((this is a bit short, but i haven’t written anything for the reverse AU in a while, and i wanted to remedy that! enjoy! ♥))
summary: Yuuri takes a hard fall at practice.
Victor has a lot of questions as to why the older man looks so washed out, and why his partner has never told him about his right knee.
word count: 1.4k
rating: T
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Most nights after practice, Yuuri does well to have a quick wash up, pet Yukachin, and put on loose pajamas before he hits the pillow and passes out. It’s especially tough to keep his eyes open after he and Victor have been bickering about programs, costumes, and so forth.
His pupil is much the same, exhaustedly dragging himself into bed in nothing but a fluffy robe, latching onto Yuuri with a shiver and making both of them grumble when they get too hot.
Life in St. Petersburg is peaceful for both of them, what with their evening routine occasionally interrupted by Yuri Plisetsky ardently knocking on the door and demanding that they feed him, and Yukachin slobbering for walks in the middle of the night.
Their days are packed – busy, and disastrously so – but Victor’s heart is always warmed when he looks over at his coach. They have matching bags under their eyes, frustrations they’ve worked through together, and life is good.
Until the day Yuuri takes a spill on the ice, Victor thinks they’ve talked about all of their biggest strains and personal issues. He mistakenly assumes that just because Yuuri is happy, is opening up to him more and more every day, that very little could happen that will make him upset with the love of his life.
//
Yakov is actually the first person to confirm something he’s been thinking about. Victor has razor sharp eyes, has been studying Yuuri Katsuki, the skater, since he was ten years old, but this is one area he doesn’t have full expertise in.
“He’s got a weak right knee,” Yakov grunts quietly, pausing to tell his newest student to correct his posture, feeling proud of Katsuki for powering through the tough motions of his program without a complaint. “It doesn’t seem like a new injury, either. He’s been taking care of it and making sure it doesn’t become an issue.”
The silver-haired young man purses his lips. I thought exactly the same. Yuuri makes sure that the both of them stretch thoroughly before practice, and ice down afterwards, if Victor so much as insinuates that he’s sore.
Victor can’t decide if he’s infuriated that Yuuri’s been hiding his injury, or whether he’s simply upset because he’s leapt to the wrong conclusion, and all along, Yuuri’s been a proper coach, taking care of Victor, making sure Victor doesn’t wind up breaking his legs in the rink.
One gloomy afternoon in the summer, where rain has just passed and the sun is starting to creep through the windows, Yuuri sets up for a triple loop and he completely wipes out. It’s a nasty fall. Victor and Yakov rush to his side while he’s still wincing, and both of their instincts kick in as Yuuri hesitatingly touches his leg.
“It’s your knee, right?” Victor scowls deeply. Yuuri neither confirms nor denies this. In fact, he point-blank refuses to look Victor in the eyes. “Yuuri.”
His coach sighs and slowly gives Victor a testy reply. “It’s not as bad as it looks.”
“Hah!” Yakov snorts, jabbing his index finger into the joint and scowls when the brunette scrunches his eyes and gasps in pain. “That so? Oy! Somebody call the medic. We’re sending Katsuki home.”
Yuuri attempts to stand and is stopped midway through doing so by Victor. His blue eyes are narrowed and hurt, and he knows he has an explanation to deliver. The real question is whether he’s ready to talk about it or not.
After he gets into a taxi, fussing with the medic and Yakov that he’s fine and Victor glares at him, he realizes that he needs to, so he sucks it up and pouts until he’s home in his bed, fully capable of walking to his bed, albeit shakily.
//
Victor and Yuuri sit in heavy silence before the older man folds his arms in his lap and says, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. It just wasn’t a big deal.”
“But it could’ve been a big deal,” Victor grumbles back, which just makes Yuuri irritated. After a moment, the silver-haired skater sighs and tones down his ire as he speaks. “Yuuri, I’m just worried about you. You making a comeback could destroy your knee if you’re not careful, and I don’t…” He chokes up a bit, and Yuuri realizes the true gravity of the situation at last. “I don’t want this year to keep you from skating forever.”
Yuuri reaches for Victor’s hand, drawing in a deep breath slowly. “I’m not planning on letting that happen, Victor. It was just one bad fall.”
Perhaps a bit viciously, Victor quips back, “So you’re planning on making that your last fall of the season, then?”
The brunette glares and pouts. “You didn’t have to say that like I fall all the time and you definitely don’t have to keep getting mad at me for actually trying to talk about this, Victor.”
Victor sighs and clenches Yuuri’s hand tightly. “Sorry,” he whispers tightly, still wound up. “You don’t know what it’s like, watching you fall.”
All the air had been snatched from his lungs. To see his idol slip and crash, to witness the struggle of someone Victor had long thought of as bigger than himself – it’s devastating. It burns even worse because Yuuri’s his partner, or at least, he’s supposed to be.
“I want to be there to support you, Yuuri,” Victor lifts Yuuri’s hand to his temple with a wobbly lower lip. “I want you to feel like you can trust me with anything, especially if it pertains to skating.”
Yuuri pauses for a moment before nodding. “Yeah.” Before he can stop himself, he quietly admits, “I just didn’t want you to find out about something so stupid. I didn’t want anyone to know. In a way, the timing of my break was perfect. My knee started to bother me just before I left Detroit.” Victor blinks at that. “What? Don’t give me that. It doesn’t hurt all the time, and it really isn’t that bad, Victor, I promise. I’ve been to the doctor. It’s easily sprained, is all. I might even have a torn meniscus, but surgery for that wouldn’t put me off of the ice for more than a week or two.”
Victor sighs, his lips slowly curving into a smile. “Okay. But next time, don’t wait to let me know you’re tired and your knee hurts until you’re hitting the ground, okay?”
The older man flicks his student in the forehead, sardonically grinning back. “Yes, yes. Now, are you going to let me rest or not?”
His student kisses his cheek and pushes Yuuri back against the pillows, making him sink back on the mattress a bit. The ice pack wrapped around his knee slips just slightly. “I thought you said it didn’t bother you that much.”
Yuuri rolls his eyes and tangles his fingers in Victor’s ponytail. “I swear to god, I’ll divorce you.”
Victor whines high in his throat when he pulls away from his coach’s lips. “We haven’t even gotten married yet!”
“I’ll marry you and then I’ll divorce you,” Yuuri assures him, deadpan as he keeps kissing his partner.
“Cruelty, truly,” Victor murmurs, softening at the edges and giving in. “No love for a suffering man, I tell you.”
“You’re the one who was all heated up,” Yuuri says as they finally settle properly and Victor sets the full brunt of his weight on Yuuri’s chest.
The younger man huffs. “I’m still mad.” He pokes Yuuri’s cheeks. “I’m not as upset as I was, but I’m still plenty mad. I plan on being infuriated for approximately the next ten hours.”
“That’s a long time,” Yuuri breathes out laboriously, waiting for Victor to move so he can properly inhale and exhale. “You’re sure about that?”
“No,” Victor quickly replies, rolling his eyes. “I’m just messing with you.”
The two of them get settled and just ramble about whatever until Yuuri dozes off and Victor toys with his phone.
It takes him longer than usual to get to sleep because he’s still worried about his coach, but he trusts that Yuuri does know what he’s doing. He’s been a professional athlete for a long time.
Victor doesn’t cling as tightly as he usually does, but he wakes to find Yuuri piddling around the room like nothing is wrong, so he smiles and tries to keep a lid on his worries, standing up to kiss the love of his life.
They have a lot to learn about each other, but that’s what Victor loves about their relationship.
Yuuri looks back at him with a reassuring expression and he knows that both of them are giving this their all.
In Victor’s humble opinion, that alone makes dating Yuuri worth it.
Both of them want to be there, want to be together, and he relishes every minute of Yuuri’s time.
((hello all!!! wonderful to be back. hope you all enjoy this installment of the series, are continuing to enjoy the reverse AU!! ♥♥♥ i took a poll to see what ppl wanted to see, and this was the result! enjoy~~
happy 2k on the blog!!! thanks for joining us, everybody! ♥ :’O))
summary: Usually, Yuuri has a very strict menu for himself and Victor to adhere to. It's mostly for his own benefit, because he's constantly concerned about staying in shape, what with his decision to come out of retirement and all.
Still, he and Victor hadn't spent a lot of time together in December because of skating competitions. He sends Victor on an errand to get him out of the house and rolls up his sleeves.
Yuuri is going to stun his fiancé today.
word count: 1.5k
rating: t
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Generally, Yuuri makes both of them lots of vegetables, fruits, and scatters nuts and odd protein-filled meats and beans into the menu whenever he can. Victor doesn't find all of the meals delectable, even if Yuuri is obviously talented, but this what they have to do to get their proper nutrition.
Their careers depend on them taking care of their bodies, and both of them are admittedly a little obsessive about it. That doesn’t mean they can’t take breaks - that Victor can’t enjoy ice cream on some weekends, and that Yuuri can’t dig into a whopping steak every once in a while - but they do try to eat clean.
Still.
“Victor,” Yuuri keeps his voice fairly low while he’s washing dishes from breakfast. “Could you head over to Mila’s place for me, please?”
The silver-haired man sits up on the couch, hair spilling in his bleary blue eyes. “You want me to go now?” The sun is barely up, and even though Victor is characteristically the happy morning person in their relationship, even he doesn’t feel like socializing at six a.m. when the sun has barely risen. “Is it urgent?”
“Yeah,” Yuuri insists, taking his hands out of soap water to wipe them on his stained apron. “Sorry to ask, but I asked her to get something specific for me, and it’s going to be a little heavy. Can you help her bring it back to our place?”
Victor raises a brow, more than a little curious about whatever Yuuri could be alluding to. “What are you going to do?”
“The chores,” the older man clicks his tongue and Victor is appropriately cowed by the words. He’d skimped on cleaning the bathroom, his usual responsibility, because he’d had leg cramps like mad the night previous. “If you’re alright with that?”
“Yeah,” Victor answers quietly, hanging his head. He gathers his belongings before waving to his coach, and Yuuri puts a hand to his chest, slowly exhaling.
He could tell by the suspicious glint in Victor’s eyes that he’d almost been caught. Yuuri waits for ten minutes until he’s sure that Victor is far from the apartment to hurry down to the grocery store.
Yuuri had jauntily sent Mila a text, asking her to get some crotchety old typewriter from an antique market and that he was going to send Victor over to pick it up. He’s entrusted her with keeping his fiancé busy while he makes an early dinner for the two of them on their day off, trying his best to seem romantic.
It’s not his specialty. Truthfully, a year ago, he’d never even considered dating seriously, but now? He wants to do something kind and sappy for Victor.
They hadn’t been spending a lot of time together since Yuuri had been working on going back into the competitive circuit, so today, he’s going to cook for the younger man.
Specifically, he’s going to make all of his favorite dishes, with recipes handed down from his mother.
He’s determined to wow Victor with his technical prowess in the kitchen.
//
Mila texts Yuuri at three o’clock to let the man know that she can’t stall Victor a moment longer and that he’s on his way home. It’s too late for lunch and too early for dinner, but Yuuri is pretty much finished by the time the text arrives, so he heads for the bathroom.
