly that she was complimenting him before… “Thank you?”

“You’re welcome,” Cary said, crossing her arms over her chest before her face filled with a bright smile. “I still can’t believe it’s you. Oh my god. Lily and I were thinking about getting a photoshoot with you and Viktor at a convention together, and we wouldn’t have even known.”

“You’re… not going to tell anyone, right? I know I’ve dropped out of the fandom quite a bit since me and Viktor started dating, but I just… want to make sure that no one knows.”

“Let it out, and lose you online? No way! Your secret is safe with me,” Cary smiled, tapping her hand against her wheel. The motor turned on, rolling smoothly though making an odd clicking noise. Judging by past descriptions of the motor, he assumed it was almost pristine with only a small noise. Yuuri walked after her, having to walk a bit too quickly to keep up.

“Thank you,” he said gratefully, smiling at her. “I’d miss talking to you too. It’s weird. Phichit is totally open with who he is online, but I just… this is better.”

“Oh, especially. Wouldn’t want everyone finding out about you reading the weird stuff.” Cary turned to him and winked.

The weirdest thing he read was the time that she wrote a fic for her own birthday that featured him turning into a lizard at the full moon and keeping ants. He was pretty sure that no one would care about the “weird stuff.” He didn’t want to read any of the weird stuff.

They walked in almost silence for a little bit before Cary slammed her hand against her wheel, effectively stopping her motor. Cary glanced at Yuuri, a shockingly shy look on her face. “Wait if you’re Yuuri, does that mean when you said your boyfriend is coming, that means…” Cary trailed off, staring at him with wide eyes.

Right. Of course. That little detail was one she’d latch onto. Cary, as much as she wrote about both of them, had a habit to focus on Viktor and often posted compliments about him only. “Viktor’s showing up tomorrow.”

“Oh my god.” Yuuri could only describe the noise that Cary made as a shriek, her eyes wide and excited. Yuuri laughed, shaking his head. “Look, I love you, I love your love, you know I love that, but Viktor Nikiforov is my life.”

“I would have never known,” Yuuri laughed. Between Cary’s icon, blog description, URL, and everything else, her love of Viktor was hardly a secret.

He could relate.

After all, wasn’t that part of why he’d loved her fics?

happy april fool’s day

i love you i’m gonna have a real update eventually i promise ajskldfa;;

#thishasbeencary #my fic #i will go down with this ship!#pls appreciate the lengths i went to to keep this Relatively in character

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e1ana · 5 years

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leisure writing :)

recently by brain has been all AHHHHHHDHHBSGDVJHS BCHJNNH and its really negatively impacted my writing, especially for my fics :(

i’ve decided to go on a short hiatus for them for a bit to let my brain catch up. i’ve just been writing random stuff and letting it go in a n y direction to give my brain break and i think??? this might??? be the best?????? decision ive ever made????? my brain just feels so un-fried. its awesome.

so far it seems to be taking the shape of a YoI fic? idk. I just finished the show for the second time and i absolutely love it! I guess by brain’s been wired on Yuri!!! for a bit now so i’m not surprised at the direction its headed.

i’m still letting it go in any direction though, and i’m not sure if im going to put it up in a03 (i might if i decide i like it, but im not working on it with the intent of uploading it.)

so yeah. here’s the first bit of that. i though i’d upload it on here just bc i can and idk what else to do with it. hope you enjoy :) rating is teen bc of some cursing but thats it

(korkad means stupid in swedish)

Rain.

It wasn’t a loud sound - just the gentle pitter-patter of it against a window can paint a room in a quiet, soothing blanket of white noise. Viktor Nikiforov buries himself further in his comforter. Mid April drizzles really were something else.

Begrudgingly, VIktor pulls himself from his bed. He looks out of his beside window to find a sunset that perfectly matched with the serene morning rain.

He yawns and stretches, a soft grumble coming from his lips. He stands up and walks to his kitchen. Every morning is practically the same - wake up, debate going back to sleep, brush teeth/expensive and extensive skincare, eat, and go straight to the rink. Getting up at 7 am might sound overkill, but the lax speed of Viktor’s early morning routine needs extra breathing room.

He drags a hand full of some kind of sweet smelling lotion down his face, massaging it in with the melting pot of other creams and serums. The concoction is thick on his face, though not totally unpleasant. Viktor feels a bit more invigorated now, the cold water startling him up. Nevertheless, he starts the coffee machine. He swings his legs as he sits atop the counter and scrolls through his instagram. A sharp pinch on the cheek startled him from his trance.

“I told you to stop sitting on the counter, korkad. Nobody wants to cook on your ass juice.”

Ah, the overlooked step to the routine - cope with an insufferable roomate at ‘too early’ am.

“Good morning, Chris. I hope you slept well.”

Maybe insufferable wasn’t the right word for Chris normally, but his unrivalled snark and Viktor’s early morning sluggishness were not a fantastic mix. Chris grabs him by the sweatshirt and nearly yanks him off of the marble tabletop. He makes a show of wiping the area where Viktors butt once was. Finally, the sweet sound of gurgling and spluttering signifies the end of the coffee maker’s cycle.

Viktor pours in a fairly reasonable amount of sweetened cream, the dark brown going caramel colored and scented. He takes a long gulp, downing half the mug in one go. He looks up at Chris, who is now leaning against counter one on arm and glaring. He offers a smile at the glowering man.

“Okay, now you can be a sassy bitch.”

Chris rolls up the towel and flicks it at Viktor’s butt, drawing an undignified squeak from the slightly shorter man. He snorts a laugh, but thankfully gives Viktor his space for the rest of the morning.

He finishes the rest of his coffee quickly, the caffeine already buzzing through his brain. He checks his watch - nearly time to leave. He packs a few protein bars and water bottles along with his sweets and shirt. He calls out to Chris before grabbing his keys and locking the door.

He pulls his sweatshirt hood a little tighter around his face, slipping into his freezing cold car. He clicked on the heat, despising how long it took for the damn thing to heat up.

The drive to the rink was slow today. He wasn’t in any rush, and the slow rain hitting the metal roof of his car made for a nice serenade. He watched the outside pass by slowly, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel absentmindedly.

When he pulled up to the rink, he noticed two things. One, it was bustling with activity. Usually, the place looked practically deserted at nine in the morning. The swarms of people and clicking cameras were an odd sight.

Two, a man stands outside of the rink, wringing his wrists. He bites his lips and looks impossibly nervous. He blinks a couple of times before waving his hands frantically at one of the reporters. Viktor can’t help but laugh out loud in the solitude of his car. He pulls into the driveway, eyeing the dark haired man the whole time.

He’s vaguely familiar - Viktor’s sure he’s seen those blue framed glasses sitting on some side bench at some competition somewhere. He isn’t unattractive either. His black hair and brown eyes contrast with the pale skin of his babyish face. It gives him a look of purity. It’s a nice look. Admittedly, it’s aided by the ample blush on his cheeks and the way he rocks from foot to foot nervously. It’s a very cute habit, Viktor’s always thought.

Victor steps out of his car. Maybe he slams his car door a little louder than normal to make some of the reporters turn their heads, maybe he doesn’t. Regardless, they’re hounding on him in seconds, asking about this jump and that score. He answers all of their questions with a blinding smile, hoping that his glance towards the man goes unnoticed. Well, rather, where the man was. The glass door swings violently and Viktor catches his bag disappearing around a corner.

It takes longer than Viktor would've liked to get rid of the reporters and slip into the rink. His tight routine is now skewed fifteen minutes late. He stretches quickly and laces up his skates as quickly as possible to increase his time on the ice.

