The cold wrapped around him as he spun through the air before he slammed back onto the ice with seventeen hundred pounds of force reverberating through his leg, shaking it off a fraction of a second later in a slick glide across the ice. His free leg twisted around to bring his performance to an end and freeze him in his final pose. He held it in his trembling body as tears pricked at his eyes. Skaters crying after a performance was nothing new but not him; not now; not after this performance; not in front of them. He gave a cursory wave to the audience before skating off the ice and fumbling his skate guards while his throat filled with his held tears to the point of bursting. Finally, he got his second guard on and he stomped past the kiss and cry, ignoring his coach's angered looks as he yanked his arm free from his grasp.

Past the chattering locker room and the far too public bathroom, he stomped past the security guards with all the elegance of a man in shoes built for grace on the ice and nowhere else to a door labeled 'Storage Room' just around the corner. He pushed the door open then slammed it shut and slid down in front of it as if to hold back a sea of people who would try to break it down. In the dark, quiet room surrounded by nothing but mops and bottles of chemicals, his tears broke free in a coughing gasp. Forced to contort around their demanding weight, his head fell forward onto his knees. A small scuffle in the corner grabbed his attention and his head jerked up, slicing off his tears as he strained to look through the black to the source of the noise.

"Um… I'm sorry." A small figure in the dark crept slightly forward, hunched low like his own. "I didn't mean to interrupt your privacy. You just came in here and started… Um… I didn't know what to do. I tried to keep quiet thinking that if you just didn't know I was here, it wouldn't be… Um… awkward and you could just go when you were done. I'm sorry. I should…"

He couldn't resist chuckling at the poor boy's plight of having some stranger barge into his hiding spot and just start sobbing like an idiot. He sniffed back his tears as he wiped his face on the back of his hand. "Looks like we have the same taste in private sanctuaries."

The other man gave a small huff of laughter. "Yeah, bleach and Pine-Sol is just really soothing, ya know?"

"Mmm, I more prefer the obliterating darkness myself. That and the fact few people would want to hang out in a dark closet."

"I'm sorry. I really didn't mean to interrupt you. I didn't see you come in, you slammed that door pretty fast, so if I just sneak out now I'll never know who you are and your secret will be safe then, right? Just… Um… Whatever is making you so upset… I'm really sorry."

The complete sincerity in his tone made his chest warm ever so slightly. "What's your name?"

"Wait, won't that ruin our pact of secrecy?"

"I never made such a pact. I'd like to know the name attached to such a sweet, young man."

"… Yuri." His voice drifted gently through the dark.

"Yuri…" He caressed the name around his tongue. It felt good there. Like it belonged. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Yuri. I'm Viktor." Yuri gasped and then chuckled lightly. "Oh? Is that funny?"

"No, no. I just… Nothing. It's just wild thoughts having way too much fun with my weakness. My brain really loves messing with me. Sorry. That was a weird thing to say."

"No, it wasn't."

"So… Um… I don't mean to pry and please don't feel like you have to answer, but… What's wrong? I mean if you want to tell me, I'm a pretty good listener. Or so I've been told."

Viktor cocked his head. "Lots of people are good listeners when it comes to getting dirt. My issue is more that people are also good talkers."

"Oh. Uh, yeah. I'm not so great with that myself."

Viktor chuckled. "No, I guess I don't see you being a motivational speaker any time soon."

Yuri laughed with a warm tone that went straight to Viktor's heart like the first note in a song that you just know is going to be amazing. "No, that sounds like my worst nightmare as far as careers go. Your secret is safe with me if that's what you're worried about. The brotherhood of the cleaning supply closet must stick together, right?"

"Hmm… If we must stick together, why are you so far away? If I must confess my secrets to you, I'd rather feel that at least I'm talking to a person instead of the empty dark. If I can't see you, at least let me feel you." He patted the cement floor next to him.

"Oh, okay. Um. Sure." Yuri carefully scooted next to Viktor and sat with his back against the door a few inches away from him.

Viktor sighed and scooted the last few inches feeling Yuri's body brace hard for a moment before he let out a huff and relaxed next to him. "So, you want to know my darkest secrets, huh?"

"No! I just. I just wanted to… help. If I could. I don't know what good I could do, but sometimes having someone just listening feels good."

Viktor nodded slowly. "Yeah, I suppose it does. It's been a long time since I've had someone listen like that. Not since… not since the source of my tears died." He felt Yuri's body gasp before he heard it. "He found me in closets too actually." A smile twitched on his lips. "He always knew when I was upset and where to find me. He'd just barge in and sit with me until I told him everything. Then he'd either give me a hug or smack me upside the head if I was crying for something idiotic. I never could tell. It was a surprise every time, almost like a game."

"Who was he to you?" Yuri's voice was soft, still trying not to intrude despite his clear invitation.

"My brother. My big brother Alexei."

"Oh, no. Oh, I can't even imagine. I'm so so sorry, Viktor. I have an older sister and I just… can't imagine."

