Notes
I don't even know man. This just happened what even.
He's counting one, two, three, then opens his eyes.
Nope, they're still there, with big blue banner on their hands. Though his photo thankfully is quite flattering since it's the one when he was wearing the tiger shirt and the cat ears, but it's the Udači! Ganbatte! And variations of Good Luck in so many languages along with the dreaded nickname Yurio on the banner that's the problem.
"Yurio! Good luck! We'll be here cheering for you!" Yuuri waves his free hand excitedly, the cat ears on his head bobs along his jumps. He still can't believe he lost the Grand Prix Final and World Championship last year to this man sometimes. "I'll make Katsudon for you if you win!" He smiles, as if Yuuri isn't one of his competitors for the Gold medal.
But then again, it's Yuuri Katsuki who cried and hugged him so hard when Yuri won gold in Rostelecom, so it shouldn't be a surprise that he'll do this kind of thing.
The image of Katsudon appears on his mind, and Yuri has to shake his head to stop it from distracting him.
"Yurio! You'll do great!" Beside Yuuri, Victor Nikiforov—the five times winner of World Championship, is grinning while holding the banner over his head. "The God of Cats will bless you!"
Red flush rises on his cheeks, imagining Cats around him—especially since his Short Program is called The Sound of Roaring Tiger—blessing him with their amazing and divine selves, and their soft fur and their roars, and their beautiful grace—
"Show them that tiny Russian kitten has claws!" Victor continues without missing a beat and Yuri bristles.
"I'M NOT TINY!" He has grown three centimeters since last year!
"He's not tiny, Victor," Yuuri agrees, looking at Victor with amused smile. "Yuri has grown since last year, and he's 16 now." The man turns to Yuri with such a fond look. "Already an adult, right?"
"Of course I am!" Yuri glares at them, ignoring the warmth blooming on his chest. "Stop treating me like a kid!"
Victor however, looks horrified. "Yuri's an adult... I feel so old!" He grabs Yuuri's shoulders in dramatic fashion—because that's what he is, Victor is such a drama queen. "Solnyshko, do I look old? Is my hair thinning already?"
"You're always beautiful, darling." Yuuri reaches to the silver strands, caressing them softly. "Ya lyublyu tebya."
Victor melts, grasping Yuuri's fingers and kissing them softly. "As I do for you, lyubov moya."
And now they're looking at each other with such tender expression; not minding the cameras around them, nor Yuri's increasing annoyance. Seriously, can't they stop looking like that for just a moment? Yuri's going to do a short program soon, he doesn't want to feel nauseated because Victor and Yuuri are being gross in front of his unfortunate eyes.
There's no use yelling at them now, since nothing can disturb them when they're on their own little world. Yuri has enough experience with them to know Victor and Yuuri would probably stare at each other for minutes before they get back to the real world. At least it's not that expression on their faces, which Yuri knows to mean that he has to get away soon or his eyes would be graced by an unsightly sight.
Whatever, he grumbles. Yuri's an adult now. He has promised himself to keep his temper in check; and if he ever finds himself with a partner, he would never be a gross couple like Victor and Yuuri. He has enough decency, thank you.
He thinks he's quite successful in his promises too. He doesn't have a partner nor crushes like those kids in his school do—since his life is busy enough with ice skates, he doesn't have time nor interest in dating—and his temper isn't as fiery as last year. He would consider he's getting softer now, except that Yuri Plisetsky isn't soft. Yuri Plisetsky is strong and fiery, but is much more mature than people his age because he can regulate his emotions better—being around Victor and Yuuri is enough to test anyone's patience after all.
Thus, Yuri walks with his chin high to the ice rink, where he's going to do his personal best on the short program and gets the first rank—because he's going to get better score than Yuuri's—then do better score on the free skate to get the gold medal—
"Ah, Yuri!"
Before him, is another—even more annoying than Victor and Yuuri combined—skater by the name of Jean-Jacques Leroy; with outrageous smirk on his—admittedly—handsome face.
"I'll be looking up for your magnificent performance—" JJ steps aside and bows with flourish—a hand on his chest and the other straight pointing the ice rink, "O' beautiful, Russian fairy prince," he says in deep voice, sending a wink at him and Yuri can hear the sound of JJ's fainting fans drop to the floor with dreamy screams.
Never mind his promises. Blood is going to be spilled on ice, and it would smell like Maple Syrup.
Notes
PS. My tumblr username is sacheland, if anyone wants to scream YoI with me...
