Viktor Nikiforov was someone who lived to continuously rise above the occasion and surprise the world with his skating ability. It was something he has done for two years now, as proven by the numerous gold medals decorating his flat right now. Reporters have asked what his ultimate goal for skating is, and he had always typically answered to be the very best. However, that was not necessarily true. There was someone waiting at the top, and he did not intend to keep him waiting for much longer.

Unfortunately, it seemed like Yuuri Katsuki felt he waited long enough.

"Oi! Viktor! We're heading out dinner together. Grab your stuff, and let's go!" Yuri yelled. Viktor didn't bother to acknowledge him. Instead, he chose to ignore his junior and skate lazily around the rink. He sighed dramatically for an added effect. If he ignored Yuri long enough, the boy will eventually leave.

"Oh just leave him be Yura. He hasn't been the same after Sochi, and now that Yuuri Katuski is retiring, you can't really expect him to bounce right back up," Mila explained, her tone light but laced with concern. He could always count on Mila for being understanding. All he wanted to do was sink back into his bed after practice and watch a couple more hours of Yuuri Katsuki's skating. Was that so much to ask?

"What does he even see in that pig anyways? I mean, his step sequences are decent enough, but that last performance was horrible! Are you telling me that an idiot like that can take the title of "Living Legend?" Yuri scoffed. "If you ask me, all the guy was good for was being a placeholder for when a real legend comes to the scene."

"He just had some nerves," Viktor insisted, finally turning his back to face the younger skater.

"We all have nerves Viktor," Yuri objected. "How we deal with stress and pressure is the difference between graphite and diamonds."

Viktor hadn't even realized he was skating towards Yuri until he was pinching the boy's face tightly in his hands. To Yuri's respect, he wasn't quivering at the sight of an angry Viktor. It was hard to get Viktor like this, but once he was angered, very few things can calm his temper. Before anything could erupt, Yuri swatted his hand away and grunted. Viktor didn't bother hide his smirk: it looked like Yuri had the decency to at least look disturbed.

"Let's go Mila. We'll leave you and your heartbreak to yourself," Yuri finished lamely and left without another word. Mila looked at both of them with a face of conflict. Her look of concern for Viktor was sweet, but this was a pain he wanted to face alone. Viktor shooed her playfully and smiled back when she waved farewell. Viktor waited for the thundering boom of the rink doors closing before he exhaled a breath he wasn't aware he was holding. He skated back to the center to the ice and came back to his previous thoughts.

"Yuuri Katsuki," he muttered under his breath and lazily skated around the rink.

The announcement came out a week ago, and Viktor wasn't the same since. He wasn't the same since Sochi, but announcement that Yuuri Katsuki would not be returning to the ice skating scene this year was enough to keep Viktor bedridden for at least three days. It was only at Yakov's insistence that he made it to the rink after day four. The mood at the rink noticeably soured though as Viktor's usual good mood had disappeared with Yuuri Katsuki's skating career.

Viktor cursed himself: if only he wasn't such an idiot during Sochi. A photo? Of course, why would Living Legend Yuuri Katsuki want a photo with him? Especially after coming sixth place? Viktor leapt in the air for a triple axel, Yuuri's favorite jump, and sighed.

Where had it all gone wrong?

The Sochi Grand Prix was culmination of the better part of twenty years of training, fruitless prayers, and old fashioned luck. Viktor Nikiforov had taken the skating world by storm with being the first athlete to perform a quadruple flip and breaking his personal skating records countless times in the last few years. Of course, it was only last year that he broke the record of the famous skater, Yuuri Katsuki.

A black sheep from Japan, Yuuri Katsuki was a gifted skater with the ability to make music with his performances. According to Viktor, who was normally right with these kinds of things, his step sequences were near god-like and his jumps were phenomenal. Not to mention his unlimited stamina, Yuuri Katsuki was at a level that Viktor could only dream of attaining.

