Yuuri sat crossed legged on the bed, scrolling through SNS on his phone that evening, silver medal lying next to him on the hotel lamp table. There were many photos of that day's competition from the fans with hundreds of thousands of comments each. There were also photos posted by his fellow competitors from that day; JJ posted one with he and Isabella posing with his bronze medal, Phichit posted several selfies of himself with various staff, fans and fellow competitors, including Yuuri and Viktor, and Otabek had posted a photo of the empty rink along with a thoughtful quote and congrats to all the Grand Prix Finalists, and also a short video of Yurio's free skate. Chris had a singular selfie with Minako and his fans, still wearing that flower crown and looking as seductive as ever. Yurio too posted one of himself still in costume, holding his gold medal, a slight smirk on his face, next to Yakov and Lilia, though Yuuri thought his younger namesake looked a bit dissatisfied. Was it because Yuuri had one-up'd him in the free skate? Yuuri kept scrolling; more fan posts, more of his best friend's selfies, more fan posts, some articles about the competition intermixed, more of Phichit's photos. Then he saw it; Viktor had taken a selfie with the he, Yurio, and JJ on the podiums behind him, and his coach looked so proud. Of course while they were in the kiss and cry, Viktor had already told him that but still, the look on Viktor's face, his sparkling crystal grey-blue eyes and his huge grin only confirmed it further.
And then there was the photo after, where he had surprised Yuri grabbing him by his silver medal and kissing him on his cheek while snapping a photo; Yuuri blushed upon looking at his blushing and shocked face. There were over 6k comment on that photo. It had its own news article. Yuuri died a little...okay A LOT internally. Even though he and Viktor were sorta, kinda, maybe, probably engaged and about 87% of the world's population declared them a legitimate couple, Yuuri was still embarrassed. He looked at the gold ring on his finger. They had posted on SNS of their intertwined hands with the rings the same day they were exchanged in front of the church…but it was captioned as "good luck" charms. They stood for more not soon after though. Viktor had kissed him before that day in China, and on that day, but that night in Barcelona after they got back to their hotel room…Yuuri had made the first move and it only escalated after that. To this day Yuuri found nothing hotter than Viktor cursing in Russian as Yuuri got f**ked into the hotel mattress. And finding his thoughts drifting back to that night, Yuuri locked his phone and buried his now reddened face into his hands. Even now…he was unsure of just exactly what he and Viktor were. Especially now that Yuuri was staying and Viktor was returning to the ice. They were competitors, partners, coach and pupil; as one era ended Yuuri saw another begin. He still felt subpar to Viktor; perhaps he always will feel that way, or was it just his anxiety taking over again. Even now…he wondered what Viktor saw in him, why he stayed, if he'd stay. "OF COURSE HE'LL STAY," Yuuri thought to himself. "Stop doubting that! Viktor said he'd stay and he will keep his word…right? Right…?" Oh yes, Yuuri's anxiety was definitely taking over again. It could be resolved if he just asked Viktor that one little question…once and for all. But he could never do that; he was poor little dime-a-dozen Japanese skater Katsuki Yuri. Viktor was Viktor Nikiforov, the living legend. Viktor Nikiforov who won five consecutive World Championships, five straight Grand Prix Finals, and numerous European championships. Viktor Nikiforov, whose free program record Yuuri just broke hours before. Viktor Nikiforov, who Yuuri had oogled over for over a decade if not more. THE Viktor Nikiforov who dropped everything to come and coach Yuuri. Yuuri still wonder how many lives he must have saved in his previous lives to deserve such an honor to even breathe the same air as Viktor.
Yuuri was having such an intense argument within his own head that he did not even notice Viktor returning to into the room with a ridiculously large bouquet of pink roses and a bottle of red wine. Viktor was about to try and grab Yuuri's attention when he noticed the man's forlorn expression reflected in the television screen. Viktor had seen that look too many times for his liking; Yuuri was doubting himself again. Yuuri's anxiety was a great and terrible mystery to Viktor, one he would love to expel from his beloved forever…if only he could. He set the wine down and made his way over to stand in front of Yuuri to block out his reflection in the TV; that finally snapped Yuuri out of his trance. He now looked shocked with lightly blushed cheeks at the elaborately arranged roses in front of him. "Viktor-" he started before he shut his mouth again; what could he even say with such a blanked out mind. Viktor nudged the roses into Yuuri's arms with a soft smile before sinking in next to him on the bed and setting his head on Yuuri' shoulder as Yuuri continued to stare at the roses, cheeks now a deeper pink. Yuuri chocked out a quick "thank you" before glancing over to Viktor. "Yuuri…I hope you're not listening to 'it'; you know it's all lies," Viktor chastened, referring to Yuuri's anxiety. The Japanese man stiffened again at the comment, stuttering out that he was not. "любимая-" "Okay maybe a little bit…but I'm getting better at ignoring it," Yuuri said. He was still staring at his roses. "Hmm…I know Yuuri, and I give you credit for your efforts. Still…I don't like to see you succumbing to your negative thoughts," Viktor replied. Yuuri sighed. "Viktor-" Yuuri began again.
"Hmm?"
"What now?" Yuuri asked.