After he takes a shower, he shies away from using the hair gel, as is his reflex. Today is special. He’s just going to comb his locks, which are frankly getting a bit long for his tastes, and wear one of the nicer outfits that Victor had picked out for him.
Yukachin licks at Yuuri’s damp heels and the man hisses at the dog, trying to slip into a pair of dark slim-fit jeans and cursing all the while. Victor comes home, rattles around in the landing with the typewriter, among other things, and is floored to find that Yuuri has a candle lit in the room. Mila quickly waves goodbye before Victor can utter a word, finding the brunette seated at the table, smiling softly.
“I, this, huh?” Victor blinks for a moment, a flush creeping onto his cheeks. “Mila didn’t even say hi to you - wait,” after a pause, he scowls. “Did you plan this? She dragged me all over the city to find this, and made me look at pictures of Sara for an hour, trying to stop me from taking the train back while lugging this. We even bought new clothes.”
“Sorry,” Yuuri shrugs, nervously fiddling with his hands. “I’m sure you’re tired. Do you want to eat?”
Victor sucks in a deep breath, then really takes in the sights.
Yuuri looks truly beautiful, and the food is still warm. Steam is rising from most of the dishes, all of them foreign looking. They have a hodgepodge set of ceramics, some pieces bought and others donated to them by Lilia, Nikolai, and Mila. The older man has a worn out look himself, but he’s wearing a baby blue pinstriped shirt and dark washed jeans. His bangs are down, slightly curly from being improperly dried, and Victor’s mouth becomes dry.
“What’s...” The younger man coughs and continues, “What’s the occasion?”
“I just figured we hadn’t spent much time together,” Yuuri answers him, standing up with watery eyes. “Is this okay?”
“More than okay,” Victor says suddenly, taking long strides to bundle his coach in his arms and squeezing him until Yuuri complains of lack of air. Once he realizes that he’s suffocating the shorter man, Victor loosens his grasp and lets out a long sigh. “This looks fantastic, Yuuri. Thank you. I feel underdressed, though.”
“No, not at all,” Yuuri murmurs, flushing. “I just. Wanted to spend some time together, since we haven’t been able to lately. I hope you like Japanese. These are all home recipes.”
“Yes,” Victor says, holding Yuuri’s gaze in a meaningful way. “I love it.” He kisses the brunette on the forehead before rushing to take a seat. Instead of sitting across from Yuuri at the rectangular table, he moves his chair as close as he can to Yuuri, undoes his ponytail to let his hair fall and sighs with relief. Once he settles in, he moves his leg to play footsie with his coach and the older man gives Victor a half-hearted glare.
“Stop that,” Yuuri whispers, trying not to smile. “Eat your food.”
“What’re we having?”
“Ochazuke,” the older man easily pronounces the name of the dish, then moves on to explaining it before pointing to the others. “It’s like, rice, green tea, and seaweed, along with spices. Then, I made some squash, fried fish, something like potato salad, and I have some beer, if you’d like?”
“No,” Victor shakes his head. “We’ve got practice tomorrow, so I think I’ll stick to water. Once I start drinking, I can’t stop.”
“Same here.” Yuuri says, passing Victor a pair of chopsticks before pressing his hands together. As soon as they say their thanks, Yukachin pads around the table, begging for scraps, and both men have to ward her off carefully while they enjoy the food.
Victor eats it all with a happy flush, stuffing his cheeks. “All of this is amazing! I didn’t know you could cook like this.”
“Terrible for you, all of it,” the brunette replies fondly. “But hey. It’s our day off.”
They eat in relative quiet, Yuuri flicking his eyes from his food, to the panting poodle at his side and back to the beautiful man sitting at the table with him.
Victor wipes his mouth when he’s finished, lazily grinning at his partner. “What are you staring at?”
“Nothing in particular,” Yuuri quips back and Victor rolls his eyes, standing up and putting a hand on the older man’s shoulders.
“So I’m nothing now, is that it?” Victor’s voice is tinny as he encourages his coach to stand up and leave the mess on the table behind. “I’ll clean everything up later, Yuuri. First, come here.”
“What is it, nerd?” Victor slowly walks Yuuri to a wall and puts a hand on Yuuri’s slightly chapped lips. Yuuri slowly smiles, breath coming quickly. “You been watching too many dramas?”
“Maybe just a few,” Victor breathes, letting his gorgeous eyes fall closed as he leans down. “Could I have a kiss?”
“Of course,” Yuuri answers him by putting his hands over Victor’s shoulders, nails digging into the fabric of his sweater.
Their lips meet for several moments before they pull away, Victor’s hand cushioning Yuuri’s neck against the wall. In a daze, they slip out of the hold, both parties grinning like fools. Yuuri watches Victor clean up from the couch, still dazed that this is his life.
Before things can be truly peaceful, Victor whispers, “I’m still mad about the typewriter, by the way.”
His fiancé chuckles and rubs Victor’s chin. “I’m sorry. I really do love antique typewriters, so I’ll probably get it fixed and use it.”
The mental picture of Yuuri hunching over the keys and smudging his fingers with ink is enticing, and it abates some of Victor’s irritation for the moment. Once he relaxes, sighing against Yuuri, he gives up the frustration entirely, enjoying the moment.
They feed Yukachin and cuddle in front of the television until it gets truly late, dozing off with fingers interlaced, gold bands warm on their hands.
((this idea occurred in a chat and i, currently, am dying ♥♥♥ this takes place around the time of flipped ep 4, ie, when victor is trying to nail his program music for his FS. see rivalry for a lead-in! ♥))
summary: Victor groans. Yuuri Katsuki: Unexpected Fashion Disaster.
He has to amend this travesty.
word count: 1.4k
rating: g
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Victor looks up from his book to glance up at his new coach. Yuuri is sitting on the ground, rubbing Yukachin’s belly, and cooing to the big fluffball.
This is the fourth day that Yuuri’s pulled a turtleneck out of the drawer in Victor’s dresser. The color scheme of the man’s clothing is generally pretty muted - lots of gray, blue, and black; maybe red accents in splashes. Victor’s seen his coach in jerseys, turtlenecks, oversized sweaters, and huge coats.
Now that they’ve been living together for a couple of months, Victor realizes that, regardless of Yuuri’s infrequent shopping trips for a few more outfits, this is just the older man’s preference.
It makes him groan. Yuuri Katsuki: Unexpected Fashion Disaster.
He has to amend this travesty.
“Yuuri,” Victor starts, hating the fact that his voice comes out a little croaky from disuse. “Don’t you have anything...else to wear?”
The older man peers over the top of his glasses, and honestly, if Victor weren’t actively trying to repress his urge to sit beside Yuuri and poke his cheeks, he’d scream. “Mm. Are my clothes weird?”
“They are outdated and frumpy,” Victor bluntly replies and Yuuri yelps, withdrawing into himself. “Let’s go shopping!”
Yuuri pouts as he pushes himself away from the floor, standing with his hands on his hips. “Are they really that bad?”
Victor, who had grown up used to posters and images of Yuuri in regal colors and clinging fabric, is now glancing up and down at his idol’s clothes. His neck is covered by a baby-blue fabric and the track pants are unflattering on Yuuri’s curvy hips.
Everything he’s wearing is two sizes too big, and Victor sighs. “Come on. I’ll pick out something nice for you to wear!”
“Where will I wear it?” Yuuri asks, fumbling a bit as Victor takes his hand, pats Yukachin on the head, and hurries to grab his keys and wallet. “Victor!”
“Anywhere you want.” Victor beams.
If they ever go out for dinner, or, heaven forbid, a date, Yuuri will look fantastic across from him at the table. Victor is a master thrift shopper, but this isn’t the day for that. Really successful thrifting takes time and effort. Yuuri has shown himself to have no patience for shopping if he’s not buying groceries, so instead, they’re going to some of his favorite stores.
//
There are several unsuccessful outfit trials before Yuuri tiredly grumbles about grabbing something to eat. Victor gets both of them roasted potatoes from a street vendor and they nibble for a few minutes before continuing the journey. After Victor’s usual routes are expended, he decides to head for a boutique store that catches his eye, especially with so many floral patterns featured in the window.
Yuuri pinches the bridge of his nose and stifles a yawn as Victor slinks an arm over his coach’s shoulder. “How about that place?” Some of the clothes on display look a bit risqué and Yuuri colors, about to shake his head, but Victor leers. “C’mon, you could at least try a few things on. You’ve worn skimpier things for competitions.”
“Th-That’s different!” The older man scowls at Victor. “I can put on a persona on the ice. It’s just a dance, essentially. I can’t just...walk out on the street in some of that stuff.”
“Why not?” Victor shrugs shamelessly and Yuuri gapes at the taller man. “My rule is, do what you want and let other people talk. At least they’re talking about you, right?”
I will never understand this mentality, Yuuri thinks to himself, surprised to find that he’s been tugged into the store.
Once the two men are inside, Victor speaks rapid-fire Russian with the sales clerk and comes up with three well-crafted outfits, all in semi-neutral colors. Yuuri glances at the details and flushes, narrowing his eyes at his innocent-looking pupil and the woman giggling that has all the clothes carefully balanced on her arms.
After sorting through pants and shirts, Yuuri emerges from the dressing room in a showstopper, hair slightly mussed because of all the clothing changes. Victor’s mouth falls open at the sight of the shorter man standing tiredly, eyes slightly red, hands resting at his sides.
Yuuri looks like a runway model, dressed in such crisp lines. He puts his glasses on in a slow motion, turns around to nervously inspect his backside as best he can, and asks, “You don’t think these pants are too tight?”
Victor’s blue eyes are glued to every cling of the matte black jeans. The button-down that Yuuri has tucked into it has sheer lace around the cut of Yuuri’s shoulders makes him swallow dryly. It has flowers incorporated into the peekaboo part of the shirt. His coach looks. He looks...
“Yuuri, you look amazing,” Victor breathlessly comments, clutching his chest, aware that his pulse must be racing out of control. Yuuri snorts and it makes his lips fall just a bit. “It’s true! You really, really do. It’s borderline illegal.”
At that, the older man looks down at the floor and puts his thumbs in the pockets. “Well, these don’t feel too bad, honestly. Kinda stretchy. I could go for this outfit.”
Victor’s back goes ramrod straight, nodding his head five times quickly. “Yeah, yeah, yeah!! I’ll totally buy it myself, just so you can wear clothes that I got you.” Yuuri’s still blushing a bit, and that makes Victor smirk. “Kinda cool, huh?”
“Oh, shut it,” Yuuri says, squinting at the price tags and pursing his lips. “I can at least go half, these are expensive.” When he looks up, Victor has already dashed off. “Victor?”
“Too late,” Victor replies softly, handing the clerk his credit card and sticking his left leg up in jittery excitement.
Yuuri snorts at his antics, watching as Victor gestures wildly and a woman comes up to him to clip off the tags so that he can just wear the outfit out of the store.
//
Yuuri is already quite well-known in St. Petersburg. He’s a handsome foreigner and a figure skater, besides. A lot of people in this town are dialed into the skating scene, and, well, Yuuri stands out.
