A/N: Okay this was supposed to be a quick little one shot, maybe a little bit cute, maybe even funny about how Yuuri went on his hug rampage because Victor wasn't there and because he missed Victor and Victors hugs, but no-one elses hugs helped him because you know...no-one else is Victor. But as usual, I got carried away and I ended up writing and writing and writing. So this has kind of turned in to a two shot. This beginning bit can be the prologue, really I should just post the actual part that I had a head cannon for and the reason I wrote this fic, and get to the damn point.
I hadn't been too sure where to start this fic, I'm not a planner, I just sit and write and then edit and then write. So I sat and wrote and after writing this entire chunk out that you're about to read, and then editing it, I found the perfect starting point for the fic, and I've been debating do I just ignore all this work at the beginning and post from the starting point I found, or do I post all of it? But considering how much work I put in to this first bit, I decided I should post it because otherwise it's kind of a waste and while it's not perfect, I kinda like it.
I'm gonna re-iterate that. It's not perfect. I've had some issues with a fandom not being particularly kind to newbies, and I've literally only watched YOI twice max. Because I went back and rewatched and took a load of notes to try and get this right. So it's not perfect. But I've tried my hardest, and I hope you'll enjoy it anyway!
Yuuri kept to himself, stretching and doing his best to get his mind in to the right headspace before the free program started. He'd been on edge all day, worrying about Victor and Makkachin. I did the right thing. I told Victor…I didn't have to. I could have just not mentioned anything and kept him here…where I need him so that I can do this. I could have been selfish, so incredibly selfish. I could have…but I didn't. I told him about Makkachin….I told him to go. Something I'd never thought I'd do since he's been in my life. I don't want Victor to leave me, I want him by my side always. But I can't regret doing the right thing…I can't regret being there for Victor. For not letting him make the same mistake as me. I wasn't there when Vicchan needed me…I didn't get to say goodbye. I can't let Victor do the same thing for Makkachin. No. I can't regret doing what he needed me to do. He needed me to tell him to go, otherwise he would have stayed. He would have stayed for me, and then he'd have resented me if anything happened to Makkachin…if Makkachin didn't…if he….. Yuuri shook his head to banish the negative thought. Makkachin is going to be fine. It'll be fine. But it's strange…without Victor here…without him helping me focus…without him giving me his pep talks…his hugs…..I feel like…like I….
Yuuri shook his head. He refused to regret it….but he still wished Victor where here. He'd always wish that Victor was there when he wasn't. He couldn't help it. Victor had become such a part of him…of his pre-skate routine. He felt like he needed Victor there to calm him, Victor was the only person in Russia who would possibly be cheering for him. Every other person must hate him for stealing Victor away from the sport, it had been pointed out to him multiple times, and he kept hearing the same words over and over. "When are you coming back to skating Victor?" every single reporter kept on asking it. Every skater. It was like they all knew it was a matter of time before Yuuri screwed up and Victor would leave him with his reputation in tatters. Yuuri had seen the interview Victor had given, how he said he wouldn't answer until after the Grand Prix Final. It was like a deadline, looming up at him. If he didn't qualify he'd lose Victor. If he did qualify, then he might still lose Victor because if he won he'd have done what he'd set out to do. Victor would go back to Russia…go back to skating. He'd leave Yuuri. Yuuri wasn't sure how he'd cope with that, whether he retired or not…whatever happened…he'd changed since having Victor in his life. Victor was who he skated for now, why he skates. The only person he can open up to and be with. Yuuri could feel the anxiety starting to creep up on him and he tried to shake it off, but it was hard without Victors comforting and constant presence. He was always there, always nearby when Yuuri needed him. Sure he might not know what to say, how to help him…but he was just there. Yuuri forcibly wrenched his thoughts away from Victor, but they landed on an even worse topic. His practice skate that morning.