Viktor smiled. "Are you close to your sister?"

"Yeah. I mean, I haven't seen her for four years because we live so far apart, but we talk regularly. She's a pain, but she's great."

"Wow. Four years? That must be tough being so far away from family you love."

"It is. I miss them like crazy and… Well, hopefully, I'll be able to go home soon."

"What were you going to say there? You started to say something but you stopped."

"It's nothing. It's just… my reason for being here. My sister just called to tell me my dog has cancer. They don't think there's a lot they can do. It felt stupid to say next to your pain."

"Oh, Yuri, no it's not. I adore my dog. I would be devastated if something happened to him. I'm so sorry." He threw his arm over Yuri's shoulder and hugged him tightly. Yuri's body heaved under his arm in a choked sob and then froze. "It's okay. You can cry too. At least you know I won't laugh at you for it."

"I'm trying to make you feel better here. I can't exactly do that if I'm crying too loud to hear you."

"Isn't the brotherhood about making each other feel better? I mean we're both obviously not here to celebrate."

Yuri sniffled. "I don't know. I didn't realize we had established rules yet."

"Ah, I hate rules. They put too much pressure. We've been given a unique opportunity here under the cover of dark and I don't want to squander it so I'm going to chat with you without any concern for pleasantries and discuss nothing but aching truths. It's been so long since I've had that. Is that okay with you?"

"Yeah, okay. I can do that. How long… how long ago did Alexei pass?"

Viktor scoffed. "Passed. I hate that word. That's what people use when they think that speaking gently will somehow make the pain better. It's really just so they don't have to taste the truth on their lips."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-"

"It's okay. I didn't mean it as an attack on you. It actually doesn't sound as bad coming from you. Every word you say is softened like you don't want to impose yourself on the world at all. It didn't stand out like you were trying to suddenly hide. You're always hiding, aren't you?"

"Yeah, I guess I am."

"And at least you used his name. Most people won't. If we all just don't talk about it, maybe that aching Alexei-shaped hole will just go away, right? Sorry. I'm rambling instead of answering your question. Alexei died sixteen years ago. I was ten; he was fifteen and the best big brother. He looked out for me and supported me with the things I loved. Plus, he was a buffer between me and my parents. He was so much like them and I was so much not. Alexei managed to get me anyways even though they didn't. They're both professors so academics is all that matters to them and as much as I tried, I just couldn't keep my focus on school enough to get the grades they wanted from me. Alexei never struggled. He was just naturally brilliant. He was going to be a doctor. I always thought that by the time I was created, all of their genius DNA had been used up on Alexei. It would have been easy to hate him for it except for the fact that he was so hard to hate. He's the one who pushed me into the life I have now, who pushed my parents to let me do what I loved. Regardless of any envy, how do you hate someone who pushes you to do your best at something you love?"

"I kind of get that. He sounds like an amazing person."

"He was. So much better than me. I know my parents wish it had been me instead of him."

"I'm sure that's not true."

"Oh, I'm sure it is. They pretty much say as much any time they can bring themselves to mention anything close to him. He was their pride and joy. I was… not. I couldn't offer them grades or their favorite son back so I tried to be the best at what I could do. Be more talented, nicer, more joyful, more gracious, funnier… What I didn't understand was that if you're not what someone wants, being more of that isn't going to do any good. It wasn't until I left home that they finally got what they really wanted from me. Less."

"Oh, Viktor, I-"

"Ah ah," He sought out Yuri's face in the dark with the palm of his hand and once located, he put his finger on Yuri's nose and tapped it. "No pleasantries, remember?"

"That's a rather flippant response to a genuine expression of sympathy. I wasn't expressing a 'pleasantry', just the ache in my heart at hearing that."

"Ah, yeah. I suppose it is. I'm not used to… genuine."

"That's unfortunate."

Viktor huffed a breath of laughter. "Pity. I haven't had anyone pity me in forever. So, what kind of dog do you have, Yuri?"

"A toy poodle."

"Cute! I have a poodle too, but he's a big one. He loves to jump on me and has terrible manners. I love it. What's your dog's name?"

"Um. Viktor actually."

"Like me?"

Yuri gave a little nervous laugh. "Yeah. Don't laugh, but I named him after Viktor Nikiforov. I'm a huge fan of his. Ever since I saw him skate at the Junior World Championship when I was 11, I've been a little, okay a lot, obsessed."

Viktor's eyes widened, but Yuri couldn't see that in their shroud. "How obsessed are we talking here?"

"Um… probably way beyond normal, but well shy of stalker? I mean, I wouldn't even have the courage to talk to him if I ever got the chance to meet him let alone do something crazy like show up at his house so I think I'm within the normal limits there, but yeah, my room? That's basically a shrine to Viktor."

"Really? Why him?"

"Have you ever seen him skate?"

"Um, clips here and there, but never a full routine."