Now, Victor is hovering within Yuuri’s general bubble, trying to give off a vibe that his coach isn’t available for courting. Women are staring at him openly and Yuuri himself is walking awkwardly, still trying to get used to the feeling of his clothes. With such nice clothing on, Yuuri needs to get new shoes - Victor insists - so they stop into a leather goods store and Victor buys him shiny loafers.
By the time they slump back into the apartment to feed Yuka and let her take care of her business, Yuuri is ready to peel himself out of his clothes, but Victor insists on taking a few selfies before the outfit is retired for the day.
Once Yuuri finally puts his sweatpants on and a comfy t-shirt, Victor smiles. “Thanks for playing along with me. I know it was hard.”
Yuuri adjusts his position on the couch, yawning as he toys with his phone, smiling softly as his bangs fully fall out his gelled style. “It wasn’t too bad, actually. I just don’t know how I’m going to wash that and keep it looking nice. Definitely can’t pick up any more weight and keep wearing that.”
“That was absolutely incredible Yuuri - you could pull something that wonderful off no matter what size you were,” Victor insists and Yuuri slumps further into the couch. “I had a great time. Thanks.”
Yuuri waves at his student with a tired smile. “Yeah. Same here. G’night, Victor.”
Victor picks up his phone and Yukachin pads around Yuuri for a while before following Victor back to the bedroom. The younger man gives his coach a longing look before whispering back, “G’night,” and heading to his bed.
When he crawls under the covers, absently scratching Yuka’s chin, he flicks through his photos and lingers all of Yuuri’s tender expressions, paying special attention to the soft look Yuuri gives him while they’re standing in the kitchen.
It’s so horribly domestic, and Victor hates that he wants more.
He’s a greedy man, and Yuuri is so beautiful he could cry.
He makes it a goal to expand Yuuri’s wardrobe so dramatically that all of his coach’s clothes don’t just fit in one drawer.
fun fact, yuuri’s outfit is from this ref - do with that what you will. thanks for reading! ♥
((hello all!! welcome back to the reverse au! quite a bit has been happenin’ on the blog since the last update, hahaha, but here ya go. ;) ♥♥♥ as always, i luv the reverse au! ♥ ps - don’t forget to check out [rev au zine signups]! ♥))
summary: Yuri pulls Victor to the side with an unkind expression and the older skater wills himself not to snap at the teenager. "So what comes next? What's your scheme here?"
Victor takes a long moment to compose himself. He has to be the adult here. "There is no scheme, Yura."
For the time being, they are at an impasse.
word count: ~2.8k
rating: t
✮chapter 1 | ✮read on ao3 | ✮reverse fic tag | ✮reverse art tag
→my personal | →em’s art blog!
Yuuri decides to organize his tour of Hasetsu in neat little blocks. First, he’s going to take his guests to the city, where they can shop. Then, he’s going to take them to his favorite restaurant near the pier. After that, there will be stops at his childhood hang out spots - Minako’s ballet studio and Ice Castle Hasetsu.
Victor insists on taking a photo with his fiancé at every monument. Yuuri is pretty relaxed about it, all things considered, because he likes to move at a slow pace, and he knows how much Victor likes taking pictures for his social media. The person who is surprisingly quiet during the first part of their journey is Yuri.
The older men loop arms and let him be for the first few hours of the morning, because the teenager is groggy and jet-lagged. They’ve all been up earlier for practice, of course, but this is vacation, and if the blonde wants to hang back and let them chat about the history of Hasetsu, Victor and Yuuri are patient and understanding about his wishes.
He still manages to snap a few pictures, though, because the statues are just too ridiculous to pass up.
Once the three of them get to the market area of town, Yuuri is pleased to see that the blonde is excited. Yuri drifts between the narrow shops, excitedly lingering around one particular t-shirt. Victor, meanwhile, is fawning over different earrings and pointing them out to his partner, who is just rolling his eyes.
Yuuri approaches their young companion and says, “If you like it, you should get it.”
The blonde scoffs at him. “I’m going to, Fluffy. Stop breathing down my neck.” Yuuri shrugs at that, heading back to Victor’s side, where the tall man immediately attaches himself to the brunette’s back.
The older men are disgusting, and it’s truly outstanding that Yuri hasn’t dropkicked both of them into a ditch yet.
//
When they stop for lunch, arms laden with bags, Yuri and Yuuri are both exhausted. Victor, on the other hand, looks like he couldn’t be more refreshed, fussing with the new blue earrings Yuuri had just bought him and his abundance of purchases. Lunch turns out to be nothing fancy - it’s just a stall that overlooks the ocean, but Yuuri murmurs with the owner for a time until three steaming bowls of ramen are in front of them.
Victor and Yuri drool over the smell of the meal for a time until Yuuri presses his hands together and murmurs, breaking apart the disposable chopsticks. The two younger skaters stare at him as he fluidly eats his meal, and he raises an eyebrow at them with foggy glasses.
Yuri snorts, but his waiting comment is cut off by Victor’s smirk. “So, are you going to embarrass yourself out here too, Yura?” Yuri clenches a fist, cheeks growing warm. Yuuri, stuck between the hotheaded younger skaters, just ducks his head down and continues to eat, ignoring the splashes of broth from the foreigners digging into ramen with sloppy chopstick technique.
The stand owner pats Yuuri on the shoulder. The dark haired man just smiles back to him apologetically, murmuring that the two of them will definitely be cleaning up behind themselves.
Walking down the shores after their meal keeps Victor alarmingly quiet and distant. Yuuri wants to reach out, but he decides to talk absently with the teenager instead.
Yuri looks at Victor, reaching out to the ocean, and says, “He always does this.”
“Does what?”
He points. “He likes the sounds the seagulls make.” Green eyes flick upwards at Yuuri. “He’s never told you that before?”
Yuuri’s lips grow thin as he presses them together. “I guess it’s never come up.”
Victor puts his right hand out to the midday sun before sighing in contentment, rushing back to Yuuri’s side, slipping their hands together. Yuuri smiles at the warmth of him, although he’s curious to know what’s going on in Victor’s head.
//
Their final two stops provide more insight about the eldest of their group than the rest of their trip. In fact, Yuuri schedules his time with the rink and the studio for the following day, so that his guests have plenty of time to rest before they spend time with Minako and the Nishigori family.
The name of the second group startles Victor at dinner. “Who?”
“Mm,” Mari pats Victor on the back. “Yuuri’s childhood friends. You’ll like them. Sweet.” Her English is choppy, but that isn’t why the blue-eyed man is startled. He stares at his coach in wonder.
It makes him realize there are things he doesn’t know about Yuuri, despite the older man’s lengthy catalogue of interviews that he’s poured over.
Hiroko tries to swat at her son’s head, trying to muss his hair at the table, but Yuuri swerves to avoid her hands. Toshiya tries to give Victor and Yuuri some of his fine saké and Yuuri vehemently refuses, turning dark red at the notion of casually drinking while he’s home. Victor gets breathless and giggly at the actions of the Katsuki family.
The blonde teenager stews in a quiet rage for most of the evening, trying to gather his thoughts as far as what he’s going to tell Victor before their week of vacation is over.
//
Minako beams when Yuuri and his small entourage come into the studio. There isn’t much to see, but even Yuri marvels at the beauty of the small studio. The long-haired woman leans against the walls and talks to her old student, congratulating Yuuri on his engagement and giggling when the twenty-eight year old flushes and twiddles his thumbs, looking outrageously young in the moment. She suppresses the urge to bundle him up in her arms for protection, doing a small twirl instead, still as poised and graceful as she ever was.
Yuuri says as much and Minako pinches his soft cheek. “I never fell out of practice. Did you?” He grumbles for a minute, edging away from her and failing to escape the grasp of her long fingers. “I have spare sweats in the dressing room. Go change and do your stretches. The Ice Castle can wait.”
“Minako-sensei,” Yuuri whines. He’s been teaching Victor the basics, and he’s not out of practice with his ballet training, per se. He’s just been more focused on getting in shape for the next skating season.
She still drives him hard while Victor and Yuri watch, amazed to see the older skater moving through the steps, even though Minako is calmly correcting every one of his minute mistakes.
In that moment, Victor feels both a cathartic pleasure in seeing his coach suffer and a sad empathy for Yuuri’s plight, knowing that Yuuri had worked him just as hard the previous season. Now, at least, he sees where the man gets his drive for ballet from.
His eyes drift over to Yuri, who pulls further into himself as Victor’s coach dances. When the teenager notices Victor staring, he stands up and jerks his hand towards the hallway. “We’ll be back,” Yuri spits the words out, waiting for Victor to stand up and follow him with a sigh.
The long-haired skater waits until they are a fair distance from the studio to fold his arms over his chest. The teenager glares at him for a time, so Victor closes his eyes and opens the platform for discussion, not in the mood to wait for Yuri to violently lash out at him. “Yura, what is it?” Victor likes surprises, but he doesn’t like playing guessing games with his young rinkmate. Guessing what Yuri’s trying to tell him is like pulling teeth from a feral animal. When Yuri still doesn’t say anything, Victor turns on his heel and almost catches his leg on the blonde’s. “Honestly. I am trying to listen. What do you want?”
“What’s your angle?” The young man turns his head sharply, glaring at Victor with full force. “What’s your scheme?”
Victor impatiently scowls. “Yura, what? What are you talking about?”
Yuri grabs Victor by the collar, making the taller man’s eyes narrow. “What is the point of all this dumb shit? You hang around with your coach all the time in Saint Petersburg, so what’s different this time? You always keep your crushes around and then you drop them, so why are you so...disgusting this time? I’ve never seen you like this.”
An obnoxious snort passes through Victor’s flared nostrils. “I don’t know if you somehow missed the memo, but we are engaged.” Victor forcefully pulls out the teenager’s grip to flash his ring, angry energy rising in his chest. “Yes, it’s different. I love Yuuri, and you know why we’re here. So cut the crap and tell me why you really called me out here.”
“Are you serious about this?” A hard edge bites at the teenager’s tone, and if Victor weren’t trying so hard not to snap, he would shake the blonde down and tell him to watch his manners. “You’re honestly fine with life like this? You’re not one for settling down, Nikiforov, let alone in this sleepy little port town. What’s your game?”
After sucking in several deep breaths, Victor presses his lips in a line. “There is no game, Yura. I told you my reasons. If this is where Yuuri wants to move after we retire, I’ll consider it.” Clarity hits Victor in that moment, and he laughs quickly. “You’re frustrated! About what? My retirement? Yuuri’s? The fact that we could be leaving you? You’re being a child.”
This makes Yuri drop his fists and snarl, kicking at the floor. Victor smiles at that. Yuri is being roundabout with his fury, but at the end of the day, he’s still very young, and he’s never been good at verbalizing himself.
“It’s not a decision I have to make any time soon,” Victor assures him quietly, lowering his arms and walking away. “When I’m ready to leave Russia, I’ll do it on my own terms, and I don’t care what anyone says, you can’t stop me.”
