Yuuri Katsuki lets out a content sigh, swishing his fingers through the delightfully soothing water of the hot spring. His entire body aches from exercise, and his feet are sore from the recent hours of practice. He's lucky, having such a wonderful way to soak his muscles and unwind. This routine of skating and bathing has become uniquely his own, especially in the past few weeks.
Well, his routine… and his coach's.
He smiles a little, a bubbly warmth slowly spreading through his body as he thinks of the self-proclaimed trainer. He's exhausted from the workouts and the long days of skating, but all he can think of is how happy Viktor's arrival has made him.
Just as he's about to drift into a daydream, there's the sound of a door sliding. The skater sits up in the water, snapping out of his fantasies. "Yuuri!" the Russian champion calls his name with a bright smile.
"Viktor…" Yuuri shakes his head and turns away as Viktor Nikiforov, five-time world champion, steps closer, entirely naked except for the towel in his hand. "I thought you were sleeping?"
With a splash, Viktor joins him in the hot spring. "I was. I just woke up." He sets an arm around the Japanese skater.
"Did you sleep well?" Yuuri asks, trying his hardest not to think of Viktor's bare body clinging to his side.
"Yep. I rewatched the video of you performing my free skate program before I fell asleep, so I had a wonderful dream."
"O-oh!" Yuuri blushes, thoroughly flustered. "There was rumor that you'd watched it and that's what made you decide to come coach me."
"It's beautiful! The rumor's not wrong. Although it wasn't the first time I had considered it…"
"What?"
"Oh, nothing!" He gives his student another smile. "Yes, it was stunning. But in my dream, it was even better."
"Oh, really?" The skater turns to his coach sheepishly. "My performance was nowhere near as good as yours, I know."
"Not because of that reason." Viktor runs a finger down Yuuri's lips. "Don't be ridiculous."
"W-what reason, then?"
"Because in my dream…" The coach pulls him in close, their noses almost touching. Yuuri momentarily forgets how to breathe. "We performed it together."
"E-eh?" Yuuri blinks. He's suddenly lightheaded, whether from the bath or from Viktor's hands running down his abs he doesn't know.
"And we were stunning." The Russian champion dips his pupil with a dramatic flourish, steam drifting off his skin.
"I take it you mean a pair skate, then?" Yuuri asks, the tips of his hair submerged in the hot water.
"Mm-hm." Viktor pulls Yuuri back up from the dip, and the figure skater steadies himself. He couldn't help but feel slightly pleased at the thought of Viktor dreaming of him. Not that he'd ever mention it, of course.
"Well, I'm glad you slept well."
"Let's sleep together tonight!"
Yuuri stiffens at the frequent suggestion. "What's the point of you having your own room if you only want to sleep in my bed?"
Viktor smirks, sinking down in the bath and folding his arms. "I'm your coach, aren't I? Isn't it natural to want to sleep with you?"
"Uh… I'm pretty sure most coaches wouldn't exactly claim that to be a regular occurrence…"
"Really? Ah, well that makes sense." He winks at the skater. "Most coaches don't have students like you, after all."
His ears reddening, Yuuri turns away.
The soft night air seeps through half-open window of the small bedroom, the leaves of a nearby tree rustling in the wind. "You're so pushy…" Yuuri grumbles as his coach curls up against him. "This bed isn't big enough for both of us and Makkachin…"
The dog wags his tail and licks the skater's face as Viktor rests his chin against Yuuri's shoulder. "Yuuri. About my dream… when we skated, it was…" he trails off.
"…It was what?"
"I…" Viktor turns away after a moment, shaking himself out of it. "No, it's nothing. Nevermind."
Surprised by his serious mood, Yuuri sits up and reaches for his coach's arm. "No, I want to know. What are you thinking?"
Viktor pushes himself up to look at his student. "I remember what you looked like when you skated my program. It was so intense, so passionate, and yet so tender." The champion laces their fingers together. His hands are gentle, slender, and strangely comforting.
"So… what?"