He approaches the entrance gate, one foot already on the ice when something whirrs by him. His gaze is captured by none other than the man who was stood outside.

Immediately, Viktor becomes enraptured with him. All he's doing is skating around the perimeter of the rink. Somehow, though, the swinging strides of his legs and the way his arms lift ever so slightly from the elbows when he glides paint him in the picture of grace. Viktor can’t help but stare as he completes another circle. Finally, when the man passes him a third time, he turns to look at Viktor. The grey haired man’s cheeks heat up under his unsettled gaze.

“Do you need some-”

Red creeps up the neck of the other man, his eyes widening when he realized who he’s talking to. He spins back around and pushes off even faster than before.

Viktor steps onto the ice, heart pounding. Fuck. Fuuuck. He internally moans at the increasing awkwardness in the air. Damn his annoying fame and prestige! Here he was, embarrassing himself in front of someone he vaguely remembered who could potentially be important and was definitely attractive. Embarrassing himself just by existing.

Whatever. He flicks his ankle out, starting a slow circle around the rink. If an onlooker glaneed over, it might look like the other man was chasing him. Though it was practically the other way around, Viktor considered.

Eventually, Viktor felt warm enough to do some actual exercises. A few combination spins, a few brackets. Nothing obscene. He starts his program once he feels his joints ease into the jumps.

The feeling isn't the same as the first time he did the program. Victory - it was the theme of his piece. Clearly, it’d gotten him where he wanted the first few times. The thrill of first place was incredible. It inspired him so much, the feeling of winning pushing forth his every movement. It had felt so overwhelmingly good. Now, after his fifth medal, the program didn’t mean much. His publicist had pushed him to do the same program every year, if not with a few major improvements each time.

Regardless of how many new spins or complicated jumps he added, the piece was tired. He was bored of this. There was simply no other way to put it. Even as he landed the perfectly executed triple axle that had been worked into his program, Viktor felt his heart sag.

He ran through the program a few more times, each with decreasing vigor. He didn’t even notice the man skate by him (albeit with a wide berth) and exit the rink. Drenched in sweat and disappointment, Viktor literally laid down on the ice. Maybe it wasn’t the most professional move in the book, but the freezing cold felt good on his hot skin. He hummed and got back to his feet, skating one last cool down lap before exiting and sliding on his blade covers.

He took a cold shower. Unusual, but the weight of the day didn't seem like it could just be melted away. He closed his eyes, letting the freezing water run down his body. It soothes is aching muscles and bones. Technically, the hot alternative would be better at melting away the lactic acid in his muscles. He could have a long soak in the tub when he got home, though - the temporary relief of cold water was more than satisfactory for now.

He stepped out of the shower with a towel wrapped around his hips. The cool air inside of the building almost felt warm in contrast to Viktor’s cold skin. He pulled on a new shirt and pants.

Viktor was surprised to see the other man slinging his bag over his shoulder. He didn’t appear to see the higher ranking skater, ad he sidled to the door without a second glance. Before he stepped out, though, he turned and froze.

“I… uh…” he paused and looked up, searching for the right words. “I wanted to thank you for earlier. You know. With the reporters. So, uh. Thanks.”

Before Viktor could pipe back with a cheery ‘no problem’ or ‘the pleasure's all mine, tell me your name and let me take you for a drink in my very expensive sports car,’ the man was gone. Viktor followed suit as fast as he could, but there was no catching the man now. Gone, forever.

#e1ana's fic #my writing #ah my brain #yoi fanfic #victuuri #viktor and chris are besties and flirt ode #and thats on period #original concept #yuri on ice #ok im done tagging now >:)

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min-minn · 5 years

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Symphony - Chapter One

A03

Summary: Viktor Nikiforov, tenor prodigy and top student at the Salchow Institute of Music, is looking for an accompanist.

And word around campus is that Yakov Feltsman, Head of Music and conductor of the prestigious Institute Band, is looking for new members.

Yuuri Katsuki is just looking to survive his next Piano recital

The Yuri on CONCERT Music School AU that we all deserve

Pairings: Viktor Nikiforov/ Yuuri Katsuki

Rating: Teen And Up

Content Warning: Anxiety

A/N: So I was working on a different multi-chapter YOI fic, but of course, I got struck with inspiration halfway through and scrapped it entirely. So, if you're here from that fic, I'm sorry! I'm trash! Maybe I'll finish it one day but after spending a whole week planning and researching for this fic it'll be a long time before I do *bows* please forgive me.

AND I'M REALLY EXCITED FOR THIS. I was basically raised in a music school as my mum is a classical singer, so I honestly can't believe its taken me THIS BLOODY LONG to write this kind of AU. I have like 50 pages of notes, ideas, plot plans, and MUSIC. So much music. I'm really excited to get stuck into this fic, so please don't hesitate to let me know what you think. Comments really help, and it makes me feel like I can collaborate creatively which is my Vibe™ ~

Also, I'm not from the states, so writing about NYC is based purely on movies and TV and Wikipedia searches. If anyone has any corrections about the setting please let me know! And likewise, if my own music world jargon isn't explained properly, let me know so I can edit/ offer better explanations.

Lots of awkward love,

- Min

Some translations/ explanations:

“La Bohéme” – literally “Bohemian” or “The Bohemians.” It’s a really cute opera about artists and love and all that good stuff, and has a really famous tenor aria that Viktor would sing as Rodolfo.

“Прекрасный” – “prekrasnyy,” - beautiful/ lovely

“SIM” – just stands for Salchow Institute of Music. The school is sometimes referred to as just “The Institute” as well. I’ve loosely based the school off “The Julliard School” which is one of the most prestigious Music schools in the world, situated in NYC as well.

Today was Yuuri Katsuki's first meeting with his supervisor, and he was late.

He had his satchel in his hands as he hurried off the bus towards the Salchow Institute of Music, stuffed with a haphazard pile of notes and charts. It was the kind of old satchel where the edges were so worn you could see inside it, and the buckle didn’t quite work properly most of the time. Yuuri had just grown used to carrying it in both arms instead of slung over his shoulder, only having to stuff the notes back in occasionally when they were jostled loose. This was proving to be quite the challenge today, as Yuuri broke into a full-blown sprint across the quad towards the studios, a few students glancing after him in confusion.

Phichit had stolen his charger in the night. That’s where all the trouble had started.

It was technically Yuuri’s first day of the semester, though other undergrad students had already started in February. Since he was only working on his thesis and composition, he didn’t have any strict classes or lectures. This meant his first day fell whenever his new supervisor decided it was time for them to meet, and Yuuri had been preparing for it over the entirety of the holidays. Right up until two in the morning the night before, when Yuuri had set his alarm for six, plugged his phone in next to his bed, and settled in for the few hours of sleep he’d allowed himself.

Right up until Phichit had stolen his charger.

And his phone hardly had any battery to begin with.

And his alarm didn’t go off.

“I’ll kill him!” Yuuri gasped as he dashed into the building, making his way towards a set of stairs and bounding up them two at a time. Phichit had been out at a bar all night, and must have come home early that morning, drunkenly stealing Yuuri’s charger because, of course, Phichit didn’t have one of his own. Yuuri loved his roommate dearly, but right at that moment all he could think of was strangling his stupid neck. Or “misplacing” all of his reeds right before his next recital. That would work…

Yuuri shook his head, trying to clear the thoughts. Now wasn’t the time to scheme about ruining his best friend’s life. He would have plenty of time for that after the meeting.