Viktor wasn't ashamed to admit that he had fallen in love with Yuuri when he was starting out. He watched one of his first performances on the television at his local rink and loved how his hair flowed, and his body moved majestically with the music. It was like watching art being made. It was after that day that Viktor decided he wanted to be a world famous figure skater. After making his name known in juniors, Viktor eagerly rose in the ranks of the senior division to one day skate with his idol. It took a lot of time and pleny of good luck charms and prayers to get in the same pool as Yuuri, but he was finally able to do it last year at Sochi.

The competition was looking very tough, but it was something Viktor was used to. Years of tournaments have prepared him for that. His confidence shined as he winked at the cameras. His skill peaked at the Free Skate performance. Viktor finished first – his second Grand Prix gold medal. The moment couldn't have been more perfect for him.

Yuuri Katsuki had finished dead last with the lowest score of his career.

News outlets criticized his form – saying the skater must be reaching the age where his body was beginning to fail him. Former skaters were cited that Yuuri was no longer the legend he used to be. They criticized his wrinkles and dying stamina and theorized whether or not Yuuri had suffered a major injury during practice. A blog Viktor used to follow even said that they saw gray hairs peeking out during his performance.

Everyone seemed convinced that Yuuri Katsuki was dead. However, no one other than him seem to notice the music flowing from Yuuri's body.

After the competition, Viktor hadn't cared that Yuuri wasn't in best form. Everyone had rough days. It was just bad luck that Yuuri's landed on the Grand Prix. Regardless, Viktor was riding a high from his victory and the fact that he was within fifteen feet of THE Yuri Katsuki, and he kind of needed a photo with his idol that he may or may not have been crushing on for some time now. Weeks after confrontation, and Viktor could still remember Yuuri's exact expression of dread and pain.

"A commemorative photo Viktor? He must think that you're a bigger asshole than that JJ guy," Viktor muttered to himself and stopped himself in the middle of the rink. He rubbed his face and tried to think things through.

All Viktor wanted in his life was the chance to skate on the same ice as his idol – the person who inspired him to be who he was today. Someone who didn't care if he won gold, silver, or bronze, but instead wanted to show the world the beauty of ice skating. His journey to the top was lonely, but he knew that the end had at least one person waiting for him.

"And then I just had to rub salt in the wound, didn't I. What does Yakov always say? 'Don't get too ahead of yourself Vitya. You're just going to shoot yourself in the foot Vitya. What the hell does that Katsuki kid had that you don't Vitya. Don't meet your heroes Vitya. Always listen to me Vitya.' Ugh, the one time you don't listen to Yakov, am I right?" Viktor groaned as he skated to the edge of the rink and sighed.

He was getting tired of all this mopping and groaning. It was a mistake, sure, but he was only human. He combed his fingers through his hair and took a deep breath. He needed to skate, and there was only one routine that seemed to fit how he felt right now. Viktor skated one more lap in preparation of what he was going to do.

He wasn't embarrassed to say that after its debut at Skate America, all of Viktor's free time has been dedicated to perfectly replicating this performance. If anything, it motivated Viktor to come to practice and actually enjoy Yakov yelling at him. It had been a few months in the making, but Viktor is confident that he thinks he has finally mastered it.

Skating to the center of the rink, Viktor took a deep breath and prepared himself. He raised his arm high and took a moment of silence.

"In memoriam of my idol, Yuuri Katsuki," Viktor announced to his invisible audience and fell into his performance.

There were no words Viktor had in his vocabulary that could accurately describe the music that Yuuri Katsuki skated. The man could probably do an entire routine in silence, and Viktor could probably still hear the song the routine was supposed to go to. Even now as he skated in the silent rink, Viktor could still hear the drums and strings that were supposed to accompany the piece.