"I want you to look that – no, to feel that – on the ice again."
"I know, I'm working on it…" Yuuri mumbles.
"That's not what I mean." Viktor tightens his grip and lifts Yuuri's fingers to his lips. "Yuuri, do a pair skate with me."
"What?" Viktor's kiss is hot on his fingers and sends a warm shiver down his spine. "Are you dreaming again?"
"Maybe." The coach runs his thumb down Yuuri's palm. "But I think we could pull it off."
The figure skater turns away, his face hot. "A pair skate… and just when would we do that?"
"Well, in my dream, there wasn't a specific place… but I think we could perform it at the exhibition."
"I feel like you're too reliant on your dream… and beyond that, how am I supposed to learn and maintain a pair skate while also working on my own programs?"
"We'll perform a revised version of my Stay Close to Me free skate. You already know the choreography, don't you?"
"Well, yeah, but…"
"I already have some ideas, but we'll choreograph the new version together. Don't worry. With the two of us, how could it possibly go wrong?"
Yuuri stares at him, baffled. "Are you being serious?"
"Of course." Viktor drops his hand and stands up. "But in the end, it's only an idea." He picks up Makkachin. "Good night, Yuuri. I'll sleep in my room tonight."
"Viktor…" His coach smiles and turns away, pushing open his bedroom door. Yuuri grits his teeth, knowing that it is his turn to speak up. "I-I suppose…" he calls as Viktor steps into the hall. "Well, it wouldn't hurt to try it…"
Viktor's shoulders lift almost imperceptibly.
Yuuri awakens to Makkachin enthusiastically licking his cheeks, tail wagging and eyes bright. "Makkachin… what time is it?" Groggily, he reaches for his phone. Fumbling and half-asleep, he hits the power button once… twice…
Dead. The skater leaps out of bed, sending Makkachin sprawling with an excited bark onto his sheets. He grabs his bag, not wanting to know the time as he curses himself for forgetting to charge his phone the night before.
"Oh, Yuuri!" Mari calls as he hurriedly pulls on his shoes by the front door. "You're not having breakfast?"
"I'm late!"
"Eh? But Viktor said not to wake you…"
"Huh? He did?"
"He left early, too. Earlier than usual, I think."
Hopelessly confused, Yuuri bolts out the door. He bursts into the rink several minutes later, preparing an apology just in case Mari had been mistaken. Why on earth would his coach let him sleep in?
"Oh, Yuuri! Good morning!" Viktor calls. His jacket is thrown over the side of one of the bleachers, and his water bottle sits open along the rink wall.
"Viktor… are you practicing?"
"Experimenting. Come here for a second."
"Sure… oh, hang on…" Yuuri sets his backpack down to tie his skates.
"Hey, can you land a twist flip?"
"I think so, if I practice it."
"And how much do you weigh again?"
"Why is that important?"
"Well, I'm obviously going to be the one doing the lifting in all this."
Yuuri looks up at his coach, who smirks at him from the side of the rink. "Finished? Come here."
Feeling unusually jittery, the skater steps onto the ice. "We'll switch things up for a pair skate, but for starters, why don't you perform the program alone just to get reacquainted with it? Do you still remember it all?"
"You mean… Stay Close to Me?" Yuuri almost laughs. He had worked so hard to perfect it that there was no way he'd forgotten. "Yes, I do."
"Good." Viktor leans against the side of the rink. "Go warm up. When you're ready, I'll start the music."
Obediently, he skates around the rink several times and stretches his legs along the rink wall. Taking a deep breath to focus, Yuuri sets his glasses down, and glances up to see his coach watching him intently. "What?"
"Nothing."
Insides hot, Yuuri makes his way silently to the center of the rink.
After a moment, the music begins. He slowly lifts his chin, drifting through the gentle motions with ease. He knows these moves so well, and he's dripping with the emotion that always accompanies it. He's watched Viktor perform it countless times, practiced it since last season had ended. It was threaded through his body, and flowed out effortlessly.