Yuuri’s first meeting with his new supervisor was – in Yuuri’s mind – one of the most important days on his calendar. This was primarily due to the fact that his supervisor was none other than Lila Baranovskaya – ex-mezzo-soprano diva and Queen of the industry. She essentially owned New York, as far as the music world was concerned, and her word was law. Despite only being Head of Voice at the Institute, answerable to Yakov Feltsman, Dean of the school and formidable in his own right, everyone knew it was her that really held all the power at the Institute.

And Yuuri was late to their first meeting.

Yuuri wondered, not for the first time, why she had agreed to be his supervisor. Her usual focus was on singing, and she’d trained many of the famous classical, jazz, and music theatre singers that now graced auditoriums, studios, and bars across the city. Across the world, even. One of her students had just gone on to win a Tony Award at last year’s ceremony.

Not to mention the fact that Yuuri’s usual supervisor, Celestino Cialdini, one of NYC’s top pianists, was the perfect supervisor. He was kind, allowed Yuuri to work at his own pace, but still challenged him enough that he always felt he was learning. So, it had come as a genuine shock when Celestino had met with him after last year’s finals, and suggested he try a new supervisor.

Yuuri had, of course, assumed it was all his fault. Celestino was an amazing pianist, and Yuuri was clearly not up to standard. Celestino probably had countless postgrad students waiting in the wings with oodles of talent and self-confidence. It was only right that he make time for them instead, and drop the excess baggage.

But then Celestino mentioned that he’d had a meeting with Lilia.

Yuuri finally reached the top of the third floor, glancing quickly down the hall to check the studio numbers and orient himself, running on the spot to keep up his momentum and try and calm the whirlwind in his brain.

Lilia had emailed him over the Christmas break, asking a few questions about his thesis, some basic queries about his skill level and repertoire. Yuuri had felt like he was in a dream – it was almost too surreal. Speaking to her directly was surely forbidden in some way. And her clinical approach had made him feel like he was some kind of specimen, pinned to a wall with Lilia as scientist, poking and prodding and dissecting his talent.

Although she was Head of Voice, her experience and vast knowledge of musical theory made her top advisor to most students at SIM. She would be more than able to supervise his piano thesis, and was a far superior choice than even Celestino when it came to composition.

And despite being absolutely sure Lilia would never agree to tutor him, Yuuri eventually found himself face to face with a disarming email, just a few weeks before the beginning of the semester. It was short, but brutally direct;

“I will be your supervisor, if you’re ready to sell your soul.”

Yuuri blanched at the memory as he came closer and closer to the studio where they would be meeting.

Sell his soul?

Yuuri reached for the handle of the door to the studio, clasping it in a white-knuckle grip. Absently, he thought that really wasn’t too high a price at all.

With the words still spinning in his mind, Yuuri hardly noticed the handle turn itself under his fingers, and suddenly the door was wrenched out of his hands and blown wide open.

He fell forward slightly at the force, scrambling to keep his satchel and notes secure in his grip. When he straightened, his glasses were skewed, and he took a moment to readjust them so he could see clearly…

A tall man stood in the doorway, framed by the light streaming in from the windows of the studio behind him. He had a slightly surprised look on his features, silver hair drifting across his eyes as it shook loose.

Yuuri blinked.

Viktor Nikiforov?

It took a while for Yuuri’s frazzled mind to catch up on what was happening. He was face to face with the Viktor Nikiforov – tenor prodigy and top student at the Institute. Famous son of the Russian Nikiforov power couple. Infamous flirt and heartthrob of the entire school, if not the entire city.

And he was still face to face with the Viktor Nikiforov.

And Viktor was speaking.

His lips were moving.

Was Viktor speaking to him?

“—must be Lilia’s new pet? Don’t let her eat you alive,” and he was smiling. Viktor’s smile was almost too big – it seemed to spread across his whole face, lighting up his eyes and creasing his cheeks into dimples.

Yuuri swallowed.

“Ah… um…. Excuse me?” his voice was breathless, and he could feel it quavering in his throat. His heart was still trying desperately to steady itself after he had sprinted all the way here, but something else seemed to set his nerves on fire and flood his chest with warmth. It felt like his heart was trying to tear itself out of his ribcage.

“Oh, of course,” Viktor stood aside so that Yuuri could pass through, oblivious to the fact that Yuuri had actually been asking Viktor a question. Yuuri didn’t correct him. He was too caught up on the sound of Viktor’s voice.

It was pure music, of course. Every word, every inflection, carefully placed like fingers on piano keys. Yuuri distantly thought he could listen to it for hours.

“Good luck! And I’ll consider your advice, Lilia!” Viktor called back as he moved to leave the studio, flashing Yuuri another grin that made that warmth in Yuuri’s chest spark into some kind of inferno. It was hot in here. Too hot. Was it really winter? Yuuri felt like he had far too many layers on, and why were his cheeks so warm…

And then Viktor was gone, the door closing gently behind him.

“I hope this is both the first and last time you keep me waiting, Mr. Katsuki,” another voice called from across the room. Yuuri yelped and spun around, reaching a hand up to his mouth to quiet his embarrassing noises.

It would be a miracle if he could survive the next hour without going into cardiac arrest.

Lilia Baranovskaya was seated at a grand piano in the corner of the room, dressed casually but somehow still looking ready to step out onto a stage at any moment. Her hair was pulled into a tight bun, accentuating her sharp features and highlighting her steely gaze that pinned Yuuri to the floor where he stood. Her lips were pursed, and she slowly moved to stand, eyes roving up and down Yuuri’s figure, as if calculating Yuuri’s worth right then and there. He was acutely aware that he was standing there in his tacky sweatshirt and training pants. Not to mention his musty old bag and crumpled charts tucked into his arms, hair an absolute bird’s nest and glasses still slightly skewed. And he was panting for air like a fish out of water.

“Well?” Lilia snapped, folding her arms and cocking her hips as she waited for Yuuri’s response.

“Y—Yes! I mean, no, it won’t happen again Mrs. Baranov—”

“That’s Madame Baranovskaya,” she clipped, face hardly betraying any emotion.

“Madame Baranovskaya,” Yuuri whispered, instinctively dropping into a stiff bow, momentarily forgetting that he was in New York City instead of Japan. He thought he heard Lilia huff through her nose – was she laughing? Yuuri must be hearing things.

He snapped out of the bow, eyes still downcast; “F—Forgive me, my alarm …” he trailed off lamely, hoping Lilia understood.

“We’ll start at the beginning,” she said simply, working her way around the piano and standing in front of him. Yuuri kept his eyes trained on the floor, watching as her perfectly heeled feet came into view. The shoes looked expensive, and Yuuri distantly wondered at how pretty they looked…

“Discipline,” she said sharply, and Yuuri glanced up at her, eyes wide.

“Discipline…?” he whispered.

“I will not tolerate laziness. So, we will begin with discipline. Show me your scales,” and she stepped to the side, Yuuri swallowing thickly as he glanced toward the piano.

It seemed to warp slightly as his eyes tried to focus, the shimmering black of its top swirling until it felt like the blackness was going to swallow him. He’d let his supervisor down. He was lazy. He was weak.

He had to prove himself.

* * *

“So, how’d the meeting go?” Phichit’s drawling voice crackled through Yuuri’s headphones as he moved to join the line at the Campus Café. Yuuri sighed, still absently drumming his fingers against his satchel, his charts spinning through his mind.

“Terribly,” he groaned in response, clutching his satchel closer. Phichit made a commiserative noise on the other end.

“I’m sure it wasn’t terrible, Yuuri,” Phichit said, his voice slightly groggy. Yuuri frowned, remembering Phichit was probably wickedly hungover by now.