From what Viktor could perceive, the performance was a story of two people stuck in the middle of a seemingly endless war. Although the two did everything they could to stay together, the war eventually pulled them apart. The two of them spent their final day together, promising that they will one day be reunited and would spend the rest of their life together. The performance then followed the story of the reluctant soldier, giving the war everything the person had and allowing the war to take what it wanted. Eventually, the war had ended, and the person returned. However, the war-torn soldier was not the same person who left: too much had been taken from him, and the person was not enough to fill the gaps. They embraced for the first time in years, but the soldier push them aside and walked away alone. The story ended with the perspective suddenly changing to the person who has waited all these years only to be rejected, crying out. The war might have taken too much out from the soldier, but the soldier had taken the other part of the person's soul with him.

Finishing the performance with a flawless combination spin, Viktor reached his arm forward in a final attempt to reclaim what he was waiting for: to get back to get the other half of his sould back and be happy again. He lurched forward, and fell to the ice as the soldier disappeared from sight. He held the pose for a moment as the song in his head faded and fell onto the ice.

Yuuri's stamina was like no other. How did the man not want to die after a performance like that?

Viktor smiled. Of course, he was Yuuri Katsuki after all.

"That… That was brilliant Viktor!" a voice cried out. Viktor immediately picked himself up.

"Georgi?" he asked, unsure why the skater had stayed behind for so long. He saw the rather red handprint on Georgi's face and flinched.

Georgi quickly wiped away a tear and blew into a tissue. "Your love for Yuuri Katsuki was just so beautiful and strong that you must have felt bewitched to skate his newest performance in his honor. It reminds me of my newest routine that I am planning that will be dedicated to Anna," Georgi commented, his eye lighting up in hope as he caressed his cheek. Viktor smiled and breathed a breath of relief. At least one of them still had hope for love in his world.

"I'm hoping that if she sees it, she'll return back to me," Georgi explained, and twirled around in glee. Viktor smiled. Between the two of them, Georgi was definitely the worse love-sick fool than he was. But if Georgi of all people could get through a bad break up and still come out this optimistic, Viktor could at least get through his crush leaving him alone on the ice. Maybe.

Viktor skated to the edge of the rink and listened endearingly to another one of Georgi's "wonderful" times with Anna. He lucked out – at least the Ferris Wheel story was only five minutes instead of the usual twenty. Viktor nodded and smiled and even gave a small chuckle at the appropriate spots, but he had heard the story so many times that he completely zoned out. He hadn't even realized the story was over until Georgi was shaking Viktor's shoulder, looking like he was asking for Viktor's approval. What for, he didn't know, but Viktor just smiled and nodded.

"I wish you the best of luck," Viktor smiled, gave a wink, and walked toward the locker room.

"Do not worry Viktor! I have it all under control. We'll both get through this together!," Georgi assured. Viktor smiled. While some of his rinkmates might see Georgi's desperation for love in his life as annoying, Viktor found it at the very least endearing. The fact that someone else out there believed in true love as strongly as Viktor was probably a good sign that the world was still spinning like it was supposed to.

Viktor paused as he was about to leave the rink. The world was still spinning. People walked. Children played. Yuuri Katsuki had retired.

Viktor was still alone.

And everything was going to be okay.

Viktor pushed the doors and made his way to the apartment.

His flat was personally furnished by his mother. The artwork was provided by his father. The numerous books he had around were his own personal touch. Viktor liked to think Makkachin's way of throwing her toys around the room to ensure Viktor tripped over them the following morning was her way of making her mark on the flat. As Viktor unlocked the door and breathed in the too stagnant air, he wondered at what point was this flat supposed to finally feel like home.

"Makkachin!" Viktor called out, squatting down to greet his over-excited poodle. He was eternally glad that his parents had allowed him to bring his poodle back from home. He wasn't sure he would survive all alone is this far too large flat. Taking a moment to appreciate his friend, Viktor stood up and walked to the kitchen to start dinner.

As he cooked, Viktor wondered how his rinkmates were faring appeasing to the youngest of their group. He knew from experience that Yuri was a picky eater and would probably drive the group all around St. Petersburg just to find a place that suited his tastes. He chuckled as his rinkmates probably didn't know that Yuri could be sated with anything with meat. It's just forcing the kid to actually sit down and eat that was the difficult part.