It had been awkward, there was no getting around that. He hadn't talked to Yakov too much due to a combination of nerves, worry and feeling slightly intimidated by the older mans gruff exterior. He clearly hadn't been pleased with the arrangement, but he cared enough about Victor to do it anyway. But Yakov wasn't his coach. Victor understood Yuuri. How he skated, what he was trying to say when he skated. Yakov didn't, and if Yuuri had thought Victor had been bad when trying to deal with him and his anxiety…Yakov was even worse. At least he and Victor had come to an understanding after the incident in the parking garage. Ever since, all he'd needed to calm down, was Victors presence. His touch. Just stay close to me. The memory of his shout had echoed in his head. It was strange practising without Victor there and Yuuri kept to himself as much as possible. He couldn't help it. Without Victor and his constant belief in him, Yuuri had felt alone. Yurio had Yakov and the scary Russian lady with him, even Mila was there. Yuuri had no-one. Yuuri had felt like he was back to the self he was before Victor came in to his life. He'd felt like he was fighting on his own again, a feeling he'd thought had long been banished by Victor. He must have looked bad because Yurio had taken it upon himself to let Yuuri know, loudly and with immense irritation, why exactly Yuuri had failed to land whichever jump he'd been practising, and how pathetic he was skating. Yuuri knew enough about the younger Russian to know that he was trying to help, trying to show he cared, in his own way. He thought that Yurio considered him a worthy rival now, and knew he'd been disappointed in Yuuri throughout the practice, by his behaviour. How he was acting. It was like without Victor there he wasn't himself.
Yuuri couldn't shake that feeling of being alone and he'd felt cold deep down inside throughout the entire practice. Victor wasn't there and nothing was right. If Victor where here he'd have set him at ease with a touch or a hug…and contrary to what Victor said, Yuuri didn't have as much faith in Yakov's hugging skills as Victor did. There was no way he was going to go to the older man for his pre-skate hug. He'd gotten some grudging nods and something that might have been encouragement during the practice but he wasn't sure. The man yelled too much and his accent was too thick. The practice hadn't been as good as it would have been with Victor there, but it hadn't been completely terrible and by the end of it Yuuri had started to forcibly try and improve his mood. To forcibly try and calm himself.
I told Victor I could handle this skate. I told him…promised him. It was the only way to get him to go. For him to now I'd be alright. I can't let him down, I can't fall apart right now. Not when we're so close. It'd throw away everything we've worked for, everything we've achieved. It would prove everyone right about him…about us. It would reflect back on Victor himself…I can't ruin things for him…I can't. Not if….not if he does want to go back to skating….
Cheers suddenly drew his attention, pulling him out of his spiralling thoughts and Yuuri couldn't resist any longer. He knew he shouldn't but he shook off his glum mood and decided to go and cheer Yurio on. Mentally. Because any outward cheering would just enrage the younger Russian. Yurio didn't do outward signs of affection or…well…any signs of closeness with anyone that Yuuri knew of. Yuuri had tried to hug him during practice, call it temporary insanity because of his mental state, and Yurio had practically been spitting with rage. Don't touch me, your suckiness will rub off on me. He'd spat, scowling in Yuuri's direction. He hadn't had to suffer the glare for long, Mila had come up and thrown her arms around him, poking him in the cheek, "aw Yuri, play nicely. Don't you want to have a friend? Oh I know you do, that's why you're so grouchy all the time" she'd crooned at him. Yuuri had winced at the level of shrieking reached by Yurio when he'd screeched "Get off of me you HAAAAAAG" before spraying up ice as he'd whirled away. Yuuri shouldn't have pushed his luck but he'd thought Yurio might be less opposed to a less touchy feely form of contact. Yuuri had badly needed some kind of contact with someone. But when he'd offered the younger Russian a high five, Yurio had looked like he wanted to rip Yuuri's arm off and beat him with it. He was 99% sure he would have if Mila hadn't started to drag him away, switching the focus of his ire to her. Yuuri shook his head, a slight smile forming at the memory of the Russian girl musically baiting the fiery boy. "Come on Yuri, I think it's time for your nap. Maybe then you'll be in a better mood" she'd laughed as Yurio struggled to get away, screeching at her.
Yuuri focused back on the present and watched in silence as Yurio nailed every single one of his jumps, pushing himself to the fullest extent that he could, he could see the boys muscles straining the entire time, he must have been in pain, but he remained calm the entire time. How? How can he stay so calm? I'm a mess, I'm always a mess and even more so because Victor isn't here to help but Yurio….
He stared wide eyed as Yurio finished, falling to his hands and knees on the ice, panting hard. A performance beyond his limits. That's what it was. He thought to himself. He quickly made his way down to the ice, trying to calm himself down, but his anxiety was high and getting higher. Yurio had thrown down a gauntlet of sorts, by pushing himself like that he wasn't leaving Yuuri any room to slack off. It's like the younger boy was trying to force Yurio to focus…to do his best. But Yuuri was so far from focused and he knew why. Victor. Makkachin. His worry for the both of them. But more than that, ever since Victor had started coaching him, slowly and over time, his advice, his touches, his hugs…all of it had helped to keep him calm, to push the anxiety back before he skated. Victor might not know what to say, but he tried, and an intimate and caring touch from him did more than words ever could. But Victor wasn't there. Yuuri didn't even need to keep reminding himself. Victors absence was glaringly noticeable.