“And you could have chosen a better time to come home piss drunk and steal my charger,” Yuuri said exasperatedly. He was somewhat lucky someone had left their charger in the studio, so his phone was back to full … after the fact.

“Ah, yeah, my bad,” Phichit said with a nervous laugh. “I’ll make it up to by making dinner tonight.”

“Mi Goreng isn’t dinner, by the way,” Yuuri tried to sound serious, but he had a smile on his face. It must have shown through in his voice because Phichit was laughing on the other end.

“It ticks all the boxes though! Hits all the food groups … if you squint,” he laughed again. Yuuri grinned.

He and Phichit were roommates – had been since they’d both placed at SIM as undergrads. There were plenty of other international students – even a few other Japanese students that Yuuri knew by name – but something about Phichit just felt like home. They’d both moved to New York around the same time, had left their families behind to pursue music careers – Yuuri majoring in piano, Phichit in saxophone. And Phichit seemed to grasp all the strange cultural nuances far quicker than Yuuri, allowing them to fall into an easy friendship where Phichit would help Yuuri keep up socially, and Yuuri would ground Phichit when he got too crazy.

By the time they’d finished their degrees, they were best friends, and Yuuri could hardly imagine life in New York without him.

“Oh, I forgot to tell you, I met Viktor today,” Yuuri said absently, moving up in line and eying the cabinet for lunch options. Everything was ridiculously overpriced, and Yuuri winced when he saw the tag on a sandwich.

He smirked when Phichit gasped on the other end of the line. “Viktor? The Viktor Nikiforov?! Yuuri why didn’t you tell me as soon as I called?!” Yuuri laughed, Phichit practically screeching down the phone.

“It wasn’t a big deal, really. He was in before me with Lilia and we met in the hallway…” Yuuri trailed off, preparing himself as he noticed he was next in line. Yuuri noted distantly that the cashier seemed vaguely familiar – a younger man, quite thin with blonde hair, almost feminine except for his expression which made him look like some kind of street thug.

“Pfft, not a big deal. Yuuri, please, he’s only a fucking god,” and Yuuri could practically hear Phichit rolling his eyes.

“H—Hold on a second, I’m grabbing some lunch,” Yuuri said softly as he stepped up to the counter, taking an earbud out and smiling shyly at the cashier.

“What do you want?” the younger man snapped, staring at Yuuri with eyes like flint from under his bangs. Yuuri swallowed.

“Ch—Chicken sandwich and a long black, please,” he said, voice barely a whisper as his anxiety started creeping across his brain. This kid was looking at him like he was absolute trash.

“Huh? Speak up,” he snapped, leaning forward across the counter and lips working into a deeper frown than he was already wearing. Yuuri panicked. His throat tightened to the point where even breathing was hard let alone speaking. No. Not an option. He could feel everyone around him turning to stare.

“N—Never mind!” he gasped, and turned on his heels, forcing himself not to run, keeping his walk as casual as possible, though every muscle in his body was screaming at him to sprint.

It was only once he found a quiet set of chairs out of the way that he let himself take a deep breath, sitting down exhaustedly and staring at the ceiling.

“—hello? Earth to Yuuuuuuuuuri?!” a voice crackled from the headphones around his neck and he jumped to put them back in.

“Ph-Phichit! Sorry … sorry, I forgot…” he wiped a hand across his face.

“Was it really that terrible? With The Diva?” Phichit asked gently, and Yuuri realised absently that Phichit probably heard the whole exchange at the café.

Yuuri laughed without mirth. “She told me to call her Madame Baranovskaya actually.”

“What?! Man, she really lives up to her street name doesn’t she,” Phichit sighed.

“Yeh. Diva indeed,” Yuuri groaned, leaning forward in his chair. He glanced at his phone, noticing the time.

“Sorry Phichit, I have to go. Minako’s waiting for me,” he said in a small voice, and he heard Phichit tsk on the other end of the line.

“You’d better fill me in when you get home tonight,” his friend warned, entirely serious. “And you’d better tell me about Viktor or I’m burning the Mi Goreng.”

Yuuri laughed. “How do you even burn Mi Goreng. It’s instant noodles.”

“I’ll find a way,” Phichit said, still deadly serious, though Yuuri could hear a smile in his voice.

“I’ll tell you, don’t worry. Bye Phichit,” and Yuuri ended the call, sitting staring at his phone for a while as he smiled softly.

He wondered exactly what he’d done to deserve a friend like Phichit.

* * *

The Salchow Institute of Music was the most prestigious music school in the country, and internationally it had consistently ranked in the top five for music schools. Yuuri had been just one of countless international applicants desperate to get into the school when he’d applied. Most famous musicians hailed from SIM, and many returned as lecturers or accompanists, only adding to its fame.

The Institute sat right in the middle of Manhattan, surrounded by countless studios, theatres, dance halls, and schools. So, it was no surprise that Yuuri’s family friend and esteemed ballet dancer, Minako Okukawa, had her studio nearby.

Minako had known the Katsuki family for years, originally from the same sleepy town of Hasetsu that Katsuki was born in. So, it was Minako who’d stoked Yuuri’s fires as a young pianist, encouraging him to pursue a career in music from as young as three. His parents hadn’t really understood – confused enough by his decision to even train in ballet under Minako in the first place, let alone his subsequent growing passion for piano. But Minako understood. He’d begun as her accompanist for a while, and travelled with her to New York when she accepted a job as Head of Dance at SIM. And it was her that had snuck the SIM application papers onto his desk one night, and her that handed them in the next morning.

Even this deep in his postgrad studies, Yuuri still found time to work with Minako. He was established and skilled enough now to be her primary accompanist at the studio, and he often helped the dancers there rehearse, and even sometimes performed at their recitals or concerts. He had a regular slot on Thursday evenings with Minako’s Troupe – a group of her best dancers, all top SIM graduates, who often performed at the Lincoln Center and other theatres around the city.

And Yuuri often danced at Minako’s studio himself, still intent on keeping on top of his fitness but even more so, just drawn to ballet as an outlet. He’d always loved the form, and enjoyed being able to make a different kind of music with his whole body rather than just his hands.

He hoped Minako would let him practice tonight, after classes finished. She’d mentioned she had a surprise for him, but he assumed it was another free dinner at their favourite local Yakitori Bar. Maybe he could rain-check it …

Shrugging his scarf closer to his face as he felt he temperature drop, Yuuri made his way through the streets towards the studio, satchel still in his hands. He’d remembered to pack the charts for the Troupe’s latest performance – a more modern rendition of The Nutcracker. It was a selection he enjoyed playing, though it sounded much better with a full orchestra.

The studio was warm, and Yuuri always felt a small sense of coming home when he stepped inside. The walls were a soft wood, with some small framed Japanese etchings tastefully placed along them. There was a Bonsai Sakura tree on the front desk, Minako’s assistant seated behind it. She glanced up, recognising Yuuri and offering him a professional smile. He smiled back, nodding and making his way through to the stairs.

“Yuuri, glad you could make it,” Minako said brightly as he entered the main studio. A few of the dancers were already warming up and he offered them a small smile.

“Hey Minako,” his voice was soft, but being around Minako was as easy as breathing, so he found he could speak a little more confidently. Even if the memories of the other studio he’d been in earlier today still cast an anxious shadow across his mind.

He shed his jacket and scarf as Minako waved him over to the piano, turning back to one of her students and going over some choreography. Yuuri placed his jacket and scarf under the piano seat, relishing the feeling of not being the centre of attention as he sat at the familiar stool.