"You're missing out then. He's incredible. He's an amazing jumper, always technically flawless, but he's not a robot like you often see with skaters like that. He has so much artistry and elegance and he puts so much thought into his performances. You can tell that it matters to him, you know? Not the winning, the performance. He's a genius. Honestly, I wouldn't be the person I am today without him inspiring me every day."

"Wow. That's quite a tribute. I'm sure he would be honored to hear an amazing person like you crediting him with any portion of that. So, is it just inspiration, or do you have a crush on him?"

Yuri made a squeak that warmed a smile onto Viktor's face. "Um. Yeah, I guess… it's probably both. It's hard to separate him out into categories, you know? He's gorgeous and incredibly sexy and talented and good and it all wraps up into one incredible person that just demands that I feel something about him."

"Good?"

"Like, a good person. He's always generous to his fans and gracious with his competitors even when they're not to him. Some people get the success he has and turn into assholes but not him. He has a good heart."

"I don't know. He's probably at least a bit of an asshole."

"Aren't we all?"

Viktor laughed and squeezed Yuri's shoulders tighter. "I don't think you have even a drop of asshole in you. You're too sweet for that."

"I have my moments. If I'm being honest, I can be a little self-centered especially when I'm freaking out which happens far more than I'd like to admit. It's hard to get out of my own head sometimes."

"Why do you freak out?"

"I get really nervous. Anxiety I guess is the right name for it. I can crash and burn when it matters the most like nobody's business. Not like Viktor who's always in control."

"No one's as in control as you think they are. So, did you come here tonight to watch Viktor?"

"Um, I guess you could say that." Yuri squirmed and rubbed the heels of his hands along his thighs. "Actually, yeah. Yeah, you should say that. He's the entire reason why I'm here, why I'm anywhere."

"You didn't see him skate though, did you? You were hiding in a closet."

"Yeah. I'm sorry that I missed it. It was probably spectacular as always and it was the first time anyone got to see his new program. I haven't missed that in years." Yuri's shoulders slumped under Viktor's arm.

"Hey, let's watch it together. I'm sure it's online already. Then I can say I've seen a full Viktor Nikiforov performance. What kind of Russian would I be without that?"

Yuri's warm laugh trickled into Viktor's chest again causing the song to swell. "A terrible one." He pulled out his phone and flicked it on, wincing and shining it away as the screen came to life. "Ugh, so bright! Hold on. Let me turn it down." He fiddled with the screen while trying not to look at it until the screen dimmed to the barest of light. "Much better… Ah, here it is."

"You found that quickly."

"Many years of experience, young grasshopper. I can spot a Viktor Nikiforov from a mile away."

"Hmm… I doubt that." As the video loaded, Viktor tried to glean as much of Yuri's face as he could in the dim light the screen afforded him, but it was still too dark to have any kind of light define him so he remained as just a sweet voice in the night. The music picked up and while he wanted nothing more than to watch Yuri's reactions, it was impossible and he would persist as a terrible Russian who had never seen Viktor Nikiforov skate so he turned his attention to the screen.

Watching Yuri was entirely unnecessary. His response poured out in gasping breaths, freezing and thawing muscles, and oh my god's spoken as if he could break a recorded Viktor's concentration by saying them too loud. The performance ended and they sat in tingling silence. "Oh my god. Tell me that is not the most beautiful performance he has ever done."

"I wouldn't know. I've only seen the one." Viktor's voice thickened.

"Oh, right. Then let me tell you; it was by far the best. It was so amazing. I can't believe I missed seeing that in person. It was… everything." Yuri's eyes stayed fixed on the frozen Viktor on the screen.

"What makes you say that?"

"Couldn't you feel it? He was pouring his heart out. I could feel his ache and loss like he was screaming it at me. He's usually not as… expressive. I mean, not expressive. He's always expressive… that's not the word I'm looking for. Raw. Naked. There's something there that has never been written before in the hundreds of interviews I've read. It's something he could only say on the ice."

"And to you apparently."

"Sure, I mean I guess I'm something of an expert on Viktor's performances, but this was something I've never seen before. His jumps weren't nearly as flawless as they usually are; the landings were perfect as usual, but there was a bit of… panic, maybe, in the set up that left him looking just a little desperate, reaching. Viktor never reaches for anything. He's never had to. Everything was always in his grasp, effortlessly. Or at least, that's what his performances would have you believe. I'm sure he's struggled just as much as the rest of us. He just has that little bit extra to overcome the struggle and make it look effortless. This was… letting us in." Yuri pulled the phone close to his face and squinted hard then flung it down with a tone of disgust. "Are the judges blind?! What the hell?! How the hell did he get scored that low? 178.51?! That's the lowest score he's gotten in years! It's not possible. They couldn't have watched the same performance. He was just as flawless as ever, but that performance was perfectly imperfect."

"It's probably the imperfect part of that they didn't like."

"No. They're wrong. It didn't make it less. It made it more. So, so much more. And that music… the music was perfect. I can't believe-" Yuri glanced over to the sobbing man burying his face in his shoulder. "Viktor? Are you okay?"

