warning(s): none.

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Changing For the Better

Yuri! On Ice © Kubo Mitsurou

This is a work of fanfiction, simply written for the purpose of enjoyment and entertainment. I gain no financial profit from writing this.


"How selfish."

"You're so... indifferent, huh? You don't seem to care about anything that doesn't interest you."

"Eh? We competed against each other in Grand Prix two years ago. You don't even remember me?"

"Why do you keep forgetting your promises?"

.

.

"He never thinks of anybody but himself! Someone like that can never be anyone's coach!"


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Victor groaned.

His back's sore.

He slowly opened his eyes, blinking a few times before finally getting better sight of his surroundings. He narrowed his eyebrows, it's blinding.

Huh? Where am I?

It was soon answered when he heard the sound of faint snoring close to his ear and the constant up and down from his pillow. He was on a flight to China. It had been forever since he took his flight in a cramped economy class, so that explained the soreness from his back.

He sat up straight and stretched his limbs, yawning. Ah, that felt a lot better.

"―k cutlet bowl..."

Victor turned to his side―to the source of the weak mumble. The tips of his lips curled up into a smile, he laughed quietly.

Yuuri's eyebrows were knitted together while he kept mumbling incoherent words. Victor wondered if Yuuri's uncomfortable because he literally used Yuuri as his pillow for who-knew-how-long or Yuuri was simply dreaming about his eros which he hadn't tasted in months.

Yuuri's glasses almost slipped off from his nose, so Victor took them off and put them away. Now that Victor thought about it, this was the first time he had seen Yuuri's sleeping face. Did he always have this kind of troubled expression when asleep?

How adorable, he thought.

He leant on Yuuri again, closing his eyes―he pulled their blanket to cover them both.

He liked the fuzzy feeling he got when he's cuddled up close with Yuuri. As if he could finally relax from everything, breathing as Victor Nikiforov and no one else. The faint sound of Yuuri's breath, the warmth from being too close―everything was calming. The way Yuuri's hair brushed against his own gave Victor a sense of comfort. And even Yuuri's scent tickled his nose to become his personal favourite aromatherapy.

He opened his eyes slightly, since when, he wondered.

The dream he had before... was not exactly a dream. Those were things that had happened in the past.

Selfish.

Indifferent.

He's tired of hearing those things about him―so tired he might not care anymore. He used to be affected by those comments―trying his best to care more about people around him, paying more attention to his surroundings. But those things were too much work for him.

Those things were simply not meant for him. He's exhausted of being someone he's not.

So he just stopped caring, going with his own pace. Even when his world only consisted of Victor Nikiforov, Maccachin and skating, it's better than putting on a persona. He's not lonely.

That's what he thought at first.

But on the rink, he's alone.

"Ng... Victor... my shoulder is cramped."

"Ah," Victor moved away, "Sorry. Are you awake?"

"Still sleepy," Yuuri yawned and shifted his sleeping position. He rubbed his eyes and fixed his hat, "I'm going back to sleep."

Victor pulled Yuuri's head gently leaning over his chest. "Doesn't your head hurt leaning over that way? My chest is open for Yuuri~"

"Yeah, kinda..." he pulled the blanket, "Your chest feels... nice... though..." Victor patted Yuuri's arm in a constant rhythm, drifting Yuuri back to sleep.

He smiled gently, since when did I change?

The past Victor Nikiforov wouldn't want to get cramped up with someone in economy class flight, pulling them over to him so they would get better sleep. The past Victor Nikiforov would just sit through the flight without a care. So why was he enjoying the contact so much right now?

He thought he didn't care about anything, but it seemed he cared enough about Yuuri.

His fingers played with Yuuri's hand under the cover while lips smiled wholly for Yuuri.

He couldn't even recall the eye colour of his skating mate back in Russia. But he had memorised every shade of that pair of chestnut brown sneaking a glance on Victor while skating on the rink. He had every step sequence and jump created by that enticing body imprinted on his mind.

But why only Yuuri?

What made him so special?

The people Victor met in his life always expected things from him.

Yakov expected him to be a good pupil.

His exes expected him to be a lot more mature.

The world expected him to be the champion.

But, Yuuri...