Without the Russian and his steady belief in Yuuri, the only person besides his friends and family to have such unwavering belief in him….Yuuri was seriously doubting himself. He was in Russia….Victor was a legend for Russian figure skating and he had taken that away. That was all he could think. He had taken Victor away, just like everyone kept saying. Yurio had been vocal about it more than once, he'd thought it was just Yurio having some odd attachment to Victor, the younger boy was prickly but Yuuri knew that Yurio looked up to Victor and he sometimes wondered if it was more in a brotherly way. But ever since interacting with other skaters…other coaches…reporters…he'd had the phrase shoved in his face more than once. He tried not to let it bother him, it didn't seem to bother Victor. But here…alone in Russia, he kept hearing the words in his head. Kept picturing the consequences his failure here would have on Victor and the steadily mounting pressure was drowning him. He knew that every single Russian in the audience must hate him to some extent because they'd lost their star to him. If he didn't pull this off perfectly…they'd all think he'd taken Victor away for nothing. That Victors coaching had been a waste. Yuuri could feel his anxiety washing over him in steady waves as his vision swam before him. The music started, and with a deep gulp of breath…Yuuri started to skate.
His thoughts where full of Victor. I have to prove myself by winning. If I fail here, everything is over. Victor will go back to Russia. I'll be alone again…..Yuuri popped his double toe loop. He ground his teeth in frustration. Dammit, calm down. Yuuri tried to focus, tried to find the calm that Yurio had. The young Russian had gone above and beyond and it had inspired Yuuri, motivated him to do his best…but without Victor there he had no-one to skate for…no-one to skate to. This program..it was dedicated to Victor…it was for Victor. How do I recover from this?! Yuuri was trying hard to think about anything that would make the situation worse and to keep a level head, but it was a struggle. He wasn't focused. He hadn't been focused since Victor had left. Images of Victor swam in his head. Victor noting that Yuuri flubs his jumps when something's on his mind and he had to repress a bitter chuckle.
"Care to share?" He heard Victors voice echoing in his thoughts. Yeah Victor…somethings on my mind. You. Makkachin. My impending failure in front of all of Russia. I told you that I'd show my love to all of Russia…but if I fail you…if I let you down in such a big way…what will they think of my love for you then? That it's not enough? It can't be enough if I can't even do this for you without you here to help me. I have to do this. I have to show you how strong I've become. It's not that I want to do it without you…to show you that I don't need you, because I'll always need you. I just want to show you how much you've helped me…changed me. I want you to know that I'll be okay….no matter what happens.
"Starting today I'm going to be your new coach! And you're going to win" he remembered Victors wink. The assuredness in his voice, as if there where no other option. It's what Yuuri had always wanted, sure he didn't openly say it like other skaters…but he wanted to win and Victor had known that. He had seen the potential in Yuuri. Victor always seemed to know how Yuuri felt..what he was thinking and to some extent what he needed. Or he tried his best to know what Yuuri needed. I wanted to win gold at last years Grand Prix too…Yuuri's thoughts trailed off as an image slammed in to his brain and he abruptly shook it off. He didn't need memories of his past failures psyching him out mid skate, he couldn't afford that right now. I want to win. I want to win for me and for Victor. To show everyone that he isn't wasting his time…that he's a good coach. That he left them for a reason. But I only made it this far because of Victors belief in me….because of his love. It changed me and he believed in me even when I didn't…he still does. What happens if it ends here? If I don't make it to the grand prix final? Yuuri knew the answer. Victor would have no reason to stay. He'd leave, go back to Russia…go back to skating. To winning his own gold. Because Yuuri would have failed to do what they set out to do, and as Yuuri felt the strain the performance was taking on his body…he knew he didn't have much longer left in him to skate competitively. Yuuri tried to shake off the thoughts. He needed to focus. He needed to be calm….to not think. Because thinking led to him flubbing his jumps every. Single. Time.
