He was fourteen the first time he skated against Victor. The long haired pretty boy had come out of nowhere— a year older and so much better. They were both in juniors and Yuri could not believe he had to push himself against another competitor. It pissed him off, and he hated that long silver haired kid.

"Why did Yakov have to have two in juniors at the same level?" Yuri asked himself, leaning against the wall, watching as Victor spiraled into a quad flip and landed perfectly.

"Oh Yuri! You are so grumpy!" Mila said, wrapping her arms around him. "You are just upset you have actual competition coming up as you enter seniors!"

Shaking her off of him, Yuri stomped off and slid out on the ice. He hated that Victor was here now. It had been a year now, and all he could do was glare at the boy with the long hair as he twirled on the ice, his laughter trailing behind him. No one could be that happy.

Sliding next to Victor, Yuuri kicked snow at him— trying to make the laughter stop. It was when Victor's head tilted back, his mouth turning a heart shape that he laughed even more.

"Yuri! You covered me in snow!" Victor giggled out, brushing snow off his shoulders and out his hair.

Rolling his eyes, Yuri went to go work his routine. He did not need some kid distracting him. He had had enough to deal with as it was.

Victor was everything Yuri was not. Light hearted, bubbly, energetic— exactly what the skating world wanted. He dressed himself up pretty and smiled for the cameras and his fans. Victor was the doey eyed youngster Yuri could not pull off. Yakov babied Victor more, bent more to his wishes. Whenever Yuri had an idea, Yakov cursed him out and sent him to skate laps.

Victor was everything Yuri hated in a person.

Fingers pushed into Victor's whining mouth. Yuri's lips turned up into a snarl. He had beaten Victor at the Grand Prix Finals— which only meant that Victor was bottoming tonight. He did not understand how Victor was still smiling, even though he had silver around his neck. Pushing his fingers further into Victor's mouth, Yuri smirked at the gagging sounds.

"Would have thought a pretty thing like you would be used to this," Yuri said, pushing his fingers in deeper.

Victor grabbed his wrist, pulling his fingers out his mouth. "Stop being mean!"

Growling, Yuri cupped his hand over where Victor was hard, his fingers tracing over the outline of his cock in his costume. "You like it when I am mean to you."

Victor pushed at Yuri, making him stumble back. This was so unlike him. Usually when Yuri was mean to him, it turned him on and things progressed— at least that was how it all started. Sitting on the bed, he watched Victor take his hair out of the high ponytail on his head, that silver hair cascading down his back.

"A deal is a deal," Yuri said, leaning back on the bed.

"Whatever," Victor said, undoing the zipper on his costume, walking by him and closing the bathroom door behind him.

"Fine! Fuck you, Victor!" Yuri said, pulling at his own costume. He should probably shower, but he did not care. Grabbing his phone, he texted to Otabek— but got no answer. Changing out of his costume, he stomped out the room in hopes of something better to do.

Yakov and Lilia were drinking down at the hotel bar— dismissing him almost immediately. He saw Otabek leaving out the hotel, calling out for him, Yuri chased him down.

"Yuri! Let's do a quad challenge!" Victor said, skating next to Yuri as practice was coming to an end.

"We have been skating a solid four hours! Are you crazy?"

Laughing, Victor grabbed Yuri's hand, and pulled him behind him. "Come on sour puss! You have been serious all day! Have some fun!"

Victor loved the ice. He would practice longer if Yakov would allow him. They did ballet in the morning and skating in the afternoon. They were forced a few hours to rest and eat then they had evening practice.

"Isn't it bad enough we bunk together? Now you want to hang out more?" Yuri growled behind him.

"We are skating for fun!" Victor sang out, pulling Yuri so his body swung out around him.

He could hear as Yuri growled, but as he let go of his hand, he skated ahead of him then launched into a quad toe.

"Yes, Yuri!" Victor cried out, happy that Yuri was loosening up around him. It had been a rocky last year. Coming to the Russian team, having Yuri hate him instantly. Victor was loving everyone on the team and how welcoming they were— it just took longer to get Yuri to warm up to him.

Victor was never one to quit. Even though Yuri was a cat person, he warmed up quickly to Makkachin. They were close to the same size, both waiting for their growth spurts to catch them, so offering to share clothes had put a light in Yuri's eyes he didn't see often.

Yuri was so different than him— he skated with anger and he was edgy.