Yuri stays there with his hands curled in fists for several more minutes, waiting for Yuuri and Victor to emerge from the ballet studio and link arms as they walk to the ice rink.
Yuuri flicks dark eyes back to the teenager a couple of times, fidgeting with his glasses and wondering why the youth looks so terribly furious.
//
Yuuko, Takeshi, and their three children rush to greet Yuuri as soon as they walk up to the rental counter at Ice Castle. None of them had brought their proper skating gear, because they’d come to Hasetsu on vacation, so they’re really just here to meet Yuuri’s friends and hang out for a while.
The petite woman has a bright smile, and she’s so soft around Yuuri that it makes both of his guests stare in wonder. Amazingly, the more physical of the couple is Takeshi, who pulls Yuuri close and ruffles his hair. It’s always such a treat for Victor to see Yuuri with his hair less polished that he jumps at the sight, enamored all over again.
Once the triplets tell Yuuri their stories, he ushers them out of the rink with a wave to the Nishigoris, headed home for the afternoon. He lets Victor walk ahead of him as they walk down the steep slopes, giving his partner a knowing nod and walking beside Yuri.
Yuuri sticks his hands in his pants pockets and smiles gently. “Everything alright? Are you not having fun?”
Yuri shakes his head, pouting. “It’s fine, I guess. Weird. Not bad.”
“Mm,” the older man says, reaching out for the blonde and startling the teenager with a soft grip on Yuri’s shoulder. “You know we’re always here for you, right? You’re not like, fighting us by yourself. We’re here for support.”
Green eyes flick up to Victor, who had nearly throttled him earlier, blue eyes cutting and sharp. It hadn’t exactly been a moment full of support. “Just something stupid. None of your business, Fluffy.”
Yuuri shrugs and sighs. “If you say so. Just remember that, okay?”
Victor had said the same things earlier, even though he’d been testy. Yuri supposes that he really should start trusting that they do want to hear what he has to say, even if he himself isn’t sure what he’s thinking about.
//
The next few days, the Katsuki family mostly stays in, asking Yuuri to do a few chores. Victor volunteers to help as well, and drags Yuri to aid them as well.
Over the course of the week, Victor gains key insights to Yuuri’s childhood from his relatives. There’s a lot of hodgepodge translating going on via Yuuri and Mari, but Victor understands that Hiroko is a soft, cuddly woman, much like her son.
She pokes at Victor, tangles her fingers in Victor’s hair, just smiling. Victor learns to lean back and let her have her way, loving the feeling of her soft fingers on his scalp. Yuuri hisses and Mari rolls her eyes, but for the most part Toshiya just smiles and watches the madness unfold in his house.
Everyone gradually includes the teen in their antics as well, fussing with his blonde locks. Mari pulls Yuri into a headlock when he’s supposed to be peeling potatoes, and when he stumbles into her chest, they all share a long laugh and Mari just pats him on the back, knowing he hadn’t meant anything by it.
By the time they ship off, Yuuri’s family hugs the three guys. Hiroko and Toshiya both pat their son quickly on the shoulders before Minako zips by in her little car.
It is most telling that Yuri falls asleep as soon as they get on their train to the airport.
Yuuri leans over the armrest to whisper to Victor, “Do you think we wore him out?”
“He invited himself. Let him be a little worn down,” Victor murmurs back, fingers running over Yuuri’s. “I really am worried about him. Perhaps he’s gotten a bit attached.”
Yuuri fixes Victor with a look. “And that’s a bad thing?”
Victor hums, sinking more lowly into his chair. “No. Not bad at all. I just wish he’d come out and say so. His teenage angst is driving me up a wall.”
Yuuri flicks Victor in the forehead. “Don’t say that sort of stuff around him. We’re supposed to be people he can lean on when he needs help.”
“And he can get it,” Victor says, kissing his fiancé quickly on the cheek, “Once he’s ready to ask and to listen. I don’t like being kicked in the shins for being nice to him, you know.”
“You make fun of him for being short once a week. What’s fair is fair.” To add insult to injury, Yuuri kisses Victor chastely on his pouty lips. “He’ll come around. Like you said, he just needs time.”
Victor sighs in understanding. “I know.” After a pause, he grips Yuuri’s hand tightly.
//
[extra]
Long after Yuuri’s flight takes off, the Nishigoris, Katsukis, and Minako have a conference after all of them get off of work.
Hiroko is the first one to speak, leaning against her husband, who loops an arm around her waist. “He seems like a nice boy.”
“Very tall. And so handsome!!” Minako claps her hands together and Mari rolls her eyes. “How did the week go?”
“It was nice,” Mari says, poking Axel in the head lightly when the little girl tries to slap the woman in the neck. “They brought a kid with ‘em, real cute. Surly. Reminds me of one my favorite members of a band. You can tell that the three of them are close.”
“Ahh, yes,” Yuuko bubbles over at that, reaching across the table to pass Minako more liquor. “I’ve never seen Yuuri so touchy with anyone before! What a cutie.”
“I know, right?” Takeshi chimes in between ruffling Loop and Lutz’s loose hair. “I mean, it’s really nice to just see him so at peace. Feels like it’s been years since he came home and just really took a break. He was always just here to pay his dues and then get back to skating. This was a proper visit.”
Hiroko smiles, holding out her glass when Mari offers to pour her more as the bottle makes its’ rounds at the table. “Yuuri’s always been so reserved, so I’m glad. His boyfriend really brings out the best in him.”
“Fiancé,” Toshiya murmurs in correction, pointing to his own ring. “Those two couldn’t stop holding hands or flashing those rings. Young love shines brightest, or so they say.”
A shared laugh passes around the table while they eat snacks and drink, Takeshi and Yuuko jetting off first so that they can get the triplets to bed.
The rest of the evening is spent talking about Yuuri’s flustered embarrassment and refusal to translate everything his parents had said about he and Victor, Mari’s love of Yuri, and their overall enjoyment of the company.
Minako toasts in the middle of the night, when Toshiya is starting to get loud and boisterous, “Miss them already!! To their future as a couple in skating, and to many more visits to Hasetsu!!”
The other three at the table lift their glasses for a clink.
((hi everybody!! welcome back to the rev au!! always wonderful to talk with you all and i hope you’re having a wonderful time here!! bc i sure am. :’) anyways, here’s this installment. enjoy! ♥♥♥ part 2 to come soon!))
summary: When Victor and Yuuri announce that they’re going to vacation in Japan for a week in the summer, they don’t expect their teenaged rink mate to come stomping up to them after practice.
“I’m coming too,” Yuri Plisetsky snarls. “No way I’m letting you two go overseas for secret practice sessions or something. What time is your flight?”
Yuuri sighs when he gives him an answer. It’s good that his family home is an inn.
word count: 2k+
rating: t
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Yuuri and Victor glance at the calendar to find the best dates for a vacation and book their tickets early in January. Tourism will reach a bit of a lull in Hasetsu in the summer, skating season will be briefly reprieved, and this gives them plenty of time to see the city, and for Yuuri to finally introduce his fiancé to his family.
Since he’s a fairly old-fashioned person, it feels a little bit silly that this will be the first time Victor’s met Hiroko, Toshiya, and Mari, but hey. He’d tripped into his romance with the other skater in St. Petersburg, and the two of them have proven that there’s nothing wrong with being unconventional.
As the trip gets closer in April, the two of them discuss what kinds of clothes to pack. Victor reties his ponytail absently, talking about swimsuits, and then Yuri skates over and skids to a stop between the taller skaters.
“Rumor has it that you’re headed to Japan,” the teenager says, turning his head to spend equal amounts of time glaring at Yuuri and Victor. “I want details.”
Yuuri rolls his eyes at the blonde. “We’re going to my parents’ place for a week or so. They live in a small town, but, hey. It’s home.”
“I’m so excited!” Victor leans over and clasps his hands together against his chest. “We’re going to have so much good food. I’ll get to meet Yuuri’s family. It’s going to be fantastic.”
There is a beat of silence before Yuri snarls, “I want in.” The older men blink at him as he kicks the blade of his skate into the ice.
Victor raises a brow at the blonde, tossing an arm over Yuri’s shoulder. “What’s this? Just yesterday you were whining about much you hated staying on our couch, and now you want to go on vacation with us? Yura, you silly boy! Why didn’t you just say you wanted to spend more time together?”
At the teasing tone, Yuri snarls and Victor’s coach sighs, gently pulling them apart so that they can’t knock each other over on the ice. “Yura, if you want to go, I’ll email you the flight details. Did you want me to get you a ticket?”
“No,” Yuri grumbles, pushing off with a flick of his wrist. “I can pay for myself, fluffy. No way I’m letting you two go off to practice in secret. Get back to work, losers!”
Yuuri sighs with a small smile. “When is he going to admit that he loves being around us?”
Victor shrugs, kissing Yuuri quickly on the cheek. “Probably when he’s thirty-two. He’s like fine wine - much improved with age.”
The older man snorts at the comparison, agreeing quietly.
//
The three of them land in the airport, take the train to Hasetsu, and relax until they unload. Yuri and Victor look around in awe, even though both of them have had competitions in Japan, this kind of experience is different. Both of the visitors take in the landscape until they make their way to the port town. When they arrive at the quiet little station, Yuuri is momentarily embarrassed to remember that his home town pays high favor to his image.
Posters line every wall of Hasetsu station, and Yuuri pushes his student and the teenager out of there in a hurry, blushing and refusing autographs under his breath.
Victor digs his heels in, though, determined to take a selfie in front of the posters with the real Yuuri beside him. “You look so charming in this photo! Imagine all the press we’ll get once I tweet that we’re here together.” Yuri sticks out his tongue at them and Yuuri refuses, dragging both of them aboveground before people can flock over and bombard him with questions.
The trouble of being an internationally renowned athlete from a small town is that there is no place to escape from his notoriety here. As soon as the three of them are aboveground, Yuuri is startled to find his old ballet instructor waiting for him with her small car.
“Yuuri!” Minako says, twirling around with a banner that reads Welcome Home in kanji. “It’s great to see you!”
He laughs awkwardly, willing his heartbeat to slow down. He’d expected to have to flag down a cab, but this is certainly more convenient. “Minako-sensei,” Yuuri politely bows to her, barely refraining from speaking Japanese. “I’m home.”
//
Minako chatters to Yuuri in battered English until they make it to the inn. Victor joins in at irregular intervals and she drives along with a chipper tone. Once she drops them off at the inn, Toshiya and Hiroko come to the landing; Yuri and Victor have to hold back their laughter as Yuuri motions to the couple.
He doesn’t even have to tell the blonde and the silver-haired man who they are.
Yuuri, with his soft cheeks and dimpled smile, looks just like his mother and father, albeit significantly slimmer than either of them.
As soon as everyone says their hellos and Yuuri plays translator for a few minutes, he furrows his brow and chirps for a time before eventually moving his guests to their bedrooms. Yuuri has to pry Victor out of his mother’s hands. The woman is so busy patting Victor down and playing with his hair that her son has to murmur reprimands.