His phone vibrated on the counter away from him, and he smiled. According to his estimates and the time it took before an SOS was sent to him, it was probably Mila. Putting the stove onto low, he placed the lid over the pot and reached to grab his phone. Makkachin whined beside him.

"I wonder how far Yuri has driven them this time," Viktor chuckled. The last time he went out with his rinkmates, Yuri insisted that the best restaurant in the city was this hole in the wall that apparently went out of business three months ago, but Yuri insisted that it was still there. They drove around for hours looking for it before one of them got fed up and decided that they were going to host the group for dinner.

He was so excited at the prospect of a home cooked meal that Viktor promised Yuri to work with him personally the next day if he would just shut up about the restaurant. The team cheered at Viktor's brilliance and all drove to Mila's house for dinner. Viktor couldn't help but smile as he remembered the night fondly. He hadn't return home until late that night, but in the rare moment of happiness, Viktor couldn't bring himself to care. His walk through memory lane seemed to be cut short as Makkachin whined again.

"Don't worry. I haven't forgotten to lower the heat this time," Viktor smiled but Makkachin didn't seem to be satisfied. Viktor watched curiously as Makkachin stood up and walked behind Viktor to start pushing him out of the kitchen.

"Do you want to go on a walk? But what about dinner?" he asked as he followed his dog's wishes. Makkachin barked at him as he talked but kept pushing. Once Viktor was thoroughly out of the kitchen, Makkachin sat stubbornly at the doorway staring at the entrance of his flat. Viktor followed his line of sight and sighed when he made a connection. He walked past his poodle and pat his head.

"Since when has everyone been so concern about my social life? I'm the poster boy of Russian night life," Viktor muttered and leaned against the counter. Makkachin began whining again and stubbornly laid flat on the floor. Viktor laughed and bent down to console the worried dog.

"Alright, alright. If my own dog wants me out of my flat, I promise to leave at the next invitation to hang out with friends," Viktor assured. "Forgive me Makkachin. This week, wasn't very good." Makkachin huffed but seemed satisfied with his answer. He rolled over to give Viktor a little more walking room and exhaled a deep breath. Viktor smiled endearingly and unlocked his phone.

He scrolled to see that he actually was being texted by multiple people and not to mention that apparently hundreds of notifications on social media. He scrunched his eyes and opened the most recent text from Mila (who was by the way the one to text at 7:27 PM).

If I knew you were this hung up about him, I would have kept bugging you this time!

Viktor's mind went back to Yuuri Katsuki, and then to unfortunately Georgi. He immediately opened up Twitter and gasped.

"Viktor Nikiforov skates Yuuri Katsuki's 2015 FS Performance" Viktor repeated. He immediately played the video and cringed when the first words out of his mouth were "In memoriam of my idol, Yuuri Katsuki." The views were slowly climbing into the millions as people outside of the skating community were watching the video. He scrolled through comments that varied from "Classic Nikiforov" to "OMG my ovaries just exploded." Many people on his feed seem to be commenting that this was how the performance was supposed to look, and that Viktor had gracefully and truly taken the title of "Living Legend" from Katsuki.

His phone vibrated again as it received a text from Yuri.

You look out of breath old man.

Viktor pinched his nose. He was debating on whether or not it was worth having a texting war with a f

Don't forget about my routine. Yuri added a moment later, but Viktor chose to ignore it for the moment. Right now, it wasn't time to focus on what Viktor was supposed to be doing. The world was waiting for Viktor Nikiforov to make a statement. Why would Viktor Nikiforov be interested in Black Sheep Yuuri Katsuki who placed last in the most recent Grand Prix?

After a moment's thought, he opened Twitter again and quickly typed down his initial thoughts, deleted it, and thought about what people wouldn't expect Viktor Nikiforov to say. Viktor Nikiforov who lived to surprise his fans and audience. Viktor Nikiforov who wasn't a love sick fool and wasn't mourning the loss of his idol. The Viktor who wasn't Viktor. He bit his lip and typed in English.