"Yuri? Can you-" He couldn't finish through his silencing tears. Yuri wrapped up the sobbing stranger into his arms as tight as he could and rocked him gently until the tears started to slow. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a few tissues and passed them to Viktor who took them gratefully and cleared his face to speak again. "Sorry. It was just… I knew I wasn't crying for something stupid then. Crying for Alexei is never stupid."

"I'm sorry. I can see why that performance would trigger those feelings."

"It wasn't the performance. It was how you understood it."

"Me? Why? I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you cry."

"I doubt few people would get it like you did, Yuri. In fact, I think you may be the only one to see it like that. Viktor didn't look too happy with that performance. I'm so glad I got to see it with you and hear your honest thoughts. So, you're a skater? Earlier you said he struggles like the rest of us."

"Yeah. Oh. I guess I shouldn't say that, huh? I just gave away my identity. There's only one Yuri here."

"It's okay. Your secret is safe with me. Can I see one of your performances?"

"Oh god. I'm not worth watching like that. I'm not as good as Viktor is."

"You're in the same competition as him, right?"

"Well, yeah, but that doesn't mean I'm at his level."

"I'm pretty sure that's exactly what it means."

"No. There's the skaters who actually compete for the gold and the rest who are just barely scraping in. I'm in the second category. Viktor's in the first. One day though, I'll get there. I'll get good enough to actually compete against him, to make him notice me. Preferably as I snatch the gold medal from his hands." He giggled to chase away the reality that he had just admitted that to another living soul.

Viktor smiled. "I thought you looked up to him, but now you say you want to crush him?"

"I do look up to him. And I want to defeat him. It sounds so arrogant to say. I'm sorry."

"No, go on."

"It's just… he makes me want to stand next to him. How could you not want to bask in a light like that? And I'm competitive enough that if I'm going to stand next to him, I'd rather it be just slightly above him. At least sometimes. I've always dreamed of having a bitter, but friendly, rivalry with him with both of us pushing each other harder and grasping between gold and silver; pushing each other to be the best we can be." He sighed and collapsed so low Viktor had to follow him down with his arm. "Not that that will ever be anything but a daydream. He's getting closer to retirement while I still languish just out of reach. This is almost worse than when I was just a little kid admiring him from afar. Like you said, we're at the same competitions now, but I'm just that one level away and I don't think I'll ever make that final jump. I'm just too weak."

"Too weak? What kind of nonsense is that? How could you have fought to get as far as you have and still call yourself weak?"

"I can perform well in practice, but at competitions? They make me so sick. My stomach churns so bad and I eat like crazy trying to make it go away and that makes me feel bloated and heavy, but the worst is that I get locked in my head. It's like someone's got me pinned down and their hand over my mouth and I feel… silenced under all of the chatter. I'm not so great with talking to people in most situations. On the ice is the only place where I feel like I can say what I want to say, but most of the time I get lost out there."

"Oh, Yuri, that must be so tough. Do you not have a good coach or enough support or something like that?"

"No. Celestino is great and my family is too. They've always supported me win or lose. It's just me. I don't know how to make my brain work with me instead of against me."

"Okay, show me. I want to see you skate. I'm requesting two videos. One of your worst performance and one of your best."

"What?! No! I can't show you that. Maybe my best, but not my worst."

"Why not? It's not like no one else saw it. I'm just one more person of many, right?"

"Yeah, but I didn't have to sit there and watch them as they watched me fail."

"You don't have to here either. You can't see me, right? I'm just a voice. Please? I'll just look it up on my own anyway, but I'd rather see it with you. Come on, Yuri. You've already seen me being a sobbing mess. Let me see your beautiful mess."

"I wouldn't call it beautiful at all. A mess? Yeah. It's definitely that." He sighed and picked up his phone again to start flipping through videos. "The worst… Hmm… there's so many to choose from. Oh. This one. This one was bad." He tapped the video and slowly moved the screen over so they both could see. "Please… be gentle." Viktor responded with an extra squeeze of his shoulders.

The music started and the camera focused tight on Yuri's face as he looked up from the ice and straight into the camera with just a hint of a smile. "Oh." Viktor's heart squeezed tight. "Yuri… you're beautiful."

"Shh… I thought there was nothing but truth here. You don't have to lie to me."

"I'm not lying. You're-" Viktor cut off with a gasp as Yuri's program started in full and his body stretched through a movement as though it were designed for perfection in that motion alone. "Gorgeous. His eyes widened as Yuri stepped into a sequence of light taps and swishes on the ice with ferocious speed and grace. "I thought this was supposed to be the worst one."

"Wait for it." Yuri reached for a quad toe loop and crashed hard onto the ice. They both cringed. "And there it is. It all goes downhill from here. You really don't need to watch more."

"Yes. I do." Viktor's breath huffed lightly across Yuri's cheek which made him shudder under his arm. Yuri on the screen was back on his feet and gliding through motions that looked as though his absolute limit was just where he felt like stopping, deeming it to be more than enough, and into spins so fast he became a blur on the ice. A jump combo came up and he landed too far forward on the last jump catching his toe pick on the ice and slamming into his face.

