A/N: Short little snippets of what happened leading up to the kiss, and what so should have totally happened afterwards. Or maybe it did, and it just wasn't shown? Ha.

One chapter from Victor's POV, one from Yuri's, and finally one from the eyes of a fangirl xD - where things get a little M-rated, so steer clear if you're not into that sort of thing.

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Mitsuro Kubo, not me.

He doesn't realise how much he's grown these past few weeks, does he?

"The time to seduce me by picturing pork cutlet bowls and women during your skate is over." I murmur. "You can fight with your own personal charm. You can envision it just fine, can't you?"

Confidence, confidence… that's what he's always needed from me, isn't it? It's not talent that he lacks. Far from it.

His hand feels clenched under mine, and I caress his knuckles with just the right amount of pressure. I wonder if my words are even reaching him. He's been a little off recently. Nerves, perhaps? There's a lot resting on his shoulders after all.

When he grips his fingers between mine, it takes everything I have to keep it together. What's he doing all of a sudden? I dare not breathe. I don't know if he notices my eyes widen for that split second, but I make myself meet his. They're burning, dark and deathly, like he means to swallow me whole.

His face is too near, his breath too warm against my lips. Strands of our hair touch teasingly against our foreheads. And still, I don't break that gaze. I force myself to keep my own breathing calm.

"Don't ever take your eyes off me." He commands.

As if I could, Yuri. You'd be asking the impossible.

He skates away now, gliding like a swan, and I keep my hand on the barrier, tight around the phantom digits still viciously cinched around my own. His warmth, along with some unusual ferocity has managed to seep past my gloves, and is making my skin tingle. He's in the middle now, and he's looking right at me.

He's far too different today. I reach up to touch where our foreheads met. What's flipped his switch?

There's that moment of silence when the crowd holds its breath. He's shedding his anxiety, shedding his fear, and I can hear it all thudding to the ice. He's becoming the Yuri that's free, the Yuri that means to capture, to enthral.

Did he just…?

"Bozhe moy…" I whisper, unable to look away.

That was definitely his tongue just now. Did he just lick his lips, right after telling me to never take my eyes off him? What is he thinking?

His movements… they're more fluid today. He's rolling his arms and shoulders about his hips in a way I've not seen in practice. It's the perfect mix of relaxed, innocent and desperate eroticism, even more intense than when he skated against Yurio. His legs, his fingers, his skin, every part of him is charged, and alive.

Oh, he's seducing them alright. No one in this stadium can tear their eyes from you tonight, Yuri.

But how dare you?

You're dancing on my heart with those blades, Yuri. Here you are, so far from home, wearing the very outfit that clung to my skin as I skated during the Junior World Championships, and now… it's against yours. Every inch of you is clad in me. How do you think that makes me feel, hm? Standing here as your coach, after you've ordered me not to look away from you?

You can be one possessive piglet, can't you? Ah, my dear… if you keep enticing me like that, there's no telling what I'll do to you.

Skaters' hearts are indeed fragile. But right now, my little Eros… mine burns for you.

"Yuri, let's warm up in a different spot."

'Where's the place with the fewest people?' I wondered.

Every inch of him screamed nervous to me. I hadn't seen him like this. Anxious, yes… but never this bad. The circles under his eyes made him appear ten years older and a hundred times sadder.

Whatever happened to that erotic, fearless Yuri from the Short Program?

The noise from the other skaters rumbled above us. The car park was cold and dank, but the sounds seemed amplified down here, horribly snowballed. Phichit was performing now. I cursed inwardly as Yuri's terrified eyes wandered upwards, his very spirit trembling before me.

"Don't listen!" I yelled, lurching forward to clasp my hands over his ears.

'You're too young to wear such an expression. Too precious. Don't make that face. Don't…'

He looked at me, pleading. What was I to do? Yakov, what would you have done in such a situation?

And like a mirror, he shattered before me.