1992 How did I do coach? ;)

It was flirty and arrogant. It was almost a challenge to Yuuri to emerge from retirement and take back his title from him. Viktor's heart did a flip at that implication. To be chased by the one and only Yuuri Katsuki, and inspiring him as he did to Viktor for so many years. For Nikiforov, the tweet was simple and sweet and worked well with his playful nature. For Viktor, it was a last ditch effort to keep his world spinning.

Viktor's attention shifted as the pot began boiling over. He immediately turned off his phone and rushed over to save dinner.

He grimaced as he thought about the press that would be gathering around the rink again tomorrow. Yakov already hated working with the press, and given the fact that they would mostly be asking questions about Viktor's personal life, Yakov is going to make sure tomorrow is a personal hell. He gave a silent prayer to be gifted with Yuuri's stamina tomorrow.

Ensuring that the soup was saved, he turned off the stove and began to set the table. His eyes brightened as he looked outside.

"It's snowing!" he announced and smiled.

Despite everything that had happened so far, everything was still okay. Viktor looked over to the table, set for one. He glanced at the multitude of books that he has read at least once. He filled Makkachin's bowl of food and looked outside his window once more. Children were already outside playing in the freshly laid snow much to their parent's cries. Couples were walk pass – both old and young. Viktor turned on his radio and shuffled his library.

He sat himself down and smiled.

Everything was still okay.

"One more time Viktor! If you want to do a quad axel for that Katsuki kid, then you better do it perfectly!" Yakov yelled. Viktor nodded and skated to the other side of the rink. It was getting late, but Yakov decided that since the press wanted to waste so much of his time with interviews, Viktor should be grateful that Yakov was willing to stay a few extra hours past his normal hours.

The rest of his rinkmates have long past left the ice to enjoy another night out. Viktor even considered asking Yakov if he could join them to escape training. It was a sad day when even your coach knows you didn't have much of a social life.

"Excellent," Yakov commented as Viktor cleanly landed the quad. He beckoned for Viktor to meet him at the edge of the rink. Viktor didn't like where this was going.

"Vitya, about this next skating season," Yakov began, but Viktor interrupted him.

"I have already picked out my music and working on the choreography. I should have something to show you by the end of this week," Viktor assured.

"As expected. Have you given your thought to your theme this year?" Yakov asked. "With all the press swarming around, I was surprised that they didn't try to get a sneak peek for this upcoming season."

"Ah, you overestimate how interested the world is with my skating rather than my personal life," Viktor joked. Yakov only grunted and turned around.

"Go get drunk Vitya. I'm tired of seeing you mourn over that Katuski kid. He was a good skater, but even legends have to die. I'll see you tomorrow morning," Yakov waved farewell and left Viktor alone with his thoughts. Viktor smiled. For as much as people pinned Yakov as a hardass, he was actually quite sweet when he wanted to be.

Viktor was prepared himself for just another round of drills when his phone rang.

"Hello?" Viktor asked, wondering what was so dire that someone felt the need to call him.

"Viktor! You need to come over to the bar next on Bely Kuna. There's something you need to see!" Mila yelled over the phone.

"Mila, I'm an old man now. I probably don't even like the band they're playing," Viktor joked and he moved the phone a few inches from his ear.

"Vitya, you need to see this. Please. If you don't, I'm going to send Georgi over there to grab you," Mila threatened. Viktor did the math. Bely Kuna was about a fifteen-minute drive from the rink. That meant fifteen minutes listening to how beautiful this Anna woman was as Georgi haphazardly drove on ice roads and possibly try to kill Viktor for still finding hope in true love.

"I'll be right there," Viktor answered and packed his skates. If he took the metro from his flat, he could probably reach everyone before Georgi got too drunk to tell everyone where it all started to go wrong. If he ran, he could probably make it and leave politely before it got to that stage.

Viktor ran like there was no tomorrow.