Victor was light hearted, and bubbly. Many times during break he sat and allowed Mila and the girls to braid his hair and add flowers to it before they had to get back to practice. Yuri would sit on his phone ignoring them all.

"Ok! Who ever does the most clean quads get to make the loser do whatever they want!" Victor sang out as he took off across the ice, picking up speed and landing a perfect quad.

"You're on asshole!"

Skate Canada was an eye opener for Yuri. He just knew he would go in there and capture gold. So why the fuck was he standing holding a silver? Looking up, he saw why— Jean-Jacques Leroy was why.

Pissed was not even the word he could properly use to explain how he felt. He had poured his heart and soul on the ice. Lilia had set him up with a strong program for his free program and he used the opposite program Victor was using.

JJ just had more.

His base value still outdid his. His quads were always high and clean. It was a damn shame. After their mandatory pictures, Yuri threw his bouquet of flowers at Yakov and stormed off to his room. Checking his phone, he saw Victor had been texting him.

Victor - Call me once you get a chance!

Rolling his eyes, Yuri found him calling over to Victor.

"Yuri! I watched your program! You were so good!" Victor squeaked out on the phone.

"I got silver."

"You still did amazing!"

Hearing Victor tell him this did help calm down his anger. Yakov had only chastised him, telling him everything he did wrong. Lilia said he was beautiful but needed to work harder. Hearing someone saying he did well was what he needed.

"You better get ready for Skate America next week," Yuri growled into the phone.

"Oh you know I got this!" Victor squealed. "I am rocking that eros program too!"

Victor was always so sure of himself— but it was the opposite way Yuri was sure of himself. They both had confidence, but where Yuri was trying to prove his confidence to everyone— Victor's just came naturally.

"Don't be so sure of yourself."

"Oh you know I got this!" Victor said. "Just cheer me on from home and I'll skate my best for you!"

"Yakov! Are you crazy? Taking on more skaters for the seniors?" Lilia said as he poured herself another brandy.

"They are all talented. How can I not?"

Lilia pinched the bridge of her nose as Potya purred in her lap. Running her hands through the soft fur, she had to wonder how she came about having two teenagers under her roof.

"You are getting soft in your old age," Lilia said, sipping her brandy.

"Says the woman with one of my skater's cat in their lap and a dog at her feet."

Looking down, she had never seen a dog so large as Makkachin, but the dog was lovable and she found a soft spot for these two balls of fur.

"Are you really allowing Victor to the short programs?" Lilia asked.

"Da, didn't you see his choreography in juniors? Having Yuri and him skate opposing themes will be good for them both."

"It will draw them attention, this is true… though I have to say… they should have switched their themes around."

"You know Victor always does the opposite of what we ask him."

Lilia nodded, this was true. She thought Victor was more suited for the agape piece, but he was determined to skate to Eros. There was a huge fight with Yuri over the music and piece— but in the end, Victor wooed his way into what he wanted.

"I just hope you know what you are getting into," Lilia said before draining her glass. Having teenagers around was not easy work.

Yuri was pissed. Not only was he moving in with Lilia and Yakov, so was Victor. They would share a small room. Two small beds on each side of the room and two small desks with a shared closet. It made him wonder why he continued to do this, but then he remembered his grandpa and would sigh deeply.

Victor was over on his side of the room, hanging up a posters of the skater Yuuri Katsuki.

"That skater is nothing but nerves and falls," Yuri said, setting up his laptop.

"Have you seen his footwork? I can't take my eyes off of him!" Victor proclaimed, clutching his hands to his heart.

The last thing Yuri needed reminding of was the loser he screamed at not that long ago. How does one make it to the Grand Prix Finals, then go cry in the bathroom.

"I hear he is giving up skating," Yuri said.

"No! Didn't you see? Lambiel took him under his wing as his coach!" Victor squeaked out.

"What a waste of time," Yuri said, pulling his headphones on, ignoring the rest of the gushing Victor was liable to do over that fat pig. He was never sure what Victor saw in that pig anyways. He never landed his jumps and you could see his love handles as he skated. Skaters were meant to be fit and in top shape. How could Victor be so hung up over someone so plain?

Yuri even hated he found himself comparing the two of them.

He even found himself glaring at a poster one night, wondering what this guy had that he didn't? Maybe because he was older? Or the way the extra weight on him gave him soft curves? He hated himself for even wondering.