"Ugh. Who does that? Tripping over toe picks in an international competition like some rookie? It's so awful."

"The most beautifully talented skater I've ever seen, apparently."

"Okay, seriously? That's just mean."

"I'm not lying at all. Truly. You're far better than that Viktor Nikiforov. He's just better at landing jumps. You're better at everything else."

"Okay, now I know you're lying and messing with me." Another fall left them both cringing again each for their own reasons.

"I'm not. If you can figure out how to land those jumps, he won't stand a chance against you. It won't be a rivalry at all; just him trying to catch up to you. You've mastered that raw expression that he was trying for. Yuri on ice is nothing short of exquisite. I mean it, Yuri." His voice softened as he pressed a gentle kiss to Yuri's hair in an attempt to make his words sink in through that tangled mess that held them at bay. The performance ended and Yuri's hands dropped down to his knees clutching the phone tight. "You must not usually fall that much if you've come as far as you have. What happened?"

"It was stupid."

"Tell me anyway."

"It was a few years ago. I met a boy who I finally felt something for and I thought he returned the affection. I guess I just didn't know how American relationships worked. He said sweet things to me and showered me with attention. To me that meant he liked me, right? So, I slept with him. It was the first time I'd ever done that but it was great. He was kind and gentle and I was so happy I had finally found someone who could get my mind off of Viktor for more than five minutes. I went to a party a few days before that competition and he was there making out with some other guy. I was so hurt, but he just didn't get it. He said we'd never agreed to be exclusive so I was somehow supposed to be okay with that. I thought I meant something to him.

I kinda turned into a slut for a bit after that. I figured if that's all that sex was to people, I could just drown in the sensations of it too. And to be honest, it felt good to be out of my head for once. A bit of alcohol to switch off that incessant loop and some random guy to keep it quiet for just one night."

"Oh, Yuri. I know how you feel. I've had so many people who I ended up liking far more than they liked me and I responded similarly, trying not to get too attached to the people who showed interest realizing it was just that; a show. I'm so sorry that happened to you."

"I was at the height of that for this one." He tapped the screen and loaded his next video. "I was so numb that I stopped feeling anxious for a while and got the best scores of my career." They watched in silence as Yuri skated a clean, but unremarkable performance. "I skated a bit like Viktor in that performance. I mean, a pale imitation of him, but the style is more similar."

Tears sprang to Viktor's eyes and clouded his voice. "Yuri, why would you show this one as your best and the other as your worst?"

"Well, I got my personal best for this one and the other…Well, you saw it. It was terrible."

"Are scores the only thing that matter? Weren't you offended by the scores for Viktor tonight?"

"Yeah, but that's Viktor. It's just not possible for him to do so well and have all those judges fail to see it. I mean he didn't fall like I did. He had both perfect expression and perfect technicals. Maybe my expression was a little better in the first video and it definitely felt more like me, but it was embarrassingly bad."

"You are so wrong. I loved the first one far more than the second. The second wasn't a pale imitation of Viktor; it was a pale imitation of you. What about now? Are you performing like the first or the second video today?"

"Well, I stopped drinking so much and sleeping around. It got to the point where I couldn't deny how empty it made me feel and how much I really did care. So, the anxiety is back and I'm flubbing my jumps again."

"Good."

"Good?"

"Yeah, good. I wasn't kidding when I said that first performance was by far better. Jumps can be improved, but once you lose your passion, it's almost impossible to bring it back."

Yuri gave a soft laugh. "It's easy when you're as obsessed with Viktor as I am."

"Really? How so?"

"Um. Well, when I was a little kid I used to copy his routines with my friend Yuuko. I was feeling really down about everything and just so numb to life so I decided to do that again. I copied his free skate from last year and skating felt so good again."

"Really? Do you have any videos of it? I'd love to see that."

"Yeah, actually. My friend Phichit recorded me one day when I didn't know he was there. He currently uses his copy as blackmail to get me to comply with his every whim." Yuri laughed. "He's a social media monster so if he releases that, the entire world will know my shameful fanboying. Luckily, I know he never would. He's a true friend. He only ever threatens utter devastation."

"Please, can I see it? I promise to keep silent. Only you, me, Phichit, and the dark will ever know it even exists."

"What about the Pine-Sol? It seems a little sketchy."

"If it dares to utter a word, I'll take it out back and beat it into submission. I wouldn't let a little shit like that hurt my precious Yuri. Don't forget, I'm Russian. Everyone just assumes I'm either in the mob or know someone in the mob so I can be pretty scary if I want to be."

Yuri smiled. "I don't think you have one scary bone in your body. I've never felt so comfortable talking to someone before."

"The dark helps; you can't see my hideous face to scare you away. Now video, please?"

"Oh, okay. Just please don't laugh."