Toshiya stands around watching the madness with a smile. Yuri eventually stamps his feet with frustration, spurning the eventual movement to the upper floors.
Yuuri and Victor slump on the single bed in the older skater’s somewhat barren room. There are a few posters up of dogs, but otherwise the place doesn’t look lived in. This is unsurprising, since Yuuri hasn’t lived in the room for years.
Both skaters share a look before they flop onto the mattress. Yuri stomps over after Mari shows the teenager to his room, almost walking in on the murmuring couple kissing. He gags and points to Yuuri, asking, “Where’s the bathroom? I wanna get washed up.”
“Yura,” Yuuri grunts, falling into the soft pile of Victor’s hair on the narrow space of his bed. “It’s public and it’s downstairs. Can’t this wait?”
The blonde snarls, “There’s no way I’m going into that open-air bath. Find me as soon as you wake up!” He slams the door shut when he leaves.
Once he’s gone, the men sigh and fall asleep, momentarily rolling their eyes at Yuri’s melodramatic entrance and exit.
//
In the evening, Yuuri ambles downstairs with a yawn. He’s put on clothes from his teenage days, which still fit, for the most part. Luckily, he’d always been fond of oversized t-shirts and sweatpants. Yuuri helps his sleepy fiancé into a jinbei before they head to the living room. He teaches Victor how to sit properly - not that it matters. Yuuri doesn’t expect Victor to sit with perfect posture, and, in fact, he tells his parents that they should let Victor do his own thing once they sit at the table.
Yuri emerges from his room looking as sleepy as the older couple. Victor and Yuuri greet him while Hiroko brings familiar dishes. The teenager sits angrily, and asks, “So, where’s the bath?”
“Shh,” the legendary skater shushes him with a wave, already nervous enough. “We’ll eat first. Besides, I need to talk to my parents.” He’s mentioned the engagement to Mari already, and he’s sure that his mother’s sharp eyes have noticed the band on his right hand.
Dinner begins around seven. Yuuri tries to teach the messy blonde how to eat with chopsticks properly, and is slapped for his efforts, which just makes Victor pouty. He curls up against Yuuri pretty quickly, making the older man jolt at the shock. Mari quirks an eyebrow at her baby brother, who is flushing.
Yuuri snaps to attention, cheeks hot. He bends into a bow that shakes Victor off of his shoulders for a minute and surprises his guests. “Sorry about the sequence of events, but I’m getting married. To a man. This one, to be specific.” He shakily lifts his hands as he points to Victor, who senses the gravity of the situation and grows still. “This is Victor. My, um. My fiancé.”
“Mm,” Hiroko murmurs, smiling softly as she puts her chopsticks down. “I knew you looked different. Does he make you happy?”
“Yeah…” Yuuri drawls, turning even more red. Victor flushes a bit at his gentle expression, wondering what Yuuri’s parents could be saying that’s making him so nervous. “He does.”
Toshiya snickers. “Who cares, then? Where will you live?”
“Good question,” Yuuri mumbles. He turns to Victor and coughs awkwardly. Mari and Yuri oversee the interaction with a sort of sick amusement. “Um, sorry. My parents are asking where we want to live, like. After we get married.”
Victor hums for a moment, grinning. “I don’t care, Yuuri. Wherever you like.”
Yuri snaps to attention at that. “What? You grew up in Saint Petersburg, and now you want to leave Russia? Fuck that.”
The silver-haired skater rolls his eyes. “I’m going to be retired, Yura. Why does it matter where I make roots?” Yuri clenches his fists and stands up, opening and closing his mouth rapidly. Yuuri moves to calm him down, but Victor grabs his partner’s wrist quickly. “It’s not an obligation for me to stay in Russia. Who knows? What if I fall in love with this town?”
The teenager stomps out of the room, making the Katsuki family stare at him with concern. Still, Victor puts on his business smile and bows to Yuuri’s parents, taking his partner’s hand and hoping that he conveys his sincere emotions.
Yuuri finishes introductions while feeling slightly removed.
Once Mari, Hiroko, and Toshiya have welcomed Victor with food and drinks, Yuuri slinks away, leaving the four of them to awkwardly communicate.
Meanwhile, Yuuri adjusts his glasses and goes to find the teen he shares a name with. He finds Yuri scowling in the hallway outside of the shower room, squatting and fuming. For a long moment, the older skater just stands there, waiting for the blonde to open room for discussion.
After a few minutes, Yuuri says, “If you don’t want to use the public bath, we can draw a bath for you in a private room.”
Yuri snorts. “Not in the mood. I think I’ll just shower in the morning.”
Yuuri stands there next to him, watching the anxious rage on Yuri’s face fade to a confused pout. Once he feels confident that the blonde is going to be alright, he moves to go to the changing room and is startled to be tugged backwards.
“Where are you going?”
The brunette lifts an eyebrow. “To change and take a bath. Did you need something?”
He scuffles around for a moment. “Without Victor? Aren’t you two inseparable or something?”
Yuuri chuckles, closing his eyes. “I think we can bathe separately. Victor’s still talking to my parents, somehow. Mari speaks a little English, so they’re probably working it out.” Green eyes flick back and forth, studying the older man. Yuri finally loosens his grip, doggedly following behind the legendary skater. Yuuri is ready to peel off his t-shirt when he sees that the teenager is still next to him. “I’m going to the open-air bath. I thought you didn’t want to go.”
“It’s authentic, right?” Yuri grumbles. Under his breath, he continues, “And Victor’s busy, so it’ll be quiet.”
After a pause, Yuuri begins to laugh. “Yes, I suppose that’s true. Follow me. I’ll show you around, then.”
//
When Victor hears that Yuri and Yuuri had taken a bath together, he rolls his eyes. Furthermore, Hiroko tells him that Yuuri is already back in his room, asleep, and Victor pouts.
The information just makes Victor even more determined to traverse the city for the next week, learning as much as he can. After he bathes and meets Yuuri in the bedroom, stubbornly kissing his coach’s cheek while he’s asleep, he dreams of all the adventures they’ll have, and how many pictures he can sneak of Yuuri casually enjoying himself in his hometown.
((welcome back to the reverse au, everybody!! ♥♥ as always, em and i pour a lot of love into this, and hope that you all enjoy what we do. thanks for following the blog, and i hope you enjoy this little fic! ♥))
summary: Victor learns his coach’s boundaries quickly, desperate to touch every inch of Yuuri’s skin.
word count: 2k
rating: teen
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Living with Yuuri is a little strange.
For one thing, Victor is unnerved. He’s unused to having someone in his place - occasionally Yakov, perhaps, and his rink mates sometimes stopped by if they needed somewhere to crash after a night out on the town. Unlike other unwelcome guests, Yuuri asks for permission to do things like using Victor’s microwave. He sleeps on the couch, despite Victor’s insistence that Yuuri at least take the bed on the weekends.
Yuuri is unlike the man from the posters Victor imagined him to be. He makes himself small and moves out the way, like he’s intruding, instead of gracing Victor with his presence. As sweet as Yuuri is, it makes Victor nervous. Victor’s not sure why his new coach is this wary of him and his living space. If anything, they should be getting to know each other, becoming slowly more intimate.
The first few weeks after Yuuri moves in, he lives out of his suitcase, shops carefully, and minds his manners.
Yuuri’s obfuscating politeness keeps Victor on his toes, to the point that he’s afraid to reach out and tap Yuuri on the shoulder, sure that the older man would scream at the gesture.
//
After Yuuri starts training Victor in ballet, slowly working his body to become more flexible, the tension between them is slightly eased. They go through stretches, Yuuri’s hands warm on Victor’s back and sides.
Victor is a tactile person, and even though he’s determined to practice, Yuuri’s voice is soft and warm, and his hands are even warmer.
By the time they pack up and leave the studio, Victor’s legs burn like hell and his face isn’t much better. He’s sweaty and gross, but Yuuri gives him a contented little grin and Victor’s breath catches in his throat.
“Hmm?” Yuuri blinks up at Victor, voice trailing off at the end of a story. “Something wrong?”
The silver-haired man wants to reach over, cup Yuuri’s jaw in his hands, and just stare at him. This would hardly be proper, but Yuuri is within arms length now. He’s so close, and gentle, and Victor is frustrated at his inability to act on his impulse.
“Ha ha,” Victor laughs dryly, hands pressed to his sides to avoid doing something stupid. “Nope, everything’s fine.”
When he has more confidence that he won’t be brazenly knocked to the ground, won’t make Yuuri blush and run as far away from him as possible, Victor’s going to hug the shorter man until Yuuri pleads for him to let go.
//
Something shifts between Yuuri and Victor after the regionals in St. Petersburg.
Ever since Victor had his skating competition with Yuri Plisetsky, he’s been on fire. His programs have really taken a step up with his dance lessons, and he’s become close enough to Yuuri to sneak in a couple of arm-locks and even two or three brief embraces.
Yuuri lectures Victor about his over-affectionate behavior; Victor retaliates by saying that Yuuri could stand to open up a little more. The two of them are cagey until Victor’s ready to take the ice, and he feels exhausted when he skates back to Yuuri’s side after the warm up.
Suddenly, before Victor can anticipate the motion, Yuuri reaches for Victor’s hand, cheeks dusted red. “Hey.” Victor’s blue eyes grow wide, voice trapped in the pit of his stomach. “I’m always watching, you know? You don’t have to try so hard to make sure I am. I promise.”
A smile slowly blooms on Victor’s face and he nods. He’s jittery beside his coach until his name is called. He goes out and pushes himself even harder, which is probably the opposite of what Yuuri meant by his words of encouragement, nearly wiping out on the ice.
When he skates off the ice with his free program, giving the teenagers around him a run for their money, Yuuri just slowly shakes his head and opens his arms.
Victor falls into them with a gratified sigh, moved to tears.
“New personal best,” Yuuri huffs against his chest, toying with the sweaty ends of Victor’s messy ponytail. “But I told you not to do that last quad.”
“You’re lecturing me about that now?”
Yuuri pulls back and taps Victor lightly on the forehead, looking awfully smug. “If not now, when?”
Victor’s been crushing on Yuuri for years. Over the last few weeks, the crush has moved into a full-blown, realized infatuation, and in this moment, Victor would dramatically claim that this is the first pull of love blooming between himself and his mentor.
//
As Yuuri and Victor move through customs to go to China, Yuuri feels like he’s going to vibrate out of his skin. Recently, Victor’s gotten a lot more vocal about asking to hold hands, about draping his arms over Yuuri’s back, and so forth. His pale hands are cold on Yuuri’s sides, seeking warmth with low whines. His fingers creep around his coach’s waist, sweep over Yuuri’s chest - Victor just loves to be so close and it makes Yuuri flush constantly.
Right on cue, Victor skips to Yuuri’s side and slumps forward, chin resting on his coach’s gelled-back hair. Cool it, Yuuri, the older man tells himself, fighting down the heat he feels rising up his chest. He’s just. Tactile. “Airports are such a nuisance. At least we have each other!”
“Mmhmm,” Yuuri says, forcing himself to relax. When Victor’s hand slips between his arm and the taller man drags him down the terminal, he fights to keep his breathing even. “It’s a long flight, so we might as well enjoy being able to walk around and stretch our legs while we can.”