It was one of the reasons he loved piano. The real star of the show was the instrument – it took up the most room, could be as loud and commanding as any singer, if not more so. But the whole time, the player – Yuuri – could be invisible. Silent. And piano was always the most popular as an accompaniment, allowing Yuuri to truly blend into the background and let himself just melt into the music. Nobody judged the accompanist. Nobody even saw them.

So, after the events of the day where he’d been centre stage under Madame Baranovskaya’s judgement, settling into the role of accompanist was exactly what Yuuri needed to unwind.

The rehearsal went well, Minako leaning casually but gracefully against the grand, offering corrections and advice to her students where appropriate. She sometimes flicked Yuuri a sly smirk or a wink when she said something particularly layered, clueing him in to some inside joke they shared. Yuuri’s nerves soon melted into calm, and he contented himself with getting lost in the music and the movement of the dancers.

Yuuri actually knew some of the dancers personally, having either trained with them on occasion or shared lecture halls when they were studying at SIM. He could tell they were just as relaxed as he was – still working hard and concentrating with sweat dripping down their brows or a look of determination in their eyes, but relaxed all the same. The studio was a comfortable space – Minako having worked hard to keep “real life,” as she called it, firmly outside of the studio. When you walked through the doors, you could step into new shoes, forget whatever you were outside, and focus on dancing. Still, she often played counsellor to her students – God knows she’d done it enough with Yuuri to basically earn herself a psychiatrist’s license – outside of the studio. She’d once told Yuuri, over a bottle of sake at their favourite bar, that artists were the most vulnerable of the human race. They didn’t just wear their hearts on their sleeves, they displayed it on a stage for the world to see.

Somehow, as Yuuri played and let his mind wander, he found himself wondering if that rule applied to Viktor.

Viktor’s status on campus was well known to Yuuri. Phichit as well, who often gushed about the famous tenor in the safety of their apartment like he was some kind of celebrity. And Yuuri thought, absently, that he probably was a kind of celebrity, at least in the music world.

Viktor’s parents were wildly famous musicians – his mother the lead soprano at NYC Opera for almost three decades before her recent retirement, and his father a famous composer and infamous conductor come manager of the New York Philharmonic. Their reputations as ruthless artists and unparalleled masters of their crafts had propelled them into international stardom, and their other worldly good looks and “exotic” Russian lineage made them instant favourites in almost any circle.

Viktor was born to greatness, in every sense of the word. It was almost a joke that he even attended SIM in the first place.

He’d been a prodigy since he was young, taking to singing like a boat to water, and effortlessly moving onto dance and composition, having performed at numerous prestigious events, concerts, and competitions for years. He’d just been granted the lead role of Rodolfo in NYC Opera’s upcoming production of La Bohéme – the youngest tenor on the company’s roster in decades. And not only was his voice stunning, but his looks almost guaranteed him roles in any field. He’d performed in musical theatre last year, showing himself to be an exquisite dancer, singer, and performer. From music companies to media outlets, Viktor had most of New York in the palm of his hand at just 27.

So Yuuri found it hard to imagine Viktor being “the most vulnerable of the human race.” If anything, Viktor was confidence incarnate.

As Yuuri let himself drift, he fell into playing on autopilot, mind sifting through memories and honing in on his run in with Viktor earlier at the school studio.

He was so confident – almost ethereal in how self-assured he was. And it wasn’t arrogant, Yuuri noted. He was just sure of where he stood – understood his own limits quite thoroughly. Yuuri wondered if Viktor was hard on himself during practice. He probably wasn’t as hard on himself as Yuuri, since Yuuri wasn’t naturally gifted or genetically destined to be a musician like Viktor was. Viktor probably just practiced as a formality.

Something about the music he was playing had Yuuri closing his eyes, replaying their meeting and slowing it down like some kind of internal film. He could almost see Viktor’s eyes, hidden in shadow with the light behind him, but still a brilliant blue against his pale skin… silvery eyelashes framing them perfectly … the set of his lips…

“Yuuri?”

His eyes flew open and he stopped playing, realising he’d all but daydreamed off the face of the planet. He glanced over to Minako who was looking at him with an amused expression.

“We’re doing a traditional Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy, not Jazz-Interpretive,” she said with a smirk, arching her brow as Yuuri blushed.

What had he been playing?

“O—Oh, sorry,” he said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head. Some of the dancers were whispering to themselves, the few he knew giggling good naturedly. Yuuri ducked his head, focussing on the keys and trying to ignore his embarrassment.

“Let’s pick it up from the t—” Minako suddenly stopped, interrupted by the sound of the door opening.

“I’m so sorry, is this a bad time?” a voice said, and Yuuri felt his heart leap into his throat.

Standing at the door, slightly breathless, hair dishevelled and peppered with snow – it was snowing? – was none other than Viktor Nikiforov.

Instinctively, Yuuri turned to glance out the window. It was snowing. And it was dark. How long had he been daydreaming for? How long had Minako let him play for?

Had Viktor heard…?

Yuuri’s cheeks set themselves alight and he ducked his head again, desperate now more than ever to be as invisible as possible.

And what was Viktor doing here? He was a member of the SIM Official dance troupe, there was hardly any need for him to practice here.

“Ah, Viktor, come in,” Minako said in a friendly tone. Minako knew him? Yuuri felt like his brain was quickly derailing.

“You’re early, of course, but you’re welcome to sit in. We’re close to finishing,” she gestured towards the few scattered chairs at the back of the studio.

The chairs near the piano.

And Viktor was making his way towards the closest chair, right behind the piano stool.

Yuuri tried to remember how to breathe.

“Oh,” Yuuri heard behind him, the voice sounding like some kind of symphony even if it also sounded like it was coming to him from the bottom of a well.

“You’re Lilia’s new student, right? We met earlier?” Viktor was talking. Viktor was talking to him. Talking to him like he wasn’t just playing the starring role in Yuuri’s brain theatre moments ago…

Yuuri gathered all the strength he could muster and turned slightly to face him. Yes. Yes, Viktor was every bit as beautiful in person as he had been in his mind. Even more so. It was almost painful to look at.

Viktor was in the process of undressing, setting his coat and sweatshirt across the back of the chair, scarf unravelling from around his neck. Yuuri found himself unable to look away from Viktor’s movements – it was almost a dance, the way his fingers and hands touched and pulled and stretched and…

Yuuri vaguely registered that Viktor was waiting for an answer.

“Y—Yes,” he squeaked, tipping his head in an instinctive bow which earned him a strange look. He blushed – if it were possible to blush any more than he already was – mentally chiding himself for slipping out of American culture. Nobody in America bowed. There was a slight pause, Viktor watching him levelly as he sat down behind him. Yuuri swallowed.

“I’m Y—Yuuri Katsuki,” he added breathlessly, thinking it was probably normal for humans to introduce themselves in this kind of situation. Viktor beamed a smile in response.

“A pleasure. I’m Viktor Nikiforov. We’re both at SIM I think?” Viktor cocked his head, hair falling over one of his eyes in a way that was very, verydistracting. Yuuri tried to remember the English language.

“Yes, I believe so,” he said softly, glancing away. He couldn’t very well let Viktor know that Yuuri had known they were at the same school since he’d first been accepted. That he and Phichit had followed Viktor’s studies and career meticulously, like he was some kind of musical god.

“I’m glad you’re accompanying. I’ve been looking for someone good to practice with for ages. You’d think it would be easy to find a decent pianist here of all places, but they don’t grow on trees apparently. Or at least, that’s what Lilia would say,” Viktor offered him another smile, humming a little laugh like he’d just included Yuuri in some kind of inside joke. Was it a joke? Yuuri couldn’t tell. He could hardly keep up with the English, let alone understand the social nuances. Where was Phichit when he needed him?