Victor was not sure why he had done it. Yuri had been screaming at him— but to be fair, Yuri always screamed at him.

It had been a rough week, Skate Canada and America behind them— Yuri and him both getting silver and both of them changing their programs to up the base scores. They pushed harder than usual and were more on edge. Yuri had bitched Victor used all the hot water and screamed at him over his long hair being the reason.

"I swear you will wake up to a bald head!" Yuri screamed.

"Never touch my hair!"

That was when Yuri reached out and grabbed a lock of his hair, pulling it. Victor gasped and grabbed Yuri's— returning the favor. It led to them both screaming and pulling each other's hair. Neither of them were letting up and when Victor went to knee Yuri in the stomach, they fell to the bed.

Their hands tangled in each other's hair as Yuri growled at him. Victor had the advantage with his knee in Yuri's stomach, pinning him to the bed. He hated fighting with Yuri, he really did. When Yuri let go of his hair, they pulled away and sat up.

The glare was out of Yuri's eyes— replaced with tears. Victor was scared he had hurt Yuri. Leaning in, he was very close to Yuri.

"What? Never seen anyone upset?" Yuri asked.

"I've never seen you cry."

Yuri went to push him. Victor grabbed his hands and pulled him to him. Crashing back on the bed, Yuri was on top of him and Victor only saw eyes filled with tears. Leaning up, he kissed Yuri. He was not sure why he did it, he just felt it was the right thing to do. Their lips brushed together and Victor could feel the wetness on Yuri's face as his lips trembled.

A gasp and Yuri jumped off the bed. He was left just laying there as Yuri stormed out the room. Touching his finger to his lips, Victor was not sure what had just happened—but his heart was racing and his mind spinning over it all. He couldn't take his fingers from his lips, remembering where they had just touched Yuri's. Where just moments ago he was so angry and mad, he was giddy and happy now.

Where the hell was Otabek? Yuri could not find him anywhere. He had not expected in Barcelona to meet someone like him. He was so use to Victor who rambled on nonstop about everything, but with Otabek it was a different air. Otabek was serious and more laid back. They had spent the day shopping and Yuri had ignored his phone— Victor had been texting him all day wondering where he was and what he was doing.

Sure, Yuri probably should have told him he would be out all day and that he was hanging out with Otabek— but it wasn't like him and Victor were a couple. Ok, sure, they had messed around and even joked about going all the way at the Grand Prix Finals, but nothing was defined. It was just a good way to blow off steam.

He had everyone looking for Otabek and they found out he was at a club in the city. Yuri wanted to get down there and find him. The music was loud and Yuri felt a pang of regret for leaving Victor back at the hotel room. Maybe he should have invited Victor with him?

It was when he was thrown on his ass on the sidewalk that Yuri decided maybe this was a bad idea. If Otabek had wanted to hang out with that night, he would have answered his text.

His phone buzzed in his pocket and Yuri stopped, leaning against a lamp post. There were a few messages from Victor. Sighing deeply, he sent a text saying he was headed to the ice and to bring their skates.

Hoping on the next bus, he took the ride across the city to the arena. Sure enough, Victor was there with their bags. Yuri was used to seeing a smile on his face, but his hair was down and shadow covered his expression.

"What are we doing?" Victor asked as he handed his bag to him.

"Making me a new exhibition program."

It was nice having someone in ballet class on his level. They were always in a room with girls and older skaters— he always felt out of place. Having Yuri with him now, as a friend, made life easier. He remembered when this all started, Yuri tried to outdo him in everything. Leaps across the rooms, dizzying spins till they both would fall over. Instead of being a force against each other, they used that energy to work together.

Thinking back from where they were to where they had come, it was nice having someone so close in age to him that understood.

Tying back his hair, his body needed a good stretch.

"Yuri, help me stretch?"

A quick nod as Yuri pulled his leg warmers up and jumped to his feet. No one had made it to the classroom yet, so they had time to stretch out real good. Laying on his back, he let Yuri grab his leg and push it till his foot was over his head, touching the floor.

"You're tight," Yuri grunted out, pushing his body down on his leg. "Let's warm up a bit first, then stretch."

Going through their positions, Victor had to envy how easy it all was to Yuri— or at least how easy he made it look. His body moved so effortlessly, though he always had his brow crinkled. With their bodies warmer, Victor laid back on the mat as Yuri pushed and pulled his limbs around. Changing positions, Victor was stretching out Yuri and listening to him complain over his hair.