As he skates, he imagines Viktor, watching from the side of the rink. Watch me. I'm not a recording now.
The first jump has never felt so easy.
It's funny. He can feel his coach's eyes on him as he swirls about the ice. And yet, rather than feeling more nervous, he feels more at ease. The emotion that he has trouble bringing into his own programs comes gushing out as he moves through Viktor's Stay Close to Me. Perhaps it's because this gentle, enchanting program suits his personality more. Perhaps it's because it requires a more innocent, docile love.
And yet, as he lands the second jump, he knows that the true reason is because this feeling that the Stay Close to Me program is supposed to encompass – this feeling of tender warmth – comes to him entirely naturally.
And that feeling is only heightened by the presence of his idol.
He lands the third jump, preparing to wind up for the spin that follows almost immediately, when Viktor's hands collide with his.
Rather than stop him, Viktor joins him in motion. "Yuuri," his coach whispers, his hands wrapping around Yuuri's waist. "I'm going to lift you."
For some reason, he doesn't resist at all. Like the program, this feels natural, this feels right.
"I'm ready." Viktor's hands tighten, and Yuuri's body electrifies beneath his touch.
"You're ready?"
"Yes."
The lift is small, but as his feet leave the ice and Viktor's fingers dig into his abdomen, Yuuri's breath hitches. "Viktor…"
His coach sets him gently back down on the ice. "Let's do that lift there," he whispers, his breath dancing across the skater's ear. Yuuri feels his body temperature soar.
They slow to a stop, the music still playing. "Viktor." Yuuri turns to face his coach. He swallows, gazing into Viktor's bright blue eyes. "I…"
For a moment, there's only the sound of the music, echoing throughout the rink.
"You… what?" His coach asks gently when he doesn't continue.
I love you.
That would have been it, wouldn't it? Yuuri closes his mouth, looking away. Words like that weren't allowed yet, no matter how fast his heart was beating or how deeply he ached to confess.
"Nothing…" His reluctance is obvious, even to his own ears.
"Hm. Okay," Viktor holds out a hand, a knowing smile dancing over his lips. "Then let's practice."
It's been such a long journey. Yuuri knows how far he has come since they first practiced this pair skate on the ice all those months ago. How his confidence has blossomed, and how he is not just a better skater, but a better person thanks to Viktor.
The music begins to play, echoing throughout the dark arena. This pair skate was originally Viktor's idea, but the matching costumes had been Yuuri's. As the spotlight comes up and he slips through the familiar, sweeping moves, he can sense Viktor's presence along the other side of the darkened rink, waiting to join him along the ice.
They decided to keep his coach's entrance into the pair skate the same as it had been the first day. It represented the unexpected appearance Viktor had made before the season began – and the moment Yuuri truly found love. A fitting way, they had decided, to end his love-themed season, and seal their companionship. The audience applauds loudly, yet respectfully, as if they know that they are witnessing something too precious for words.
It is perhaps the most captivating performance of the year.
After, as they bow before the enchanted onlookers, Viktor's hand grazes Yuuri's. This time, Yuuri is the one that entwines their fingers.
They leave the ice hand-in-hand, and Yuuri pulls his partner into an empty hallway. "Viktor, I know what I wanted to say to you all those months ago, the first time we practiced this."
"You can say it now."
"I…" Yuuri turns to him, locking eyes. A thousand unsaid feelings of gratitude, joy, and desire catch in his throat. "I love you," he manages to choke out.
The Russian champion takes him by the waist and pulls him in.
Viktor's lips are soft, tender, and warm. Yuuri wraps an arm around his neck as his coach holds him close.
After a moment, they pull away. "Come with me to St. Petersburg, Yuuri," Viktor whispers, stroking Yuuri's gold ring with his thumb.
The skater smiles. He'd been unsure of his path for most of his skating career, constantly trying to figure out the right answers and constantly questioning his decisions.
Now, all Yuuri can say as he embraces Viktor is a definite, absolute, "Yes."