"Never." Yuri brought up the video and Viktor grabbed his hand to adjust the screen closer to their faces and left it there, wrapping around Yuri's warm hand as he clutched at the screen bringing him gifts he never expected to find in a supply closet.

Viktor's theme that year had been, "We're all going to hell anyway, might as well make the basket pretty." Blasphemy: the surest way to shock an audience. And the majestic Nikiforov debasing himself to a performance of unflinching lust nailed down any last traces of indifference. He'd studied the way belly dancers move trying to incorporate the sensual roll of their hips flowing into their bodies and winding out through their fingertips into the bodies of their lovers. He should have studied Yuri. Yuri ripped straight past sensual and into pure sexual without losing a drop of artistry. A fallen angel lured by a craving for something human on his first night in hell experiencing pleasure for the first time, melding the two worlds into one within his body. Viktor's hands gripped Yuri harder as he lost his breath to the performance.

"Viktor? What- what did you think?"

Oh, the video had ended. How long ago? "I- Yuri. Yuri, it was the best performance I've ever seen. Holy shit." He breathed out in a deep huff trying to get the blood back into the proper places in his body. "I want to show you what that did to me, but I don't want you to think that that's all I think of you."

"What do you think of me?" Yuri could have been fishing for compliments, but his hesitant tone begged the truth.

"I think that Viktor Nikiforov on his best day can't hold a candle to you on your worst. I think that the sun itself can't hold a candle to you at your best. I'm wondering how the hell I found such a precious treasure buried in mops and buckets. I think that you're a person who can see a complete stranger in the dark on one of his worst days and turn it into his best. I think that if I say any more, I'm going to scare you off so I'm going to shut up now."

"That's your honest opinion? No flattery?"

"Not a bit of flattery. I swear I truly think all that and more."

Yuri leaned in over Viktor, his lips brushing over his as he spoke. "Then show me."

Viktor seized Yuri's hair and his hand, placing his hand low on his stomach and pulling his lips deep into his. Yuri's hand brushed down over straining fabric and Viktor pressed his hips tight to his thigh. Yuri's hand moved around to his low back and pulled him tighter as their tongues soothed the aching, lonely holes in each other's chests. Viktor gripped him tight to himself, running his hands over his body then moaned deeply before shoving Yuri back to arm's length.

"I'm sorry. I really want to keep going but we're missing some crucial things. I don't mean to tease you; I promise I want nothing more right now. I just… I want to see you for our first time."

"We can turn the light on."

Viktor smiled and brushed his lips with a tender kiss. "Not yet. I'm still afraid my hideous face is going to scare you away."

"I don't really care what you look like. I don't think I've ever felt a connection with someone like this before. And if I'm being honest, you felt pretty sexy under my hands. I doubt you could be that hideous."

"Well, it's not so much hideous. It's… something else. I promise that if you still want me when we turn the lights on, I will fuck you until you beg for mercy, but can we stay in the dark just a little bit longer? I'm not ready to risk losing this yet."

"Okay." Yuri tried to muffle the disappointment in his voice as he sat back to Viktor's side. Viktor kissed the top of his head and hugged him tight in his arms. With his ear so close to Viktor's stomach, Yuri didn't miss the slight grumble. "Are you hungry?"

"Just a bit, but I'll be fine a while longer."

"Never fear," Yuri giggled, "the fat kid is here." He leaned forward and dragged a bag over to him and began rummaging in the dark.

"You're not fat!"

"Well, not so much right now. I was pretty chubby as a kid though and keeping weight off is always a struggle for me. Do you want sweet? Salty? Spicy?"

"Hmm… I think I'm in the mood for sweet. Preferably something Japanese."

"Perfect. I have just the thing."

Paper ripping and foil packaging tearing open preceded something smooth and silky sliding past his lips. He bit down and it crumbled into a mix of crispy biscuit and satiny chocolate coating his tongue. "Vkusno! So good, Yuri. What is this?"

"Pocky. The chocolate ones are good with coffee, but I only have water at the moment. Sorry."

"That's okay. Water's good." Yuri placed a box and a plastic bottle into his hands. He opened the water and drank down half of the bottle in seconds. "Want some?"

"No that's okay. I have another bottle and I'm not thirsty right now."

"Mmm… your performance left me parched." He took another few gulps. "Seriously, Yuri. What do you need to perform like that at a competition? It was so incredible. You need to give that arrogant Nikiforov a run for his money."

"Viktor's not arrogant at all. He's confident, but not arrogant." Yuri reached into the box and grabbed a Pocky stick to start munching.

"Forget about him. What is holding you back?"

"Well, anxiety like I said before."

"Yes, but you managed to get rid of it before. Granted it was less than healthy, but there must be some healthy way to reduce it. What about when you were with a boyfriend? Did that reduce it at all; feeling love like that?"

"Um, I've never really had a boyfriend or had anyone love me outside of my family."

"No, that's not possible."

"Oh, it is. The awkward bundle of stress and nerves that I am isn't exactly great material for inspiring love."