"You could at least put it in a bun so it doesn't drape all over me!" Yuri bitched out, tugging a strand that was tickling at his face.

"Maybe I like when you pull it," Victor said, smirking back at Yuri.

"Gross!" Yuri said, pushing Victor off of him, then grabbing his hair. "Here, let me fix it."

Crossing his legs on the floor, Victor sat as he felt Yuri's fingers along his scalp, gathering his hair. Victor told himself it was a hassle to pull his hair in a bun— that it wasn't so Yuri would fix it for him.

The problem with sharing a room with Victor— long strands of hair seem to be everywhere. Between Makkachin, Poyta and Victor, Yuri felt his life was nothing but lint rollers and plucking stray hairs off of him.

"Seriously, Victor! Stay off my bed!" he growled out, pulling another strand off his comforter.

"Oh get off it! I have blonde hair on my bed!"

"You do not!"

"Do so! Come look!"

Yuri bounced up and stomped over where Victor was. Victor giggled and held up a golden strand of hair. Rolling his eyes he went to shrug it off— but Victor rose to his knees and planted a kiss on his lips.

After the other week and their fight— the air between them had changed. Yuri was not sure what it was, maybe with his break down, maybe that barrier was crossed— but he didn't push Victor away. It was on the next night they had kissed again—this time Yuri initiating it. Grabbing Victor by his shirt, pulling them together, their teeth knocking together. Victor giggled and hesitantly put his hand on Yuri's shoulder, and they tried again.

Neither was sure what to do, but their bodies seem to lead them through it. Lips slowly moving against the other till they pulled away. Victor's cheeks pink and he was sure his were too.

"You should smile more often," Victor said as his hand ran down his cheek.

Yuri rolled his eyes and went back to his side of the room.

They had spent many nights jerking off in their beds, hearing the other breath funny and the bed jerk. They never spoke about it, but the moment Yuri heard the small tiny gasp from the other side of the room, he would reach his hands under the blankets. After the first few times, they stopped even trying to be quiet about it. Wet sounds accompanied by small grunts and gasp. Yuri would never admit it, but he always waited for Victor to start first, then he joined in. It was a small shared secret they had at night in their small little room.

"You planted that there," Yuri said before sitting on the edge of Victor's bed.

"So what if I did?" Victor asked, pulling out a brush, running it through Yuri's hair.

"Could have just called me over."

"This was more fun!" Victor giggled out, pushing his hair off his neck and kissing the exposed skin.

It was a weak spot for Yuri— they had both learned, and Victor took advantage of kissing Yuri on his neck. A low moan and Yuri turned, pushing Victor down on the bed. There was an innocence to Victor as his hair fanned out around him, the way he bit his lip, and how his eyes looked up at him. Holding his wrist down, Yuri liked feeling like he was in control. Victor liked to give it over.

Noisy, wet kisses shared— bodies rutting against each other. It was close to bedtime and Yuri preferred getting off this way than jerking himself under the covers.

"Asshole! Get out of my way!" Yuri yelled as he skated very close to Victor right as Victor landed his axle.

"Yuri! Share the ice!" Yakov screamed out.

Yakov had told them they would be moving in with Lilia for the season. Yuri was pissed and took it out on Victor. He wanted nothing to do with him. His stupid hair, his stupid beautiful face— he hated him. He was suppose to the be star! Not this doey eyed, baby faced, long haired freak.

Picking up speed, Yuri skated towards Victor again, jumping into a triple and landing right next to Victor, only as he landed, they both tumbled down.

"Yuri!" Yakov screamed.

Both boys groaned as they hit the ice.

"Are you ok?" Victor asked.

The asshole was even nice. Here he was, being a jerk, and Victor was concerned about him. Maybe he was the one being an idiot.

"Yeah… sorry about that," Yuri said, lifting back up and skating off. Yakov was yelling for him and as he approached him, his bellowing yell echoed off the walls.

"I will take you out of this as fast as I put you in this!"

He knew he had fucked up—big time. He saw Victor standing on the side of next to the wall as Mila hugged him and petted at his hair. Yakov continued to yell at him as Yuri looked across the ice, seeing a tear fall down Victor's cheek. For some reason, that made him feel far worse than anything Yakov could have said

"There is no way you can change up your exhibition skate!" Victor squeaked out as they got entrance into the arena.