“Very true,” Victor agrees, squeezing Yuuri’s arm. Yuuri inhales sharply and the taller man gives him a knowing look, adjusting so that his fingers are curling around Yuuri’s elbow. “We’re early enough to grab a snack - would you like to?”
Yuuri swallows dryly, nodding, as he currently finds it so difficult to focus.
He’s acting so cute and bashful that Victor could scream.
//
When Yuuri goes home to see his mother in the hospital, Victor has a lot of time to think.
The silent space of the hotel room makes Victor stressed out, so he runs to the Russian team to at least get properly chewed out by Yakov and Yuri. Every time he thinks about skating without Yuuri, Victor feels like crying.
He’d dozed off on Yuuri’s shoulders three times in the last week, woken up to his bleary coach softly smiling down at him, and tripped over his feet when Yuuri had stepped out of the shower.
Before this trip, Victor had never seen the older man undressed, and had definitely never seen him with his hair fully down. With his bangs in his face and no glasses on, Yuuri had looked incredibly young and innocent, and Victor’s heart had stopped.
Usually, the memory would make Victor sigh happily and trace heart symbols on the blankets.
Tonight, his face burns with tears, and the impression of the soft kiss Yuuri had planted on his cheek before taking off. Yakov’s voice gets lower when he realizes that Victor is weeping, and even Yuri stops rambling to let Victor cry his heart out.
Neither of them could have imagined just how devastated the separation makes Victor.
//
Yakov sees Victor back to his apartment, telling him to rest. It’ll take a while for Yuuri to get back from Japan.
Victor constantly refreshes his social media, trying to take his mind off of things. He waits for a message, for any sort of sign, with watery eyes. He brushes Yukachin and murmurs softly to his gentle boy, who’s been staying in a pet hotel while he and Yuuri have been traveling.
When the email from Yuuri comes with his flight details, Victor paces the apartment anxiously. Two hours before Yuuri’s plane is due to arrive, he calls a cab and waits at baggage claim for the older man.
Yukachin follows closely behind Victor, who jostles his legs and reads through his phone until Yuuri comes down the escalator and they lock eyes.
Yuuri’s hair is mussed, wind-swept, barely gelled back. Strands are falling over his glasses, and he looks so exhausted; he looks as bad as Victor feels. Victor opens up his arms and Yuuri dashes into them, practically falling into the hug.
“God, I missed you,” Yuuri breathes, tears hot on Victor’s shoulder.
Victor had promised himself not to cry, but with Yukachin’s paws on his thigh and Yuuri warm in his embrace, he can’t hold back the urge. “Yeah, same here.” When he runs a hand through Yuuri’s hair, both of them crying, he searches Yuuri’s dark eyes for an answer.
Yuuri nods, and Victor exhales happily, eyes falling closed and lips meeting his coach’s for the first time.
The kiss is more of a comfort than anything, but Victor will remember the sensation for the rest of his life.
//
After their airport reunion, Victor starts peppering Yuuri’s whole body with kisses, at every moment he can manage it.
He runs his hands through Yuuri’s hair, making the older man click his tongue at Victor, but he doesn’t stop him from doing it. Every so often, and each time it is a surprise, Yuuri initiates contact, snuggling next to Victor on the couch, or pressing his lips to Victor’s.
By the time Rostelecom rolls around, the two of them are sappily wishing the teenaged Yuri well for his skate, kissing each other’s boots and nearly smooching over the signboards. He rolls his eyes at the gross lovebirds, sickened by their actions, as per usual.
Yakov just sighs. He’s not really sure how Victor got to be such a clingy boy, but he’s riding on cloud nine these days, making his new coach blush out of his skin and giving the rest of his rink mates happy kisses on their cheeks as well in his joy.
“Spreading the love!” Victor says every time, wiggling his fingers as he dashes to Yuuri’s side, making the older man roll his eyes when Victor gathers Yuuri in his arms. “So much love!”
Yuuri giggles, kissing his fiancé softly.
//
[epilogue]
Things are different after the GPF, but not in a bad way.
Yuuri has become exceedingly comfortable with Victor’s proximity, and Victor loves to sigh and drape himself all over Yuuri.
One afternoon when practice is over, Victor plays with the band on Yuuri’s right hand, kissing his ring finger. “Why don’t you let your hair down more often?”
The older man rolls his eyes, left hand roaming over Victor’s back while the television plays in the background. “I dunno. Why don’t you?” His fingers toy with Victor’s lazy bun.
“Too much work,” Victor answers with a sigh. “What’s your excuse?” There is a long period of silence where Victor’s fiancé says nothing, so the younger man flicks his blue eyes up. Yuuri averts his eyes and Victor squints. “Yuuri?”
He grumbles something.
“Sorry, what?”
“I said,” Yuuri murmurs, “My old coaches told me I looked too young with my hair down.” He huffs when Victor snorts. “I’m just used to it now, and I guess I’m too tired to switch it up. It’s like my thing now, or whatever.”
“I mean, I like it,” Victor comments, rolling over to stare at Yuuri, smiling. “I like it both ways. You’re incredibly handsome.”
Yuuri flushes at the praise, though his lips are still stubbornly twisted in a scowl. “You can’t just say stuff like that.”
Victor sits up suddenly, wrapping his arms around Yuuri’s neck even as the older man groans, dragging him down for a languid kiss. “Sure I can,” he says, eyes half-mast. “It’s true, after all.”
“Overconfident jerk,” Yuuri says, humming into Victor’s mouth. When he pulls away again, he finally smiles and says, “I guess I shouldn’t stroke your ego with a compliment in return, huh?”
The younger man whines as Yuuri slips out of his grip, whining apologies for the rest of the night, showering the older man with praise.
((wowzers!!! there are now 1k+ followers on the reverse AU blog and I am totally floored. :O as something of a celebration, here’s a short piece that takes place in the season where yuuri comes back to competition. enjoy, everyone!! ♥♥♥))
summary: As a couple in constant competition with each other, they have only one rule to keep the romance alive and well.
Today, it’s Yuuri’s turn to wash Victor’s hair, and he starts off a little miffed, but by the time the shampoo is in his hands, the older man is already beginning to relax.
word count: 1.3k
rating: t
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Yuuri has a reputation to maintain, and that fact is currently ruining his life.
“That quad was sloppy!” Yakov yells at the brunette from across the rink, and he nods his head, starting to get worn down from doing this part of the program for the last four and half hours. “You keep forgetting to add in an extra element in the second half when you’ve had a sloppy jump. Figure out your best sequence and adjust. Break time. Your legs are too tired to continue!”
“Got it,” Yuuri murmurs tiredly, slumping to the side for a long gulp of water. Once he gets there, Victor is waiting, fresh-faced and dewey-eyed. The two of them had promised to work on composition for his FS in the afternoon, but honestly, all Yuuri wants to do is sleep.
After his practice has concluded, he goes for a quick cool down jog, then meets back with Victor. His bangs are a mess, and his glasses are crooked, but he’s determined to be there for his fiancé when Victor needs him to be.
Their session is not great. Yuuri gets nit-picky. Victor quips that he wants more creativity in his jump combinations. Four hours pass before Yuuri realizes that he’s going to snap, so he walks away from the rink to cool down, horrified to find that he’s taking out his frustration with his own feeble skating out on Victor. Once he pulls himself together, he dismisses practice for the day.
Victor leaves with him easily, both of them jumpy and irritated as they walk home in silence. The atmosphere between them is sour when they slump back into the apartment and greet Yukachin. Minutes of silence stretch between them before Yuuri finally sighs, kicking off his shoes and putting his bag down lightly.
The sun is setting through their apartment windows, and both of them stare outside until the older man breaks the silence at last.
“It’s my turn today, Victor,” Yuuri murmurs, carefully taking his glasses off. “Meet you in fifteen?”
“Mm,” Victor hums.
Neither of them smell fantastic. Yuuri is still embarrassed about how much conditioning he has left to do before he’s in shape for competition again. Victor has confidence in his body, enough so that he’s not afraid of being unclothed around his coach, but right now, he doesn’t have the utmost confidence in his words. He’s usually so unafraid with his words, but he’s gotten to know Yuuri, and he knows that the man loves him no matter what, but Victor wants to be careful.
He wants to be kind and sweet to Yuuri, instead of saying all of the harsh things in his mind. They wouldn’t help anyone, so he hurries to get undressed and meet the shorter man in the bathroom.
The water runs for a time, and Victor sits with a towel across his lap while steam fills the room. Yuuri comes in with a robe on fifteen minutes later, as promised. Victor awkwardly crams him long limbs into the bathtub. They had specifically chosen this place because it had a freestanding basin, so Yuuri can easily come behind him, undo the tie holding Victor’s hair in a bun, and run his fingers through the long silver locks. Victor slinks under the water for a moment to get his hair wet, and Yuuri moves away to grab a comb.
Just like that, with Yuuri’s fingers tickling Victor’s scalp and curling around Victor’s hair, both of them begin to relax. Yuuri combs and hums lightly, making Victor giggle, lost in the easy sensation of it. As soon as Yuuri reaches for the shampoo, angling himself over Victor’s chest to do so, the younger man pulls his coach down to peck his cheek.
“I’m sorry,” Yuuri whispers, adjusting his body so that he can quickly kiss Victor back on the forehead. “It’s been a long month.” Before he moves to lather his hands and Victor’s hair, Victor reaches for his right hand, his own dripping with warm water.
“Yes,” Victor replies easily, rubbing his fingers over the glinting gold band Yuuri wears. “It has been.”
“I’m glad you suggested doing something like this,” Yuuri says, pulling away to kiss Victor’s crown, then start pulling sudsy-fingers through it. “Your hair is really nice, so it’s cathartic.”
“Yeah, well, imagine how I feel,” Victor says, fully aware of his own body heat in the water as well as the sounds of Yuuri kneeling against tile and humming something off-key. “I could fall asleep.”
Yuuri smacks his forehead, narrowly avoiding getting shampoo in Victor’s eyes. “Don’t you dare. You’re too heavy for me to carry to the bedroom.”
“Yuuri, I am offended!” Victor pretends to act scandalized. “Are you calling me fat?”
Yuuri rolls his eyes, moving his nails over Victor’s scalp to properly cleanse the oils resting at his roots. “I seem to recall a certain someone calling me fat a few days ago. I wouldn’t want to stoop to his level.”
“I didn’t mean it like that, c’mon,” Victor whines low in his throat and Yuuri chuckles. “I was only teasing, dearest.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Yuuri hums. He plays with Victor’s hair for a few more minutes, eventually taking the piles of it and making a floppy spiral on top of Victor’s head. “Time for a rinse.”
“I have to wash first. Do you want to stay?” Victor looks up hopefully at his coach, but Yuuri just shakes his head sweetly, kissing Victor’s cheek.
“Not today, V. Maybe next time.” He hurries out of the bathroom to relax until Victor’s finished, probably going to take a quick shower before joining Victor in bed.