The bar was one of the nicer ones in the group frequented. Since Yuri had left early to study for an exam tomorrow, the group was free to enjoy the night for once. Viktor took a deep breath before he opened the doors. Putting on a smile, he walked in.

He was not prepared for the sight in front of him. A part of his mind wondered when the bar installed poles onto their stage.

"Viktor! You made it!" Mila greeted as she drunkenly wrapped an arm around him. Viktor couldn't form words as he was still processing what he was seeing.

"What a surprise right? Apparently he was here since opening looking like a nervous mess. The bartender took pity on him and gave him a few shots on the house. Well, a few turned into at least 6, and he told everyone that if anyone could beat him in a dance-off, he would pay for their drinks the rest of the night," Mila explained and leaned into Viktor's ear, "So far, he's unbeatable."

Viktor blinked and was sure for a moment that he was going to open his eyes and there was going to be Makkachin in front of him because this surely had to be a dream. When he opened his eyes, there was no Makkachin. Instead, reaching towards him, was Yuuri Katsuki, half-naked, pole dancing with possibly the ugliest tie wrapped around his head.

"Go get 'em tiger," Mila encouraged and pushed Viktor forward.

Since the failure of the photo, Viktor had thought long and hard about what he should have said instead. Not one of these situations involved facing his idol, who was obviously drunk off his ass, reaching over to gently caress his face and smiling when Viktor blushed in response.

"You look familiar," Yuuri smiled and jumped off the pole to shakily stand. "I know! You must be Viktor NIkiforov, right?"

Oh god, Yuuri Katsuki knew his name and he said it so happily. Viktor thought he was actually going to die right here and now.

"Y-Yes," Viktor stuttered, unsure how to approach this situation. Fortunately, Yuuri seemed like he did. Yuuri smiled with closed eyes and then leapt onto Viktor with his full weight. It was only years of dog training that allowed Viktor to keep his balance.

"Oh Viktor! I saw that video you posted when I was at my parent's house in Hatsetsu. We have a really nice hot springs there that you should totally visit sometime, but that video was so nice that I couldn't wait for you to come over, so I came over instead!" Yuuri explained, his hips bucking into Viktor's. He glanced over to his rinkmates who were all taking video evidence that this was actually happening.

"You saw the video then?" Viktor asked as he tried to pry Yuuri off of him.

"Of course! I've seen all of your performances you know, but that one, I loved that one," Yuuri whispered into his ear, suggesting something much lewder than figure skating.

"Is that so?" Viktor purred, hoping that playing along would mean Yuuri would be more willing to have this conversation at a table. He reached over to push aside a tuff of hair from Yuuri's face.

"Yup! Oh, but when you tweeted at me on how you did like I was your coach, everyone back home told me to come here. So I did! Hey!" Viktor's heart dropped at the light that gleamed in Yuuri's eyes. "Let's have a dance-off Viktor. You and me! If I win, then you'll let me be your coach okay? Let me be your coach Viktor!" Yuuri laughed and threw himself at Viktor once more.

Viktor couldn't help the gasp that escaped his lips. He looked over his rinkmates again who were all looking at him like Yuuri suggested he retire – a few smug faces but mostly looks of surprise and eagerness. Mila gave a thumbs up in support. Georgi was already talking to the DJ for music choices.

Viktor looked at the man currently trying the bury himself into his chest. This was the same man who skated as if music was constantly playing around. This was the same man who inspired Viktor to be the person he was today. Yuuri Katsuki, the Living Legend, was half-naked and just challenged him to a dance-off to be his coach.

"Do you know the flamenco?" Viktor asked. Yuuri, with an odd clarity showing in his eyes, nodded with a smirk.

"Do I?" he asked and stood aside.

The music played. People watched and cheered. At some point, Viktor was being dipped and thrown around the stage. At some point, Viktor even began laughing, and Yuuri had joined in.

It felt as if the world had stopped spinning for a moment. Yuuri Katsuki was here in his arms. Viktor was smiling.

Everything was the opposite of what it was supposed to be, but at the same time, everything was still okay.

A/N: Thank you for reading!