Yuri was lucky the guard was young and smiled at them both. They smiled sweetly and wooed their way in.

"Yes I can and I will! Now are you going to help me?" Yuri asked.

"Only if you apologize," Victor said, crossing his arms, standing his ground.

"Apologize for what?"

Victor gave Yuri a stern look, he was not budging. Rolling his eyes, Yuri sighed and leaned against the wall—both boys staring the other down.

"What am I even apologizing for?"

"You know why!" Victor hissed out.

Yuri knew he had been an ass, but he was always an ass. He figured after all this time that Victor would have been used to it, but he also knew Victor was more sensitive "Ok, fine… sorry for being an ass in the hotel room."

Victor squint his eyes at Yuri. "That I am use to from you."

"Then what is it? Look, we don't have all night and I need a new routine."

Victor's head dropped and he looked away from Yuri. "Then you better start thinking harder."

Rostelecom was a mass of energy that swirled around them. Yuri was running off with his grandpa for a bit and Victor decided to get in some extra practice time. He saw a handful of skaters from other countries he was slowly getting to know and remembered from Juniors, but it was all still overwhelming.

It was weird not having Yuri around him. He had gotten so use to him just being there. Their schedules very similar between practice and free time. It was probably better that he went and hid in his room anyway.

Pushing the button to the elevator, he felt a presence step next to him. Turning around, he saw Yuuri Katsuki standing there, casually holding his bag. Gasping, Victor fumbled and almost fell over, his bag tumbling to the ground.

"Oh! Let me help you," Yuuri said, bending down to get the bag and help Victor. He felt frozen in place and Yuuri slid his bag strap up on his shoulder.

"You are Nikiforov, right?" Yuuri asked. "Your short program is really good."

Victor wished he could say something, but his mouth was dry and his heart was pounding. Even when he stepped on the elevator, he was surprised he remember which floor he was supposed to. There was a warmth to Yuuri's eyes as he smiled at him on the elevator. As the elevator dinged the floor, Yuuri smiled sweetly at him. "Good luck this weekend." Then stepped out.

Victor took a deep breath and melted to the back wall of the elevator as the doors closed. It was moments like this he wished Yuri was there so he could gush and squeal over it. Pulling out his phone, he would just have to call him and tell him all about it.

"I have no idea what you even see in him anyway," Yuri mumbled as he gently stroked the black polish over Victor's finger. It amused Yuri how Victor was the soft one, but wore the dark colored polishes all the time. He was sure if he did it, Yakov would throw a fit.

"He is beautiful," Victor dreamily sighed out.

They were sitting on Victor's side of the room, posters of Yuuri Katsuki covering his half of the room. At first Yuri was creeped out by it, but after time—it grew on him. He even had to admit, Katsuki had a nice ass.

"He fails his jumps... and he got fat last year," Yuri grumbled.

"But his footwork is to die for! I can't take my eyes off of him when he skates!" Victor giggled out, "Plus… I like a little weight on him, makes him look soft."

"Gross!"

Victor giggled as Yuri finished his nails and laid back on his pillows, blowing on the wet polish. "Toes!"

Yuri pinched a toe wiggling at him before dipping the brush back in the bottle and painting his toes. Every now and then he would tickle the bottom of Victor's foot just to hear him squeal out in laughter.

"I'm glad you stopped hating me," Victor said.

"What makes you think this?" Yuri asked, swiping more polish across the last of Victor's toes.

"Well you stopped growling at me for one!"

"I growl at everyone."

"You don't jump in front of me on the ice anymore."

"Yakov yelled at me too bad."

"I like you."

Yuri stopped what he was doing— there was one toe left. What did that mean?

"Um…"

"You know… like I like you," Victor stammered. "I am glad we are friends."

Yuri could feel his cheeks getting warm, why the hell was he blushing? "Don't get all sentimental on me. What you like is that Japanese piggy."

Victor giggled. "Yeah, I really do."

Victor got that far off expression and Yuri rolled his eyes while painting the last of his toes.

Victor knew he was running late and ran as hard as his legs would carry him. Once he approached the alley where they were to meet, he saw the back end of Yuri on a motorbike—taking off in the opposite direction.