Yuuri distantly wondered that this would make for a great story for Phichit – a terrible story for him.

“Alright, Sugar Plum again please Mr. Katsuki,” Minako’s voice cut across his thoughts. She was on the other side of the studio now, holding one of the dancer’s legs to help them stretch. Yuuri swallowed. Yes. Sugar Plum. Easy.

It was a miracle he made it through the first few bars, let alone the whole piece. He was lucky he knew the song so well, hardly needing to look at the music to know where he was up to. And as accompanist, the song itself wasn’t too hard, just melodic enough to replicate the full orchestra piece and cue the dancers where necessary. It was a relief, because Yuuri found the entirety of his senses tuned to the man seated behind him. Every squeak of the chair he sat in, every appreciative hum, every breath was like an electric bolt through his veins. By the end he was almost sweating where he sat, nerves completely shot.

“прекрасный!” Viktor said from behind him, chair dragging across the floor as he stood, clapping excitedly. Yuuri glanced back towards him, adjusting his glasses as he watched the man burst into a wide grin, bouncing from foot to foot like a child. The dancers all blushed and thanked him, though Yuuri couldn’t help but notice that Viktor’s eyes were mainly trained on him.

On him?

“Thank you, Viktor, I’m sure everyone’s even more in love with you now,” Minako said with a smirk at a few of the blushing dancers. They hid their faces and made their way to the far wall where all their gear was piled up. Viktor laughed.

“Please Minako, they probably don’t even know who I am,” he said with a grin. Minako huffed a laugh.

“Maybe. Though I’m sure they’re smart enough to figure out you’re important,” she glanced at Yuuri, flashing him a strange expression he could hardly read.

“You’d have to be,” she continued, leaning against the grand, “To persuade me to allow you the use of my studio - and my best accompanist - after hours.”

Yuuri suddenly felt the ground disappear beneath him as Minako glanced back at him with the most wicked smirk.

“Wh—What…” his voice choked off. Viktor was laughing. Minako was laughing. What was the joke? What had happened?

“Thank you again, Minako,” Viktor said with genuine gratitude dripping from every word. “I promise you won’t regret the favour,” he added with a wink. Minako laughed again.

“Have fun you two! And surprise, Yuuri!” she flashed Yuuri a grin, turning to leave with the rest of the troupe and completely ignoring Yuuri as he stood and stammered, trying to get the words out but finding he’d completely lost his voice.

Yuuri dejectedly watched her leave, and he felt his stomach sink as he realised he was alone. Alone with Viktor Nikiforov.

Phichit would never believe him.

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paxohana · 4 years

Text

Menagerie, Pt. 1

The evening was chilly for late spring, leaving him wishing he had worn a heavier jacket or better yet remained at home. He was expected to be there, however. It was the ball of the season, the event of the elite in the city. While he didn’t consider himself in the upper crust of society, his family name carried notable weight.

He felt confident in his appearance, wearing the latest fashion from Paris. The coattails were something that took some getting used to but paired along with pinstripe trousers he felt dapper. His crimson cravat felt as if it were choking him and the highly polished shoes pinched his feet, but such was the bane of aristocracy. He just prayed he’d get through all the pomp and circumstance of the occasion.

“Viktor,” his date began, “I’m thirsty. When we get inside, would you be a darling and get me something to drink?”

“Of course, my dear,” Viktor said, lifting her gloved hand and kissing it.

They walked through the archway leading to the grand room, only pausing to be introduced. The scattered applause didn’t bode well with Viktor, but he knew it was because of his date. Her family prayed Viktor took a liking to her and wedded her, but Viktor knew it was hopeless on their part. He invited her to the ball as a favor to his father since her family’s clout was deteriorating.

After excusing himself, Viktor headed toward the refreshment table and perused the offerings. Every delicacy befitting a ball of this magnitude was present. Scrutinizing the appetizers, Viktor was pleased when he saw a towering platter of finger sandwiches. He grabbed a plate and stacked several on it along with a few petit fours. Deciding he had enough to last most of the evening, Viktor returned to his date.

“I think you forgot something,” she said, frowning when he looked at her cluelessly, “My drink. I swear, Viktor, you are so scatterbrained for someone your age!”

“I apologize,” he said, handing her his plate, “I’ll be back in a moment.”

Heading to the table once more, Viktor waited until the server assisted those ahead of him. The band had struck up a tune and several couples headed for the dance floor. He turned around and watched the dancers waltz around in the open. His eyes darted from pair to pair, and he recognized a few before his gaze stopped.

That’s when he saw him.

The young man appeared to be an angel descended from the heavens. His tan plaid jacket complimented his jet black hair perfectly, the golden wire-framed glasses giving him a glowing appearance. Viktor admired his slender figure and the way his vest hugged his upper body. His hands seemed delicate under the white gloves he wore, but the way he held his date in his arms suggested admirable strength.

Viktor was instantly smitten.

He watched the graceful flow of the man’s body as he twirled his dance partner around the floor. His movements denoted one skilled in the art, and Viktor thoroughly enjoyed being privy to see it. He could tell the man was carrying on a conversation with his date, and when his eyes crinkled when he smiled, Viktor thought his heart would cease beating. His smile was brighter than any star imaginable and the joy on his face ethereal. Viktor wanted nothing more than to swoon over the man, wished it was him being held in his arms, spinning around the hardwood floor with him.

Shaking the impossible thoughts from his mind, Viktor ordered a drink for his date and returned to her. His gaze remained fixed on the man, however. Viktor was intrigued by him, and he thought he must introduce himself. Trying to think of a way to strike up a conversation with him, Viktor was jolted from his reverie when applause broke out among the guests.

“Viktor?”

“Yes, dear?” he responded with a question of his own.

“I’ve been talking to you for the past five minutes. I would like to dance now,” she declared, taking his hand and dragging him to the floor.

The band switched to a slower tune and Viktor held his date closer, but his eyes never left the young man. He barely heard the words his companion was speaking, nodding every so often or giving a hum of approval. His mind wasn’t on the woman in his arms, but of the man mere feet away from him.

The song seemed to drone on forever. He wanted to break away from the crowd, find the man that caught his fancy and chat until the small hours of the morning. He wanted to know everything about him, wanted to hear his laughter and see that broad smile directed at him.

Bowing to his date, Viktor excused himself and scanned the people surrounding him, but became dismayed when he couldn’t locate the one that fascinated him. Deciding to get a breath of fresh air, Viktor headed for the balcony but froze when he saw someone leaning against the railing.

It was him, the one that took his breath away.

Viktor couldn’t believe his luck and wondered if the heavens were smiling down upon him. Clearing his throat as not to frighten the young man, Viktor ambled up to the railing and stood next to him.

“Good evening, sir,” Viktor said, trying to steady his voice to contain his growing excitement.

“Good evening,” the man said, smiling softly at him.

“Quite the party, isn’t it?” Viktor asked, grinning when the other man chuckled.

“I hate these soirees,” he replied, “Too many expectations and secrets.”

“I agree wholeheartedly,” Viktor said, holding out his hand, “Viktor Nikiforov.”

“Yuuri Katsuki,” the young man said, shaking Viktor’s hand with a strength he found enchanting, “Pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“The pleasure is all mine. What brings you to the Kelly’s tonight?”

“My father is their investor,” Yuuri said, “I’m representing my family. I almost wish they had sent my sister.”

“I completely understand,” Viktor lamented, “My father is a steel magnate. We’re expected to attend events such as this.”