His thoughts drifted back to Yurio's performance. His calmness as he pushed his body further than he'd ever pushed it before. Yurio looked like that last three jump combination was going to kill him…that idiot. Yuuri thought fondly. Trust the younger Russian to make it hard for Yuuri to back down. For Yuuri to give anything but his best. Because he knew that if Yurio could push himself like that…then he could too. He had to, or he'd feel the younger Russians wrath. He doesn't have as much stamina as I do. Yuuri reminded himself. Whether Victors here or I'm alone, it's still just as difficult. Yuuri was feeling that difficulty more than he ever had before, but the thought of the tiny Russian pushing himself…completing a near suicidal set of jumps even though he possessed none of the stamina that Yuuri did…it pushed him on. Because if Yurio could do it, if he could nail it…then he could finish this damn routine whether it killed him or not. He had to. He wasn't sure why he was feeling the strain more, maybe because he was exhausted after spending all night and all day worrying about Victor and Makkachin. Maybe it was watching the younger skater do something he himself didn't think he could do, even with his stamina. Maybe it was because without Victor there, being a steady and assuring presence, he felt like he was adrift. All his insecurities coming home at once. Either way, this was the most difficult performance of his life, it was like he needed Victor to function properly.
A thought entered his head….he could deviate. Throw in something to pull his score back up. But he quickly shook it off. I just need to keep it simple. This program is me. Nobody else can skate it the way I can. Yuuri told himself. He didn't need to mess with it. He didn't need to do anything but put his soul in to it. Victor and I created this program together and I love it so much it hurts. I'm not finished yet. I won't be done until I get the gold with Victor. Yuuris' more positive thoughts, coupled with the mental images of Victor…the memories of their time together, buoyed him up and with a final burst of energy he completed the program. It wasn't perfect. But he'd put all he could in to it and he felt the ache in his body as he slid down to the ice, relishing in the cool feel of the air wafting up to his face as he fought for breath. Why is everything so difficult without Victor here?
Yuuri sat in the kiss and cry, gulping down a drink and waiting for his score. He knew it wasn't going to be good. He'd messed up too much when he couldn't afford to and despite the positivity he'd felt towards the end he hadn't pulled it back enough, he knew he'd let Victor down, because after his performance yesterday…he could have done so much better today. He should have blasted his way through to the final, instead…if he made it, it would be by scraping by. Everything he and Victor had worked for…it deserved better than that. He didn't have time to dwell on that thought, however, because Yakov launched in to a lengthy lecture about his failings. Yuuri could only stare at him. A lecture at the kiss and cry….this is where Victor learned it. Yuuri thought to himself, zoning out completely as the image of Victor doing the exact same thing superimposed itself over Yakov. Before Yuuri realised what he was doing, he was hugging the older Russian man. It was something he needed…the familiarity and the comfort. The contact. But Yakov was no Victor and the hug wasn't the same. It didn't offer the same level of comfort as Victors did. Of security. It didn't shut out the thought that kept repeating itself throughout his head. I let Victor down. I didn't prove anything. A resounding, firm score would have. But this…this wasn't how it was supposed to go…this wasn't how we where supposed to make it to the final. All of Russia just saw me be….mediocre. The program…it shows how I feel about Victor and I didn't do it justice. What do the people I took Victor away from..think of me? Do they think it was worth it? Do they understand how…how much I care about him? After that performance, I doubt it. Victor..he'll be going back to Russia before long won't he. Even if I do scrape through to the final…it's just a matter of time.
He'd wanted to show Victor…show him how he'd changed. How Victor had changed him. How Victor had bolstered Yuuri's belief in himself. Made him stronger. How his feelings had changed him. He'd wanted to show Victor..that he could handle it…and he'd failed at that. Because he hadn't handled it. He'd barely managed to keep himself from falling to pieces from anxiety. He'd barely managed to pull it off. If Victor had been there…things would have been different. They where a team.
The final was Yuuri's last chance. Because after it? He'd have Victor step down. He didn't deserve to keep Victor from competitive skating, not after this, not when he'd shown that he hadn't actually come all that far. Victor had gotten him so far and instead of capitalising on that, making him proud…he'd choked. Like Yakov had said. If he made it to the finals…it'd be by squeaking by. Victor deserved better than squeaking by…their hard work..their program deserved better than squeaking by. It wasn't long before his thoughts where confirmed. He'd go to the finals…he'd keep Victor for a bit longer. But not because he'd blown everyone away with his amazing performance, not because he'd capitalised on his performance yesterday, on Victors routine…because he'd struggled through, barely making it by the skin of his teeth because without Victor there something had been missing.