"That's not true at all. You're so loveable, Yuri, it's frightening." He pressed a kiss to Yuri's cheek. "If I were to ask you to go out on that ice and skate for me like you did for Viktor's program right now, do you think you could?"

"Um… maybe. I don't know. I mean I guess it's not a competition so I wouldn't be very nervous."

"What if I asked you to do it while naked?" Yuri shrieked then slapped his hands over his mouth. "Bingo. I think I know what might help. You're so afraid of people seeing you that when you summon the courage to expose yourself it takes everything you have and you fumble your jumps, but when you hide yourself away, you can make them. You need to practice being fully exposed so that it becomes less frightening."

"You are seriously suggesting that I go out there and skate naked on the ice where anyone could walk in and see me jiggling all over the place?"

"Well, I think you could be fairly safe to assume privacy in the middle of the night. That is from everyone's eyes but mine." Yuri gulped back another squeak. "I can bribe a night guard or two to keep their rounds and anyone else out of the rink. This is Russia. People are easily bought here."

"You're actually serious."

"Of course. I would never joke about something as serious as your skating. I want to see you make Viktor Nikiforov fall to his knees at your feet. That's where he belongs." Another squeak from Yuri elicited a chuckle from Viktor. "I take it you've had that fantasy before." He measured Yuri's stiff silence in his arms. "Oh, that's a top fantasy, right? It's okay. You can tell me. I won't be jealous."

"Um. Maybe. Just a little."

"A little? Tell me, when you fantasize about him, is he in control of you or are you in control of him?"

"Both. It depends on my mood." The box rustled as they grabbed more Pocky.

"If you could get him to do anything you wanted, right now, what would you ask of him?"

"To not retire just yet. And… to stand by my side and to let me see past the mask to the human buried within the god. I want to know who Viktor really is."

"Yuri." Viktor gulped down the still mostly unchewed mass of Pocky in his mouth wincing as it scraped his throat on the way down. "Why would you say it like that? Why… that?"

"You don't become Viktor Nikiforov without sacrificing everything. If you want to know the truth, I think he sacrificed himself. He got swallowed up in the god of perfection. I felt it when my anxiety went away. I got closer to my goals, but further from myself. His performance tonight confirmed that for me. He was struggling to show us the real Viktor just as scared and flawed as the rest of us and how did the judges reward that? With the lowest score in years. Just goes to show that our world doesn't want real."

"That's not true. You do real in a way that the world wants to see. You're just too scared to show them. Viktor doesn't know how to be anything other than the god anymore and it showed."

"Viktor?" Yuri brushed at the tears on his cheeks.

"I didn't tell you how he died yet."

"No. You didn't." Yuri wrapped his hands around Viktor's and clenched them tightly.

"I didn't tell you everything. Please listen and when I'm done, you can decide to slap me or hug me." He pushed Yuri back from himself, his hands lingering on his shoulders before dropping them to squeeze together in his lap.

"So, let me tell you how the world lost such a promising genius bound to help thousands before he even got a chance to help one. I needed him to pick a song for me. It was important, my first competition. Music was the one thing we had in common but his taste was so much better than mine. He tried to get me to pick telling me that it would have more meaning if I did, but it was too important to leave it up to me. I made him a cassette tape of my favorites and he listened to it for a week straight. He said he needed to live in the music for a bit before he could decide. He studied and listened. He ate and listened. He slept and listened. He listened so hard for me. He was listening as he read a book walking home from school, trying so hard to be both a perfect son and a perfect brother that he accidentally stepped into the street and couldn't hear the car blaring its horn. The Walkman stopped playing at the moment of his death and it took me years before I could even dare to listen to the song he chose for me with his life. It took even more years before I had the skill to do it justice.

I had begged my parents to come tonight telling them it wasn't for me but for Alexei, but they just said to reserve their spots and they'd make it if they could. That's worse I think than just telling me straight out they're not going to bother. I clung to that for years hoping that this time it would be it only to be disappointed yet again. I finally stopped asking, but I stupidly hoped this time they could manage to see me for four minutes for him. As I stepped off the ice, the only thing I could think was how relieved I was that they hadn't come. I had tried to do him justice, but I failed. In trying so hard to be perfect for him, I forgot what it felt like to be loved by him. I forgot what love felt like at all. Real love I mean; love that can withstand failures and flaws; love that seeks you out when you feel the worst. I tried to pull that memory back but it was too far gone. I tried to skate a performance worthy of a brother who gave his life taking the thing I loved so seriously, who accepted me even though I was so different, who cared enough to see me when I was less than perfect. I tried and I failed, Yuri. You're so right. I sacrificed myself trying to obtain enough perfection for him and lost the thing that made it matter. I lost the fact that he never asked me to be perfect. He just loved me.