“Wait, Nikiforov Metals?” Yuuri inquired.

“That’s us.”

“My father was just asked to take over as their financier,” Yuuri said in astonishment, “and here I am running into the scion of my father’s newest client.”

“I suppose it is a small world,” Viktor replied, chuckling slightly, “Maybe the stars have aligned or whatnot.”

“Perhaps.”

Viktor watched Yuuri as he stared out at the inky darkness sparsely sprinkled with gas lamps. He wanted to know what was going through his head but thought it impolite to comment on it. Leaning against the railing, Viktor looked at Yuuri when he sighed.

“I wish we didn’t have such social responsibilities,” Yuuri began, “I want to feel free and alive, not stifled under others’ expectations.”

“I agree wholeheartedly. I’m expected to marry and carry on the family business,” Viktor said.

“What would you rather do?” Yuuri inquired.

“Travel the world, help the less fortunate,” Viktor elaborated, “I see the underprivileged in our city and it tugs at my heart.”

“That’s quite admirable of you,” Yuuri said, giving a smile that made Viktor’s heart skip a beat.

“What would be in your future if you had a choice?” Viktor questioned.

“I’d like to go to school for medicine,” Yuuri explained.

“A doctor is a highly respectable career choice,” he said.

“Alas, I feel my life will be dedicated to taking over for my father’s position once he retires,” Yuuri said, sadness mingling in his voice.

“As will mine. Such are the burdens of an only child,” Viktor said, sighing deeply.

Yuuri nodded in sympathy. While he wasn’t in the same situation as Viktor, he was the only male heir and was expected to carry on his father’s legacy. He felt trapped in his circumstances and wasn’t ready to resign himself to his destiny.

“Perhaps in the next lifetime,” Yuuri mused, desperately hoping it were true.

“Mayhap,” he agreed, “but enough about melancholic subjects. What does Yuuri Katsuki do to pass his time throughout the day?”

“Typically follow my father around and learn from him,” Yuuri revealed, “Other times I spend time in the park reading or playing croquet. I’m the family champion.”

“Impressive,” Viktor said, grinning when Yuuri smiled, “Have you ever tried your hand at polo?”

“I can’t say that I have,” he said.

“Would you like to join me this week? There is a spot open on our team since Harold will be out of town. I’d love for you to experience such a grand occasion,” Viktor invited, sincerely hoping Yuuri would agree.

“Alright,” Yuuri said, “It sounds like fun. As long as it doesn’t interfere with my schedule, I’d be delighted to tag along.”

“We generally meet up in the square at ten o’clock on Wednesday mornings. Is that agreeable?” Viktor inquired.

“Quite so. See you then?”

After exchanging information in case one needed to cancel, they parted for the night to return to their dates. Viktor kept scouring the crowd for Yuuri much to his date’s chagrin. The last time Viktor spotted him, he knew he had gone too far.

“You could be couth enough to hide your fancy for other women, Viktor,” she complained, gathering her clutch, “I’m ready to leave now.”

Grimacing as his date angrily shrugged into her shawl, Viktor played scenarios through his head to appease her. He knew if word got back to his father that he avoided her most of the evening, the man would be most displeased.

“I apologize, my dear,” Viktor said when they reached the stoop of her house, “My wits were not about me tonight. I promise I shall make it up to you.”

“Don’t bother,” she grumbled, “Good night, Viktor.”

He leaned in to kiss her cheek but was spurned when she spun on her heel and opened the door, slamming it seconds later. He knew he should have felt horrible at the manner he treated the woman, but he couldn’t help feeling relieved. Not only would the limelight of her family’s expectations dim, but he wouldn’t be pressed into future engagements involving the woman.

Which left him more time with Yuuri Katsuki.

Grinning to himself, Viktor whistled as he wound his way through the darkened streets toward his own home.

Just something @princessmimoza and I thought up in 2018 and finally decided to get going on this project lol. This ficlet will be updated on the first and sixteenth of every month. We hope you like it!

#princessmimoza #menagerie pt 1 #viktuuri ficlet

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yuriplisetsky-rp · 6 years

Text

Heartbreak and Victory

//Entry for Day Two of Otabek Altin 2018. The prompt choices were Olympics / Adventure, and I chose Olympics. Basically, Yuri gets hut before the Olympics, and can’t compete, so Otabek does it for them. I hope you enjoy!//

Otabek looked down at Yuri as soon as he hit the ice and knew immediately something was wrong. Every skater falls, no matter how good they were. It just happened from time to time. Yuri fell sometimes but always got back up, more determined than before. Since he was going through a major growth spurt at the moment, his jumps hadn’t been quite as secure as before, but he was still a force to be reckoned with.

This time, it had almost looked like Yuri’s blade had skid before coming out from underneath him, landing the blond on the ice hard. It had happened so fast, it was hard to tell. All he knew was that one minute he looked fine, and the next minute, his little love had fallen and had not gotten back up.

Otabek immediately skated over to him, his heart pounding so loud. “What’s wrong, Yura? What happened?” Yuri shook his head, wincing as he tried to push himself up, and unable to. It seemed to be his right hip which was given him trouble. “Okay, kitten, let’s go. I’m taking you to the hospital.” He gently picked him up, careful to keep his hip as still as possible. Viktor and Yuuri immediately followed, helping him take off Yuri’s skates as he carried him to Viktor’s car.

All the while, Yuri was whimpering and crying. “I can’t, I have to be okay, the Olympics are next month, I have to, I have to…” he would whine, burying his face into Otabek’s chest. It broke his heart seeing his love like this and knowing there was nothing he could to help him. Even a minor injury would most likely mean he was out of the Olympics.

The timing could not have been worse.

~~~~~~~~~

The prognosis wasn’t good. It was a hip sprain. Yuri would be off the ice for months. Next season would most likely be okay, but it would be at least six months before he was back to normal. The Olympics and Worlds were out of the question, as he would likely not even be able to walk for at least a couple months. In a split second, Yuri’s season had ended just like that.

Yuri barely spoke the entire way home. As Otabek got him settled in on the couch with the television and his laptop, Yuri was mostly quiet. It worried him because that was unlike him. Otabek sat next to him, wrapping his arm around him. “What I can do for you, kitten?” he asked.

Yuri shook his head. “I - I don’t know,” he said, his voice quiet. “I just… I don’t know what to do. How… how am I supposed to…” His voice started to break, tears started to come down his cheeks. “How am I supposed to just sit back and watch while everyone else competes? We were supposed to do this together!”

It broke Otabek’s heart, and he hated that there was nothing he could do to help him. He couldn’t make the injury go away. “What do you want me to do?” he asked, reaching a hand up and gently petting Yuri’s hair.

Yuri shook his head. “I - I don’t know…” he said, leaning into him. It was silent for a moment until Potya jumped up, curling up into her Papa’s lap. Yuri reached a hand up to pet her soft fur.

“Do you want me to stay home with you?”

“What?” He could feel Yuri’s eyes on him. Otabek would do it, if Yuri asked him to. Yes, he wanted to make a name for Kazakhstan and this was his first Olympics, too, but… If Yuri asked, he would withdraw in a heartbeat to stay home and take care of him. “No, that’s not… that’s not what I want.”

He nodded. “Okay, Yuratchka, what do you want?” he asked.

“I want… If I can’t be there to kick their asses, then… do it for me?” Otabek looked down at him, meeting Yuri’s eyes. “Kick ass at the Olympics for me.” A small smile crossed Otabek’s face. That sounded a lot more like the Yuri he knew and loved. It was the least he could do.

