Yuuri kept blinking as he finished his short program, almost unable to believe that he had actually done it. The crowd was going wild, and he felt very proud of himself. He had managed to land all of his jumps, and even though his quads hadn't been perfect, he knew that he would receive one of his highest scores, if not his best score ever.
His suspicions were confirmed at the Kiss and Cry, with Celestino congratulating him on his new best score, putting him third overall which he honestly had not been expecting. He was only 4 points behind second place, but (as always) he was a world behind Victor, who somehow managed to score 10 points higher than second. Yuuri smiled at the camera, a genuine one for the first time since the start of the finals. He was on top of the world right now, and he wasn't sure if he'd ever come back down.
The phone call from his parents did a pretty good job of destroying his mood. All his good feelings disappeared when he got the news about his beloved Vicchan. Why was he such a bad owner? He hadn't been home to see his dog in a long time, and meanwhile he had totally forgotten about him somehow. Things would have been different if he had been taking Vicchan on a walk; he always used a leash, so he wouldn't have been able to run into the road.
Yuuri took some time to sit alone and sob, letting all the negative feelings wash over him. Some time later he felt cried out, his eyes red and cheeks shiny with tears. He ran a bath as hot as he could and climbed in, willing it to feel like the hot springs back home but knowing that it didn't even come close. He climbed out when the water started to cool, pulling on his favorite sweatpants and a soft cotton shirt before sliding under his covers. He fell asleep quickly, which was a stroke of luck. Otherwise he might have spent hours dwelling on what had happened, which would have been a disaster.
In his dreams he played with Vicchan on the beach like he had done when he was a boy. His dog happily splashed in the shallow water. Yuuri woke up feeling somehow cheered by this, but soon returned to his previously melancholy state.
He had several texts from Phichit on his phone, congratulating him on his performance and growing increasingly frantic the longer that Yuuri hadn't replied to him. The last one read simply "CALL ME ASAP" so Yuuri did just that. He realized that it was still early in the morning in Detroit, but Phichit had asked for it…
His friend picked up on the second ring, sounding surprisingly awake. Yuuri didn't know how he did it. He himself had never been a morning person. Yuuri accepted the praise that his friend heaped upon him, unsure of how to tell him what was going on. Once he started, the words tumbled out in a slightly incoherent torrent, and Yuuri felt his eyes tearing up as he remembered what had happened again. Phichit did his best to comfort him, and Yuuri was grateful for the support he was being offered.
"Yuuri, try your best to skate for Vicchan today? You are feeling so much emotions. Try to put them into your skating instead of letting them rule over you. This must be really tough but you need to get through this before you can stop and think too hard."
Yuuri hung up soon after, scrolling through the photos of his dog that he had on his phone. His parents sent photos to him regularly, which he was really grateful for, especially now. With the photos, he still had a way to connect to Vicchan. He took his favorite and impulsively posted it on Instagram. Everyone should have a chance to appreciate what a great dog Vicchan was, right?
He had to put his phone away when he caught sight of his coach waiting for him. Celestino took one look at him and did a double-take, probably surprised by the bags under his skater's eyes.
"Yuuri! You look like death warmed over! What's wrong?"
Yuuri explained again, strangely detached from the information. His coach nodded understandingly.
"Do as much as you can, Yuuri. Take it easy in the warmups, and just give it your best for the free skate later. We're all proud of you regardless of how you do today."
Looking back on his performance, Yuuri wouldn't remember too much. He knew it started out pretty rough. He flubbed all of his jumps in the first minute of the program, but most of his jumps were in the middle anyways. He started to pull himself together as he went along, and the ending of his program was something he actually felt some measure of pride towards. His step sequence had felt particularly right, a way to purge himself of the emotions he was feeling. Still, he wasn't surprised at the mediocre score he received. His performance had been filled with emotion leading to a good presentation, but his technical elements had suffered drastically. It was far from the best score he had ever had. He tried to comfort himself with the idea that it could have gone so much worse. Still, he was unsatisfied. That was hardly a fitting tribute to his dog.
He was pleasantly surprised seeing the results after the last skater went. The other man had been very nervous, and though he did about as well as Yuuri did in terms of scores for the free skate, he hadn't performed well in the short program. Yuuri was in fifth place, not dead last. Nothing spectacular, but not that embarrassing. He wasn't that far behind fourth place, after all.
Walking into the banquet hall was a didn't feel like he deserved to be there, and he definitely didn't feel like he could talk to the elite skaters. He had run into them at competitions, but hadn't exchanged more than a few words with any of them. Despite knowing that he shouldn't, he gladly accepted a glass of champagne from a passing waiter, downing it far too quickly.
Four glasses of champagne later, he felt pleasantly warm and his sense of awkwardness had disappeared. He grabbed a fifth, but sipped at it instead of chugging it, venturing over to where most of the skaters had collected. Later he wasn't sure why or quite when it had happened, but he decided that it would be a great idea to challenge the angry-looking teen that was the Junior champ to a dance battle. The slight haze of alcohol removed the sense of embarrassment that he normally felt when people stared at him, and helped bring out some of his best dance moves. The blonde was no match from the unstoppable dance machine that was a tipsy Yuuri Katsuki.
He spent some time milling about until somehow a pole appeared in the ballroom. Later Yuuri would question this, but at the time it made perfect sense to him. Christophe began dancing for everyone, which could've been very awkward if not for how drunk most of the attendees were. Yuuri was no exception, which was why after a minute of consideration, he decided that it would be a wonderful idea to join him up there. He shed his jacket and hopped up, twining his body around the pole and the other man. As they danced, more and more clothing was discarded until they were in boxers and ties. Yuuri felt a pair of eyes burning into the back of his head. He bent his body backwards so that he could see who was watching him so intently, and nearly fell off the pole in shock when he saw the unmistakeable blue eyes of his idol looking back at him.
Yuuri's dancing took on a new desperation. He forgot about Christophe, accidentally driving him off of the pole as he began to use more space for his better (and sexier) moves. Now he danced for Victor, and Victor alone. He heard hoots and hollers as people began to realize who this dance was for, but he continued to maintain eyes contact with him as much as possible.
Eventually Chris climbed back on and Yuuri stopped dancing, pulling his clothes back on. He noticed that Victor's eyes were still on him, so he wandered over to where the Russian man stood.
"Dance with me?" he whispered, a little too close to Victor's ear to be acceptable in polite company. The other man nodded eagerly as fast tango music came on. Yuuri set a fast pace, whirling around him with passion in his movements. Victor was overwhelmed, barely able to follow the dance but loving every second of it anyways.
They danced and danced, even as more and more guests began to leave. The crowd had thinned considerably by the time the two athletes had finally tired. But more than enough people were present to see Yuuri put his hand on Victor's chin so that the silver-haired man had no choice but to stare into his eyes.
"Victor," he said, voice hoarse. "Next year, I'm going to beat you!"
With that, Yuuri turned and grabbed his suit jacket, steady on his feet as he made his way to the elevator. Victor watched him go, a growing smile on his face. Yuuri might not have beat him yet, but he has already won his attention.
When he woke up in the morning with about thirty texts from a new contact in his phone, Yuuri realized quickly that what he thought he had dreamed last night had actually happened.