He had tucked his hair into a hat to be less noticeable out and about—and he was glad he did. Surrounded by Yuri's Angles, they were snapping pictures and squealing over what had just happen.

"Who was that?" Victor asked.

"That was Otabek Altin!" one of the girls screamed.

Victor never did hear from Yuri all day. It was late evening when Yuri came skipping into their room and falling on his bed, laying his head in his lap. He looked happy and Victor had to smile down at him.

It was hard being happy for your friend, but jealous at the same time.

"Victor! It was great! Otabek took me everywhere around the city and then we went to have dinner!"

Victor had never heard Yuri speak so enthusiast before. It dug at something inside of him. They were supposed to have gone out that day, they were supposed to have dinner with all the skaters. But he had been forgotten—left behind. Forcing a smile on his face, Victor knew he should be happy for his friend and listen as Yuri went on and on over how cool Otabek was.

It was not long before Yuri was curl up next to Victor, his hands tangled in his long hair and all was quiet.

If Yuri thought Otabek was so cool, why was he still curled up next to him then? Why didn't he go run off with Otabek?

Victor let jealousy get the best of him. Flipping Yuri over, he straddled him and started to kiss Yuri deeply. Small moans filling the room instantly as their hard needy bodies pressed against one another. He loved how Yuri would gently bite his lip and pull his hair. This was the Grand Prix Finals and they were finally going to go all the way. Yuri didn't need some boy on a motorbike. Not when he had him. Rolling his hips again, he wanted to remind Yuri what was right in front of him this entire time.

Exhibitions skates aside, medals handed out—another season come and gone. Yuri had been blasted out by Yakov and Lilia for his stunt on the ice. Minutes before it was time for his skate, he turned to Otabek, "Hey! At the cue! Come out to the ice… but just stand on the side, Ok?"

Otabek nodded his head.

Looking out on the ice, Yuri watched as Victor skated an old skate by Yuuri Katsuki. Of all the things he could have come up with or done, he picked one of Yuuri's first routines. He did not understand what Victor saw in Yuuri. Sure, his footwork was amazing, and he had to admit he did have a nice ass. He also wasn't all that bad looking with his hair pushed back. Maybe he was missing something, he couldn't put his finger on it.

This year had done Yuuri good though. With his new coach—he had a solid performance and managed to grab the bronze. Yuri thought Victor was going to faint when all three of them shared the podium. He hated to admit it, but Victor looked amazing in his costume with his hair high on his head and a blue rose crown adorned his head.

"Your friend is really good," Otabek said.

"Yeah but I am better."

He had admit, Victor looked happy as he skated.

It was well known the banquets could easily get out hand. Yuri and Victor were able to sneak more than enough glasses of champagne to be on the verge of drunk. Victor was hanging on Yuri, his hair a mess all around him. Somehow his finger was twirling at Victor's hair as they watched everyone around them dance and laugh.

"Oh wow!" Victor breathed out.

Turning his head, Yuri saw where Chris and Yuuri were dancing provocatively against each other. Both of them with their shirts unbuttoned and ties tied around their head.

"I bet you wish you were Chris," Yuri whispered, twirling Victor's long hair around his figure again.

Victor wrapped his arms around Yuri's waist, laying his head on his shoulder. "Oh you know it! Maybe I should go out there!"

"How much have you had to drink?"

Victor giggled. "The same amount you have!"

That meant Victor was about as drunk as he was. He was not sure if Victor was hugging him or just holding himself up. Their heads were fuzzy and their bodies drunk. All the other skaters were dancing and cheering on Yuuri and Chris as they continued to strip down and swing around a pole.

Yuri could have sworn Victor was drooling at this point. He had never seen two people pole dance—especially at the banquet.

Somehow Victor had managed to grab more champagne for them. Even leaning against the wall, standing upright was hard. Their suit jackets were long gone and their ties partly undone.

"This is my chance!" Victor said to Yuri.

"What?"

"My chance!"

"What are you going on on about? Do you want to leave or something?" They still had their deal to follow through with, Yuri did not want to admit he was looking forward to it. The idea of Victor under him and them finally having sex, rushed a thrill through his body.

Yuri watched as Victor stumbled across the floor and made his way over where Yuuri was putting his clothes back on. Chris and Yuuri laughing loudly as they pulled their shirts back on. It was that moment Victor had stumbled and fell into Yuuri.

"Be my coach, Yuuri! Be my coach!"