Jingle bells! Merry vitya-mas
Happy Vikmas!!
For a skater who’s supposed to have the world’s biggest glass heart, Yuuri surprisingly doesn’t feel anything besides adrenaline-fuelled calm as he begins descending through the trees.
Perhaps part of it is the fact that out here, only Viktor and the trees will ever see him crash and burn. Perhaps part of it is the fact that he’s already learnt several times during his childhood that the only thing panicking will get him out here is frostbite and a rescue operation, which will be even more embarrassing than whatever got him into that situation in the first place. He’s already been through the worst things that tree skiing could ever throw at him; the only thing he has to worry about here is the possibility that he could have misjudged the distance down to the chalet.
But then at least they’ll be closer to help, as opposed to up here halfway on the mountain with no one else for company.
Yuuri swerves, aiming for a large gap between two pines. The snow here is much more powdery than on the regular slope, spraying up around him as he manoeuvres through a powder bank. He can hear Viktor nearby; when he next glimpses his fiance, the man is slowly but steadily carving his way down just behind him.
They make it down halfway before something happens. Every couple meters, they stop and regroup, trying to make sure the other person is in sight. But somewhere past what surely has to be the halfway point Yuuri suddenly notices that Viktor is nowhere to be seen, and his heart freezes.
“Viktor?” he shouts, skidding to a stop and letting the powder fly everywhere. “Viktor, where –”
There’s a set of skis poking out of the bottom of a tree. Yuuri wills his heart to stay in his chest as he skis over to the tree, stopping and popping himself out of his skis.
“Viktor!” he shouts, stepping over cautiously to survey the damage. The skis have popped off with Viktor’s collision with the tree, but the poles and the man himself are buried in a well at the base of the tree.
He drops his own pole and leans over. “Viktor, I’ve got you. Don’t panic, okay?”
“Yuuri!” Viktor’s voice is muffled by the snow. “Yuuri, where are – I can’t see –”
“I’m going to try and get you out. You’re very close to a tree, so if you can move, try rocking yourself around to get some more air in.” Yuuri looks around, drags out Viktor’s skis and poles from the hole and lays them down with his own gear. Down below at what must be only a kilometer or two away is the chalet, a cheery chimney of smoke rising from the top. Phichit and Christophe must be back there by now, possibly getting ready for the gala tonight.
He turns his attention back to his stuck fiance. Viktor’s struggling has lessened, and he’s righted himself, methodically rocking himself back and forth in the space. Yuuri starts to dig at the snow, trying to get it down to a compact enough level for Viktor to clamber out.
“Are you okay?” he breathes, as soon as Viktor raises his goggles. “You didn’t hit your head, right?”
“No,” says Viktor, “I sorta skidded down here and rolled in on my side. Have you ever…?”
Yuuri snorts. “Too many,” he says.
“One time is too many,” Viktor points out.
“My point exactly.” Yuuri laughs a little, though at the moment he only has enough energy to get Viktor back to the chalet so that he can pass out in their room until the early evening. “Mari once dug me out of one when I was a kid; I was crying the entire time. I don’t know what terrifies my parents more, me falling on skating jumps or skiing into trees.”
“You’re just so determined to hurt yourself,” teases Viktor.
“I could leave you in this tree well.”
“No, please. I love you, get me out.”
Yuuri laughs, and continues to dig. Luckily for them, the snow is not ridiculously deep, and eventually between the two of them they manage to compact enough for Viktor to clamber out. By then, however, the shadows are starting to lengthen, and they’re still quite far from their destination.
Once he’s out, Viktor scrambles out clear of the hole and then flops down, looking up at the sky. “What a day,” he declares. “I almost died before my birthday.”
Yuuri laughs, sitting down next to him. “But you didn’t, because of me.”
“I’m never letting you leave the bed, just like I promised.” Viktor looks up at him. “Except first I need to find my energy again.”
“Maybe they’ll send out search parties,” says Yuuri. “I mean, we’re several hours overdue. Phichit’s probably super worried.”
“Oh god.” Viktor laughs wearily. “Chris will be, too. Maybe they’ll bond over being worried about us.”
Yuuri snorts at that. The next thing he knows, though, Viktor has tugged him down on top of him in a spray of white powder, raising one gloved hand to cup Yuuri’s cheek. Yuuri leans in, exhilaration still coursing headily through him as he looks at Viktor, watches the way his fiance’s eyes shift needily to his lips.
“There you two are!” an irritable voice cuts through. Moments later, a burst of snow hits Yuuri in the face and he scrambles off a heavily pouting Viktor just in time to see Yuri and Otabek, the two of them mounted on snowboards. Unsurprisingly, Yuri’s is patterned in leopard print to match his hat, scarf, and gloves. “Everyone’s been looking everywhere for you losers, and you’re just making out back here? What the hell?”
“Viktor fell into a tree well,” Yuuri explains, feeling his cheeks heat up. Next to Yuri, Otabek raises an eyebrow. “I just dug him out.”
“Whatever,” says Yuri, rolling his eyes as he claps his goggles back on. “We’re supposed to bring you back to the lodge, so come along.”
It takes them a couple minutes to snap on their skis again, but when they do, the rest of the trip back goes uneventfully.
send me ‘jingle bells’ for a ficlet