I know it was terrible of me to not tell you who I was and even worse to encourage you to confess more. You just confessed and I didn't know what to do and then I was weak enough to want nothing more than your honest opinion unfiltered by my name. I'm so sorry, but I'm not sorry at all. You gave me a precious gift tonight and I'm going to hold onto it regardless of if you now hate me forever. You saw my flawed performance and you loved it anyway. So, I'm sorry that I'm not sorry, Yuri. If you can find it in your heart to forgive me for being a complete asshole, I meant every word I said tonight and I would love nothing more than to stand by your side."

Viktor reached up to fumble his fingers to the light switch and flipped it on sending both of their faces cringing away from the light. Yuri looked back up to his idol's face, streaked red and blotchy, still hiding from the light.

"You're an idiot." Viktor glanced up, his eyes crushed. "So stupid, Viktor. Why do you think that the brother who never asked you to be perfect would feel let down by your imperfect tribute to him?"

"I don't know."

"It meant something to you, right?"

"Of course."

"Then it meant something to him too."

"But it was so bad, Yuri. My lowest score."

"And? I loved that performance because it was real and I know that Alexei did too. If you were skating it for him, why does the judges' or your parents' or your coach's or my opinion matter at all? If he were here right now, would he slap you for that performance or hug you?"

"I don't know. I was never able to guess right."

"I think you do. Was your performance stupid or did it matter?"

Tears deepened the red streaks down Viktor's cheeks as he stared into Yuri's soft brown eyes. "It mattered."

"Then that's all there is to it. Alexei would be proud of you, Viktor. He's not sorry at all that he had a little brother to love so much that the things that were important to him mattered to him as well. He didn't watch your performance tonight and see its flaws. He watched and saw his little brother showing him his love and gratitude."

Viktor pressed his face back into the knees that he hugged tight to his chest as sobs trembled his body. "If- if you don't hate me too much, Yuri, can you-" Yuri sat back next to him and held him as tight as he could, his chin pressed to the top of his head and running his fingers in soothing strokes through his silver hair. Viktor let out a trembling sigh. "Thank you." They waited for the pain in Viktor's heart to empty into the room filled with impassive cleaning supplies and into the heart of a not-so-impassive Yuri. Viktor lifted his head and Yuri handed him a tissue. He dried his face and blew his nose then glanced at Yuri, not fully meeting his gaze. "And what are you going to do? Slap me or hug me?"

"Neither."

Before the wince settled on Viktor's face, Yuri had his lips caressing his. Viktor opened his mouth with a gasp and pulled him in, held him tight, and begged for it to be tighter. Yuri caressed him, deep and slow, refusing to let a single sensation pass unsavored or a piece of Viktor left ignored. They released each other's lips leaving their foreheads pressed to gasp in some needed air.

"Yuri… You forgive me?"

"No. Not yet. You'll be making that one up to me for a long, long time. That was a total asshole move, Viktor. You didn't just let me go on and on about you; you begged me to share more."

"I know I did. I couldn't help it. You were so honest. I don't know when was the last time I've heard honesty like that. I either get my praises sung to the heavens or Yakov trying to balance that all on his own by tearing me down. You saw me and you… cared."

"I always dreamed of meeting you and came up with a million different ways that would happen. My favorite was the one where I met you while standing just above you on the podium." Viktor brushed his fingers along Yuri's smile. "Not once in those million different fantasies did I come up with meeting a sobbing Viktor in a closet and honestly, I can't imagine a better way to have met you. Any other way I would have been a stuttering, tomato red mess. Well, unless I was drunk. That might have worked too, but then I would have to risk making a total ass of myself. This way I got to meet Viktor, the human who struggles and worries and hurts and loves, not Viktor Nikiforov, the god. And instead of a moronic fanboy who likely forgets to breathe and passes out, you got to meet Yuri, the still moronic fanboy who managed to actually talk to you almost like a normal person."

"No, I got to meet Yuri, the shy, incredibly sweet man who saw a total stranger crying and offered him genuine care and support. Yuri Katsuki, the greatest skater alive who has performances that can warm the heart of a bored and jaded man and can teach that overblown Nikiforov a thing or ten about a good performance. Yuri who kissed me with so much passion only knowing of Viktor, the human. Yuri who gave me back the love of a brother that had long been forgotten. If the price I have to pay for that is spending forever making it up to you, I will gladly pay that. Let me start by taking you to dinner."

"That's a good start. How else do you plan to make it up to me?"

"Hmm... Let's see. I'll help you find a way to show what you can really do to the world so that you can achieve your goal of a bitter, but friendly, rivalry with Viktor Nikiforov. I'll keep skating as long as you want to keep competing against me; you can decide when I retire. I'll make sure Viktor the dog gets the best treatment available so you have many more years with him. I'll take you to the beach and shopping and sightseeing and anything else your heart desires. And I'll stand by your side proudly for as long as you want me there."

"Okay." Yuri nodded, a smile underneath his red-stained cheeks. "I'll hold you to those promises until you say you're sorry for messing with me."

"Yuri…" Viktor's fingers stroked along Yuri's cheek to rest under his chin tilting it up slightly. "I'll never be sorry."