~~~~~~~~~

Otabek stood on the ice for the short program. His group included Christophe Giacometti, Yuuri Katsuki, Viktor Nikiforov, Jean-Jacques Leroy, and Phichit Chulanont. He skated third in the group. As his name was announced before the warmup, he was looking for Yuri the entire time. He was sitting with his mother and older sister in the audience with the families of the other skaters. He didn’t see him, but as he was doing his warm-up, he heard him as his name was announced again.

“The next skater in this warm-up group represents Kazakhstan, Otabek Altin.” As the words were translated into Korean, he heard that familiar yell - Yuri. “He is the 2016 World Bronze Medalist, a two-time Four Continents medalist, the 2017 Grand Prix Final Silver Medalist, a two-time Junior World Medalist, and a two-time Kazakhstan National Champion.” He was coming back around, and then he saw him. Yuri was screaming for him, and he saw that flash of blond hair. A smile crossed his face.

After the warm-up ended, he skated to the boards, putting on his skate guards and heading back. He took off his skates and continued to stay warm as he prepared to go back out on the ice. When he got back out onto the ice, he tried to drown out the sound of JJ’s scores as they were announced but failed. “And the scores, please… the short program score for Jean-Jacques Leroy of Canada… 114.95. He is currently in first place.”

Forget it, Altin, think about Yuri. He had to do this. He had to kick ass for Yuri. He had promised him. “Our next skater represents Kazakhstan…. Ladies and Gentlemen, give a round of applause for Otabek Altin.” As he skated, everything seemed to click. He thought about Yuri’s face through every jump, every step, every spin. When he ended in his final pose, he had never felt so good after a skate. The only thing that would make it better is if Yuri was competing with him.

This would have to do.

Otabek skated off the ice, putting on his skate guards as his coach told him what a good job he had done. He made his way over to the Kiss & Cry, as he waited for his scores. “The scores please… the short program score for Otabek Altin of Kazakhstan… 116.37.” He couldn’t keep the shock or happiness off his face. That was a personal best! The perfect time to do it. “He is currently in first place.” That thought hadn’t occurred to him, either, but he was in first place with three skaters left to skate.

Regardless of where he ended up, he was very proud of what he had done. He knew Yuri would be, too.

~~~~~~~~

Otabek went backstage, and took off his skates, sitting around to wait for the final three skaters to skate. He had taken a moment to get out his phone to text Yuri and found several messages from him.

Yuri OMG you look so good out there

Yuri your warm-up looked awesome!

Yuri don’t worry about JJ, you’ll do great!

Yuri that program was fucking awesome!

Yuri that’s your highest score yet!

Otabek smiled, immediately texting him back.

Thank you, kitten. I’m glad you approve. I hope I made you proud.

Yuri’s reply was immediate.

You did. You were fucking amazing. I love you so much.

I love you, too, kitten.

Otabek watched as the final three skaters performed, and ended the night in third place. Third! The top six at the end of the night were:

Yuuri Katsuki JPN - 119.01

Viktor Nikiforov - RUS - 117.23

Otabek Altin - KAZ - 116.37

Jean-Jacques Leroy - CAN - 114.95

Christophe Giacometti - SUI - 111.05

Guang-hong Ji - CHN - 105.42

He had wanted to see Yuri right away, but he had interviews and the press conference so that would have to wait. He texted him, telling him to go back to the hotel room and wait because it might be a while. He hated all this shit, though, and would much rather be back with Yuri. It was part of the job, though, so he would do it.

~~~~~~~~~

Otabek was exhausted by the time he got back to their hotel room. Yuri was laying in bed - he assumed his mother had helped him out, but she wasn’t here. The blond smiled as soon as he saw him. He went over, sitting on the bed next to him and wrapping his arms around him. “You were so good, you were so fucking good,” he said. “I wish I had been skating there with you, though.”

Otabek pressed a kiss to the side of Yuri’s face. “I know, I know, but I did it all for you,” he said. “You were all I was thinking about the entire time. I wanted you there with me.”

Yuri kissed him firmly. “You’re going to be awesome in the free, I just know.” He kissed him again. “And then I promise you, next year, I’ll give you a run for your fucking money. It’ll be you and me because let’s face it, Katsudon and Viktor will probably retire into domestic bliss. That’s what I want - you and me controlling the figure skating world.”

Otabek smiled, kissing Yuri back. He was glad to see some of his lover’s usual fire. “That’s what I like to hear.” He reached a hand up and pet his hair. “I know this is so incredibly hard for you, and you’re being so very strong. I will do everything I can for you to help you get better. Together, yes?” Yuri nodded.

Yes, together forever and always. No matter what.

~~~~~~~~~

The free skate was two days later, and Otabek skated last. He had to skate right after Viktor. Who the fuck decided that was a good idea? He skated last in his group, meaning it was a long wait for him. He heard Viktor’s scores, too, as he waited for his name to be called - it was high. He was second, though. He didn’t know who was leading but had to assume it was Yuuri.

He couldn’t think about that. He had to think about Yuri. Yuri was counting on him. He had to do this for Yuri. As Otabek took his place in the center of the ice, that was the only thing on his mind. As he went through the familiar moves of his free program, Yuri was in everything he did, every move he made. He could feel the energy in his program building, and through every jump, every flourish, it all seemed to be right.

When he finished, the crowd was cheering. He pretended he could hear Yuri screaming louder than everyone else, though he couldn’t. He skated off, putting on his skate guards before sitting in the Kiss and Cry with his coach. The scores were announced - 215.45. “He is currently in third place.” Third place. Third place! He had a medal! He was an Olympic Medalist.

He couldn’t wait to get done with the interviews and celebrate with Yuri, but they seemed to take forever. He knew that was how it worked, and that it wasn’t likely to stop because now he was an Olympic Medalist. He would figure all of that out later. As soon as he got back to the hotel, he felt better. Yuri was there waiting for him with open arms.

“I am so fucking proud of you,” he said into Otabek’s chest, which was sure to be tearstained. “You were so amazing.” Yuri lifted his head and kissed in between words. “You were perfect, and I’m so happy for you, and fuck that’s an Olympic Medal, your Olympic medal.”

Otabek chuckled, silencing Yuri with a kiss. “It was all for you, all of it,” he said. “This medal, that skate, everything.

“I will be there with you next time, I promise.”

“Then promise me you’ll start taking your pain meds and doing your exercises.” Yuri was silent. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed. You haven’t been yourself lately, and I get it, I do, but you need to take care of yourself. You always tell me that you’ll do it, but you don’t, and you won’t let me help you. I’ve been so wrapped up in everything, but I always notice you.”

Yuri was silent for a moment. “It’s just… hard. Watching you and everyone else do so well when I can’t even fucking walk, I -”

Otabek pressed a soft kiss to Yuri’s lips. “I know, kitten, but you won’t let me take care of you.”

“You’ve been busy.”

“I am never too busy for you, love.” He pressed another soft, lingering kiss to his boyfriend’s lips. “Let me help you.”

“I hate the medication. It makes me drowsy.”

“Then sleep. If it makes you heal, then who cares. I know you hate it, but it’s what’s necessary for you to get better.” Yuri nodded. “Will you let me help you now? Please, kitten?” Another nod from that blond head that he loved so much. “Okay. Good. Now, let me help you get undressed, then you can take half a dose now and then half a bit later, okay?” Yuri nodded, and Otabek pressed another kiss to the side of his face. “Let’s go, then.”

It wouldn’t be easy, but like everything, they would do it together.

#otabekaltinweek2018 #otayuri #otabek x yuri #otabek altin #yuri plisetsky #ooc #yoi fanfic

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