Victor rinses out his hair in the tub and quickly wipes his body down with a sudsy washcloth. Before he can wonder if he’d brought anything to wear to bed, he sees that Yuuri has left him a pink silk robe hanging on the front of the bathroom door, balanced on a hanger. His heart swells, and he wonders if he could just kiss Yuuri silly, but he knows his partner is no mood, so he settles with beaming at the gesture.
Once Yuuri has washed and the two of them are curled up on the pillows, Yukachin padding into their room and sleeping just below their feet, Victor murmurs at the back of Yuuri’s neck, his damp hair flaring around him. “I love you.”
“You should’ve blow-dried it so you don’t get sick,” Yuuri replies softly, yawning and closing his expressive eyes.
“Too tired,” Victor hums, tossing a leg over Yuuri’s thighs and laughing when the older man grumbles. “Are you still cross with me?”
“I wasn’t mad at you, Victor,” Yuuri assures him quietly, curling into his fiancé’s hold. “Just sort of pissed with myself. It wasn’t your fault.”
Victor breathes with relief, chuckling lightly. “Okay. I’m glad.” He toys with Yuuri’s fringe, which is soft and fluffy fresh out of the shower. “It’s my turn next time.”
“It can’t be fun with my hair this short.” Yuuri laughs lightly. “Maybe I should grow it out.”
Victor’s heart figuratively stops for a moment, and he yelps. “Really?”
“I mean, probably not. It’s too much effort.” Victor obviously deflates at the words and Yuuri snorts. “But I guess I can think about it.”
The taller man slumps over his partner with a whine. “You can’t tease me like this, I’m weak.” Before he can truly answer and continue to be snarky, a yawn pries its way out of Victor’s throat and his long lashes start falling on his cheeks more rapidly. “This discussion isn’t over, Yuuri.”
“Yeah right,” Yuuri mumbles around a yawn as well. “You’re going to be asleep in like five seconds.”
True to form, Victor quickly dozes off and Yuuri laughs at his expense, always entranced by his ability to shut down and sleep. Lulled by the warmth of being freshly washed, Yuuri follows him to rest shortly afterwards.
((hello everyone, and welcome back to the reverse au!! ♥♥♥ i’ve been savin’ this fic for a rainy day. this is dedicated to everyone who wanted to know what yuri plisetsky’s relationship was with victor + yuuri in the rev au. i hope you all enjoy this! ♥))
summary: “Is that what you think it takes to win, Yura?” The silver-haired man steps into his young rink-mate’s space, grinning ill-temperedly. “Attempting to bring honor to Russia?”
“Well,” Yuri steps further into Victor’s space, refusing to budge one bit at the twenty-three-year-old’s provocation. “It’s gotta be better than looking pretty and managing to do exactly jack shit at competitions.”
Yuuri plays mediator to keep the two of them from getting into a fist fight.
word count: 3.7k
rating: t
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“It’s not that you’re out of shape, so much,” Yuuri says, humming while he runs his hands over Victor’s back. The younger man stands shock-still while tan hands run over his spine, color creeping over the bridge of his nose. “Still, your posture leaves a bit to be desired. Have you ever taken dance?”
Victor thinks back to the hellish days where Yakov had dragged him to a variety of dance studios, trying to find his niche. He’d been horrid at hip-hop, somewhat decent at tap and ballroom, and eventually, alright at ballet. Victor had been flexible enough, but Lilia had not liked him, hadn’t liked how Victor had refused to take instruction without asking questions. Besides, Yakov and Lilia had a bit of a falling out in his adolescence, so Victor had focused more on his technical elements and let the performance piece come second.
Thinking back, the lack of dedication to his PCS is probably why he hadn’t made it to the Grand Prix final until he was in his twenties. “Yeah, a couple, but it’s been a long time.” Victor thinks back to the last proper ballet lesson he’d taken. He’d been no older than fourteen, so it’s almost been ten years. Yuuri fixes him with a look, so Victor sighs in the middle of his stretches. “A very long time.”
“Anything you’re particularly comfortable with?” Yuuri’s hands burn on Victor’s shoulders, and the younger man feels slightly flustered. He tosses a glance over his shoulder at his coach, with his soft cheeks and his dark, windswept hair, casually combed back. “Victor?”
Mila snickers from afar, so Victor coughs and regains his composure. “I’m down to learn anything if it’ll take me to the podium.”
“Hmm.” Yuuri gives him a look up and down, then nods. “Alright. Let’s do some conditioning first. Yoga will help loosen you up, and then we’ll move through some core ballet movements, since that’s my dance background. Sound good?”
Victor’s heart races at the thought of Yuuri’s hands on his waist, his soft, steady voice lulling while the Japanese man steadies his pupil. He would faint on the spot, but his Russian rink-mates are all staring at him with various degrees of amusement and annoyance.
“Yep,” the twenty-three-year-old replies with a dry throat. They stay at the rink until everyone else has cleared out, Yakov leading his trail of all-stars out with a gruff clap. Once Yuuri feels like Victor has exhausted himself, they pack up and look things up online.
“How about this studio?” Yuuri flicks through the listings while Victor yawns, blue eyes squinting at the low glow of his coach’s phone. “It seems like it’ll be pretty affordable, and we’d be able to have some time to ourselves.”
The silver-haired skater gulps. He’s not entirely sure how well he’ll fare with the beautiful Japanese man being the only other person in the ballet room, surrounded by mirrors and Yuuri’s soft, crisp needling. He flushes hot and murmurs, “Yeah, we could check it out,” turning his face a bit so the five-time gold medalist doesn’t see that he’s losing his mind.
“I’ll give them a call in the morning, then,” Yuuri says, his tongue poking cutely out of his mouth while he jabs the touch screen and saves the location. Victor keeps stealing glances, because his idol is adorable, but he’s not fully comfortable with how much he wants to make a move on the older man just yet.
Yuuri’s only been coaching him for a month or so. Victor may have low impulse control, but even he’s not that bad. The two of them wander back to Victor’s apartment, where Yuuri sleeps on the roll-out futon despite Victor’s insistence that the older man take the bed.
Both of them eat a quiet dinner, Yuuri taking charge of the shopping and cooking while he stays with Victor. The younger man watches him move, as fluid in domesticity as he is on the ice. Victor blows hair out of his face.
Their plates are full of lean meat and green vegetables. Yuuri clasps his hands together, bows his head over the plate, and picks up a fork. Victor watches the Japanese man in awe, trying to shake the idealistic fog out of his mind. “So,” Yuuri starts speaking softly, patiently chewing his dinner before smiling at his new student. “Have you been thinking about your short program?”
Just like that, the happy bubble around Victor bursts. He pouts and stabs the chicken breast, feeling a little annoyed. “I mean, I guess so? Just, um…” Yuuri keeps cutting his food neatly and Victor huffs. “I wanted it to be sort of...unexpected. I really wanted to focus on being more fluid, like you.”
“The ballet lessons will help a lot, Victor.” Yuuri puts on his teaching voice and the younger man groans again. “Any ideas for your theme?”
Yuuri Katsuki is My Coach and I’m Kind of Dying, Please Send Help - that’s what he really wants to say, but that’s long-winded and awkward. “I’m thinking something about...renewed vigor for life. Something moving, like passion! I would say that my work thus far has been very cold, and I want to avoid that.”
“That’s a great start,” Yuuri says with a gentle smile, taking a long sip from his glass of water. “If you’re not up for brainstorming right now, we can put it off for later. I’ll work on the coordination of your short program; you’ll work on your flexibility. How’s that sound?”
Victor sighs airily, grinning back at his coach. “Sounds great.”
//
Yuuri-the-ice-skating-coach is a bit of a taskmaster, but he still balances their time well, skating just as much as Victor does and running him through the proper motions as they stand side by side on the ice.
Yuuri-the-ballet-instructor is relentless. “We’re going to run through the basic positions again, and watch your arms. Fully pointed toes, Victor!”
Victor is sweaty and frustrated and it is excessively difficult to bend his legs as far as Yuuri would like him to. “Yes!” He snaps back eagerly, trying to maintain his pace and force his legs to obey. They sweat out the hours on the balance beam after his conditioning is done, then they figure out how the moves will translate to his performance on the ice.
Eventually, Victor figures out a dance that makes him feel like he’s passing through water. His arms hurt, his feet hurt - everything is in pain, but the dance is graceful. Yuuri’s limbs steady him when he falters those first few days, just like Yuuri had kept Victor aligned with the balance beam. “You’ve done this your whole life,” the olive-skin man reminds him, taking a moment to skate off and push his flyaway hairs away from his face. “You’re just adding something new to the routine. Yeah?”
Victor huffs, putting his hands on his knees and drinking in the proud look of Yuuri’s attentive eyes. “Yeah.” Victor pulls himself up and puffs out his chest.
The two of them aren’t the last ones in the rink this time.
Yuri Plisetsky is waiting for them, tugging his skate guards on with a scowl. “Oy,” the teenager sidles over with his hands in his pockets. “Aren’t you assholes supposed to flirt and do all that gross stuff after you leave?”
Yuuri gives him a blank stare, not sure whether he should be laughing or gaping at the young man. “Uhh?”
Victor scowls at his rink-mate. “Yura. We’re not flirting.” As much as I wish that we were, Victor mentally laments, but for the time being, he narrows his eyes. “If you pay attention, you’ll see that much like you, Georgi, and Mila are practicing routines with Yakov, Yuuri and I are working on a short program for the season. Stop acting like a child.”
“I am a child,” Yuri snarls back, unafraid to step into Victor’s face while he crosses his arms over his black turtleneck. “You and your superstar sweetheart are getting all cozy and it’s distracting. Yakov lets you go because he favors you, but I’m going to bring glory back to our country.”
Yuuri looks at Victor, points to himself, and mouths “Superstar?” Victor groans, starting to get very annoyed with the blonde.
“Is that what you think it takes to win, Yura?” The silver-haired man steps into his young rink-mate’s space, grinning ill-temperedly. “Attempting to bring honor to Russia?”
“Well,” Yuri steps further into Victor’s space, refusing to budge one bit at the twenty-three-year-old’s provocation. “It’s gotta be better than looking pretty and managing to do exactly jack shit at competitions.”
Yuuri watches Victor’s thinly-veiled rage bubble to the surface before patting his and Yuri’s shoulders, nervously trying to calm them both down. Yuri snarls at the Japanese man, grabbing the arm of his sweater and almost forcing Yuuri to fall on the ice. Victor nearly snaps. “Oy! If you’re going to spend so much time on useless over here, why don’t you at least practice by yourself? All Victor’s going to do is fawn over you anyways, since he can’t figure out what he wants to do for a short program.”
Brown eyes study the hard edges of the Russian teenager’s green eyes. “Well, we are having problems finalizing a concept for the SP,” Yuuri quietly murmurs. “How about this? I could show both of you some routines I was playing with before my break, if you like.” When he says the words, Yuuri is careful to keep his expression even and keep his eyes locked with Yuri Plisetsky’s. After he watches the boy’s look soften, he turns to Victor, who reels back as if he’s been slapped. “It’ll be a good change. Who knows, Victor? If one of these programs speaks to you, you’re welcome to use it this season.”