It was a short question, but it carried much weight and many more implications. It was left vague for a reason. Yuuri had not won gold, and he may never win gold with Viktor returning. "I guess we are never getting married than…or maybe Viktor planned this from the start," Yuuri thought. Viktor thought for a moment. "Well…I guess you're just going to have to work harder to earn my hand in marriage," Viktor replied, stoic faced and in a flat voice. At this, Yuuri was ready to die. "I mean…you already broke one of my records; cheer up Yuuri! I'm getting old and worn out; you'll have me beat in no time!" Viktor joked. Yuuri did not laugh back. "Even then…Yurio would gladly and easily hand me defeat over and over again…" Yuri mourned in his head. "Yuuri. Talk to me." Viktor said. He set the roses onto the table along with Yuuri's silver medal and turned to face Yuuri, staring into his chocolate eyes. "What if I never win gold-" "You will-" "No Viktor, just IF; what if Yuri always beats me, what if I never beat you again, what if-" "YUURI," Viktor says a little louder. Yuuri stops talking immediately. Viktor sighed; he had done it again…accidently adding to Yuuri's anxiety with his marriage stipulations. He wasn't the best coach…but he was trying. Viktor then promptly stood up and squished Yuri's head into his stomach as he stroked his raven-colored hair, still slightly damp from his earlier shower. Yuuri let him, silently absorbing the scent of ice and expensive cologne distinctive to Viktor. "Oh Yuuri…I wish I could go into your head and kill off your anxiety once and for all. Why do you doubt yourself so much; you are so loved. You are such a treasure. You stomp over my world record and you still say you have no talent. You skate a program that took me months to perfect in a day, in a tiny rink for your friend, almost perfectly. It hurts me to see you like this still. Tell me Yuuri, what should I do? How should I save my precious Katsudon from his own evil thoughts?" Viktor asked, softly and sternly but full of affection and concern. Yuuri was not sure how to react or what to think…but his eyes were misty and he was ever so slightly shaking now. All he could manage was a choked "Oh". He then reached for Viktor's ring hand and brought it to his lips, pressing the gleaming ring to his lips. Viktor then knelt in front of Yuuri and used both hands to have Yuuri face him. He proceed to kiss away the tears Yuuri definitely did not have running down his cheeks and Yuuri weakly used a hand to wipe at the ones that Viktor did not have coming down his face. "Oh Yuuri…tonight was supposed to be happy; you won silver! And you beat my record!" "But I failed-"
"No Yuuri, you did not. We may not be getting married yet, but I promised to stay with you forever. I promise to stay by your side forever, even after you retire, even if you choose to leave the ice, even if you never win gold"
"But-"
"No buts Yuuri; you're stuck with me forever," Viktor stated firmly. Yuuri stared at Viktor's stern face through their tears, and he knew his coach was serious.
"Okay?"
"Okay".
That night after their tears had dried, after the roses had been put in a vase, after Viktor had showered and joined Yuri under the sheets, as they cuddled and enjoyed the white noise of the outside world, they found a sort of peace. Soon Yuuri feel asleep, no dreams but no nightmare either, which is really all he could ask for at the moment. Viktor held Yuuri tightly as he stared at the lights peering through the cracks in the curtains, surrounding by the scent of Yuuri. Yuuri smelled of citrus for some reason, but Viktor liked it; it was warming in contrast to the cold of the ice. He thought sadly of how his love was still full of doubt and sadness and uncertainty; he felt so helpless. HE, Viktor Nikiforov, may be a master of ice but he was a failure to Yuuri. He could not save him from his the evil that was his anxiety. As he drifted off to sleep to the sound of the cars down below in the streets and Yuuri's gentle snores, he wondered if he could ever truly save Yuuri.
Yuri Plisetsky stared at the gold medal in his hands; he felt so numb. He had won, Yuuri was staying, Viktor was returning, and he had kicked the older Russian's short program record, so why did Yuri feel so empty. Maybe it was because Otabek had not made the podium; as much as JJ was a talented skater Yuri felt that Otabek had the stronger performance in both programs and should have won bronze. Oh well, Otabek would most definitely make the podium at Four Continents. Yuri had no doubts that he would. But why worry for Otabek. Yuri knew he was to face his greatest challenge yet. He may have made history, as he was born to do so, but he was up against both Yuuri AND Viktor. He was arrogant but not stupid; it would not be easy to repeat his performance at the Grand Prix. He needed new programs too, and this time he did not have the advantage of Viktor gifting him one. Still, he had to win. He had a reputation to uphold. He looked around his hotel room, the dozens of roses and cat plushies flung at him by fans. There was also a new tiger print phone case, courtesy of Mila, that now resided on his phone. Yuri hated himself, not only because he almost did not beat Yuuri but also because his body betrayed him so. He check his SNS again, scoffing at Viktor's selfie with Yuuri before shutting his phone, jamming the charger in and slamming the lights off. He then cuddled with a tiger plush gifted by a certain fellow skater that he definitely did not have a crush on.
*любимая (Beloved)
A/N: Hi guys…this is my first fanfiction in like 4 years. Yuri On Ice inspired me to start writing again. I am super receptive to suggestions, corrections, and constructive criticism so feel free to PM me and/or leave comments! I really appreciate that you've taken the time to read this fanfic 3. So thank you reader! And I hope you like this work :3.