“What about me?” Yuri snarls. “You’re just gonna make me watch you skate and hope I feel something?”
“Nope,” Yuuri softly replies, laughing slightly. “You can skate the other program. That way, you both get equal time in the rink, and nobody feels jilted. How’s that?”
Victor and Yuri share a dry look. After a moment, the silver-haired man mutters under his breath. “I’m good with that, but I think Yura here is looking for a challenge.” Victor draws himself to his full height, towering well above the blonde while his new coach stands there, scowling a bit at Victor’s theatrics. “Let’s take this one step further. I pick one of your short programs. Yura picks the other one, and then, we have a battle!” Mila, Georgi, and Yakov turn at his proclamation. Yuuri groans and rolls his eyes when Victor points at the teen. “I’ll only do it on those terms!”
“You’re on, asshole,” Yuri snarls back, putting his hands on his hips. “Oy, Yakov! The rink’s ours for the next hour, okay?”
Yakov yells profanities back in response, refusing adamantly. Yuuri is sheepish as he asks for permission more formally, and the older man grumbles and gives in.
Yuuri starts talking about the music as he skates to the center of the rink. His glasses are folded in their usual spot, and he asks Victor to press play.
The first song starts off slowly. It’s a melodic piece, an arrangement of Chopin’s Aeolian Harp, easy to imagine birds glancing over water as the piano keys are tickled. Yuuri’s body is a soft masterpiece, carved from years of effort in the sport, spine bowing gracefully as he dips low to the ice, pinkies glancing just over the surface of it. He pulls his whole body into a spin at the finale, arms crossed over his abdomen as he stops.
Victor and Yuri are both breathless as the older man gasps for air. Both of them clap absently while Yuuri gets a drink of water, and as soon as he’s ready to get back into things, he gestures for Victor to turn the music back on.
The second time, Yuuri begins by slowly lifting his face, spreading his fingers widely and dragging them away like they’re being pulled by someone unseen. This arrangement of Soleá de la Luna Coja is full of low heat; the performance is a flamenco at the core. His moves speak to the fluidity of his background in ballet, of how much subtle eroticism he can produce with all four of his limbs, his expression so far from Yuuri’s demure, homely voice and gentle liveliness that Victor can hardly focus.
“Hey,” Yuri snaps at Victor, who is flushing slightly while his young coach is knocking excess ice off of his blades. “Victor! Come back to earth.” Yuuri skates over, slicking his hair back and putting on his glasses, moving to adjust his gloves a bit while he steps off of the rink. Victor’s jaw drops a bit, realizing all over again that Yuuri is soft and real and here. In St. Petersburg. To teach him. “God, you’re hopeless. Focus! You have to pick one of those programs.”
Victor doesn’t want to. He just wants to watch Yuuri dance on the ice some more. Sighing softly, he looks at Yuuri’s expectant expression and pulls himself together, toying with the ends of his ponytail. “The first one is very me, but I admit that I was more enchanted by the second program.”
“Let’s try it out, then.” Yuuri gives the blonde a look with his arms outstretched, his smile welcoming. “Yuri, we’ll practice together as soon as Victor starts learning his motions, okay?”
“Whatever,” Yuri mutters his response, leaving the two men alone to discuss movements and Victor’s growing capability to do all the things Yuuri had just showed him, even if his ballet posture isn’t perfect.
When Yuri spends time with the Japanese man, he is daunted by Yuuri’s seemingly boundless stamina. For all that Yuuri blusters and stammers, easily embarrassed and even easier to goad into a witty argument, he’s a good coach. His pointers help Yuri visualize the program in a way that is novel to him.
He refuses to admit this, but Yuri sometimes thinks that he’d like to fully switch from Yakov coaching him to Yuuri’s leadership.
Not only would Yuuri be good for his development as a skater, it would piss Victor off to high hell, so the thought alone makes the blonde snicker.
//
The next month is torturous. Yuuri works his two pupils to the bone most nights. His level voice and lilting comments scathe Victor and Yuri more than Yakov’s yelling ever had. The rink opens for a public display the evening that both of them will unveil their SP’s.
Yuuri sits and watches patiently from the sidelines. Victor itches to be close to him, so he closes his blue eyes and tries to remember all those nights he had fantasized about doing something as outlandish as skating with Yuuri Katsuki as his coach and choreographer.
His idol looks up at him and grips Victor’s hands. “Hey,” Yuuri reminds him, looking a bit close to panic himself since Victor appears as though he’s ready to fall over. “You’re going to do great, you know? Yuri’s excellent, of course, but he’s fifteen. Go show him what you can do.”
The blonde has just stunned an audience to silence with a performance graceful enough to be put into Swan Lake, but Victor gulps and nods his head.
As soon as he takes center stage on the ice, he remembers something that his Japanese coach has told him a hundred times since he’d flown to Russia to teach him.
Remember who’s watching you, Victor, Yuuri often says, long lashes framing his dark eyes. Don’t forget why you’re out there.
Victor is here to turn his body into a work of art that’s worth writing whimsical lyrics about.
He sucks in a deep breath. Victor knows he can do this. He’ll never be as incredible as his mentor, but he doesn’t have to be. Yuuri’s been teaching him how to move, been pouring into him, been cooking his meals, been sleeping on his couch, has been real and warm and everything Victor hadn’t known that he needed.
That night is a blur, but Mila shakes Victor immediately after he skates. She talks his ears off.
“That was incredible,” the redhead yells at Victor. Victor’s blue eyes are out of focus and he keeps searching for Yuuri, sad when he sees that his coach is too far away to touch. “I didn’t know you had it in you! You could absolutely win gold for that, Victor.”
His blonde rink-mate is absent as well, probably sulking, if the performance is as great as the deafening roars of the crowd would lead him to believe. Victor swallows dryly, searching for something to say, and then Yuuri sidles next to him like he had never left.
“Give him a minute to breathe,” Yuuri murmurs kindly, brushing shoulders with Victor. “Let’s go home, yeah?”
“Mmhm,” Victor mumbles back, barely resisting his natural urge to grab his coach’s hand and leech his warmth. They walk closely on the way back to the apartment, Yuuri noting parts of his program that need improvement. Victor rolls his eyes and unlocks the door, both of them tumbling onto the couch in a mess of limbs.
Yuuri laughs breathlessly, fingers tangling in Victor’s messy bun.
The Japanese man waits a beat, then he says, “You did it.”
Yuuri’s hands are incredibly calloused, even though Victor had been dreaming of how soft they could have been, being attached to someone as lovely and sweet as Yuuri. Then again, of course they are. Yuuri is a world-class athlete.
“Apparently so,” Victor mumbles back, snuggling further into Yuuri’s warmth while the other man allows him to be so close.
“You don’t remember?” Victor shakes his head and Yuuri laughs. The sound sticks in Victor’s chest and he gulps, cheeks flushing. The younger man buries his head in Yuuri’s lap to hide the tint of his face. “Well, it was amazing. One of your best performances, hands-down.”
Yuuri’s nails dig into Victor’s scalp absently and the younger man sighs in happiness. “I’m glad, then.”
Bashfully, the older man hums and asks, “What were you thinking about out there?”
“You,” Victor answers, closing his eyes and trying not to let his heart leap out of his chest. Yuuri’s eyes; Yuuri’s words; Yuuri’s delightful addiction to royal blues - Victor’s had Yuuri on the brain since he was ten years old, and it’s a hard habit to break. “It’s always you.”
When Victor looks up, he finds that Yuuri seems surprised.
The olive-skinned man colors deeply, sputtering and tearing his hand out of Victor’s hair. “Oh!” Yuuri yelps and adjusts Victor’s head in his lap so that there’s a bit of space between them. Victor whines. “Uh. I guess. I guess I should’ve known that, huh?”
Yes, Victor thinks, deadpan, but on the surface, he’s deeply entertained by Yuuri’s embarrassment. They’ve been at press conferences for events in the past where Victor’s said more shameful things about his idol, and this is what strikes Yuuri? Unbelievable.
“Whatever you thought about,” Yuuri eventually says, clearing his throat. “You did an amazing job out there. We’re gonna polish that and work on your FS from now on, because if you keep that up, you’ll take gold at the GPF for sure.”
These are big words, certainly, but Victor’s head is filled with the heady taste of victory over the blonde teenager they share a rink with. With this elation, Victor quickly exclaims, “Let’s do it,” and Yuuri grins back at him.
It’s a promise.
//
Yuri slams his bag down on the bench where Victor is lacing up his boots. Yuuri is already at the rink side, chatting with Yakov, so there’s not a chance that anyone responsible is going to stop the little shit from mouthing off to Victor.
“This isn’t over,” Yuri mutters angrily, pointing at the silver-haired man. “You think you and your crush are going to one-up me, but the playing field is even. He choreographed a program for me too. I’m going to make my mark with my free skate, so watch out.”
When Victor reads between the lines, his blonde teammate is almost sort of cute. “I get it, Yura. I look forward to whatever you come up with, okay? Let’s both try our best.” Victor pads off to the rink with his guards on, waving to Yuuri as the teenager behind him sits down and scoffs.
“I like it better when you’re acting more like a confident asshole than a depressed one,” Yuri mutters quietly.
Victor laughs lowly, fidgeting with his bun. “Yeah. Me too, Yura.” Victor takes his blade covers off while chatting calmly with his coach, and Yuuri gives him a soft smile.
Yuri Plisetsky just watches them, wondering if they know how affectionate everything they do is, if their soft, private smiles and gently touching cheeks say more than they ever will in words.
Victor’s an idiot, but Yuuri is helping the Russian man step up his game, polishing his form with every touch.
From the sidelines, Georgi scoffs, Victor and Yuuri’s intimacy tugging at his heartstrings. “This year is going to be tough.”
“Yes, it is,” Yakov gruffly comments. “So get your head in the game, Georgi. You can’t just whine and preen - you have to compete with that, so focus.”
“Yeah, focus,” Mila says, snickering as she skates towards Yuri and sticks her tongue out at the dark-haired Russian skater. “Don’t want the lovebirds to totally ruin your heartbroken fairy tale SP.”
“It is an emotionally engaging and enrapturing piece, Mila!” Georgi cries.
Yakov groans, watching all the madness in his rink with a distraught expression.
Still.
When he lets his eyes wander, he finds Victor smiling far more openly than he’s seen the man smile in years, and privately, he’s satisfied.
Victor usually seeks validation and worth out on the ice, trying too hard and kicking himself when he doesn’t achieve the greatness he so desperately wants to display. The Katsuki boy is good for him; he shows Victor that there is no one way to make it to the podium, and if Victor must pine over the older man like a fool to realize that, then Yakov is happy.
At one point, Victor had been like a son to him, after all. Even if, as a coach, they are on opposing sides now, Yakov still hopes that Victor will stand tall and prove his worth as the phenomenal skater Yakov knows that he can be.
This season is going to be fun, Vitya, Yakov thinks to himself, hiding a smile behind his hand as Yuuri chides Victor’s step sequence for the third time that day.