He never expected anything out of Victor. He's fine being himself. His way of coaching, his excessive skinship―Yuuri accepted them as a part of Victor. Yuuri accepted them and never demanded him to change his way.

Was Yuuri the first one who told Victor he's fine the way he was?

No.

Yuuri was not.

In fact, he couldn't count how many people had told him that...

... before they turned back on their own words not long after.

He thought Yuuri would be the same, and Victor was ready to put on his mask this time if Yuuri wanted him to―because Yuuri's talent was too amazing for him to pass up because of his selfishness, childishness, or indifference. He simply wouldn't let go of this talent that easy.

Yet even after months of training under him, Yuuri never once expressed his disappointment in Victor.

Even though he thought Yuuri wouldn't like his idol Victor Nikiforov as anything less than perfect.

Victor leant his head on top of Yuuri's head, his fingers which brushed playfully against the back of Yuuri's palm before, now found their place between Yuuri's fingers. He grabbed them lightly, intertwining their fingers. But it seemed that still managed to wake Yuuri up from his sleep.

"Victor? Are we there yet?" Yuuri mumbled between his sleepy yawn.

Victor just shook his head, "Nope. You can sleep some more if you want."

"My head aches," Yuuri shifted himself to a more comfortable position on Victor's chest. He blinked a few times before widening his eyes.

Victor noticed Yuuri's fingers twitched. Ah, he probably noticed how he's leaning on Victor and their fingers locked together under the blanket. Victor waited for Yuuri's reaction―would he push Victor and back away? Or would he slowly release the grip on their hands and remove himself from Victor's chest?

Yuuri was starting to get used to Victor's cuddling lately. His face didn't even turn red like in the past. But seeing as Yuuri's face was hinting that shade of red right now, it might be caused by the fact that Yuuri was the one leaning against Victor this time instead of the other way around. Yuuri was fine being hugged by Victor, but this time might be different.

Victor eyed Yuuri closely, not wanting to miss any small details of his reaction. He kinda missed seeing flustered Yuuri.

So, which is it?

Instead of doing anything that came across Victor's mind, Yuuri decided to do something he least expected.

Yuuri tightened the grip of their fingers, not drastic, but gently―as if not wanting Victor to notice the subtle movement he made. His head snuggled closer to Victor while his breath hitched. Yuuri kept his mouth shut, maintaining the silence they had―pretending not to notice the position he was in.

Yuuri's reaction was better than he thought. Victor had to hold himself from laughing seeing Yuuri's effort pretending not to notice.

"Yuuri," Victor started, wanting to amuse himself even more, "You're surprisingly bold today."

He could feel Yuuri's whole body jerked when he said that. His body stiffened, but it loosened up somehow after a moment.

"Well, you like cuddling, don't you?"

Like cuddling?

Really? He didn't even realise that.

He had heard tons of people saying the opposite. But this―this was the first. He had never heard of anyone other than Yuuri saying Victor liked cuddling.

Because Victor never had the interest in cuddling up with someone. Because no one had given him this sense of comfort just by sitting so close. They were the things he only showed to Yuuri―and only Yuuri.

Victor thought he knew himself well. But apparently he didn't. Maybe he's not that indifferent as they said. Maybe Victor only needed someone to accept him, before he could open up to them.

Victor's world only consisted of Victor Nikiforov, Maccachin and skating.

But expanding his world might not be as hard as he once thought was.

One step at a time.

Starting from Yuuri.

And Victor's sure Yuuri would be there to help him realise things about himself he couldn't do alone. He's learning more about himself through Yuuri.

"Yeah, I like cuddling with you."


End.

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a/n1: what have I done. I thought I decided to go on a hiatus to focus on my paper. but it was kinda stressing me out so I decided to just write fanfictions after all!

a/n2: I might write more on this fandom.

a/n3: victor sometimes seems to be hiding things (but I believe he's not evil!) he's just way too indifferent seeing how he forgets promises, DOESN'T EVEN RECOGNISE YUURI WHO'S COMPETING AGAINST HIM IN GRAND PRIX, also by how yakov says he thinks only of himself. and I also believe he's changing. for the better thanks to yuuri. and I still love that beach scene to death, I just know what yuuri said that time must have meant a lot to him.

a/n4: I want them happy.

a/n5: thanks for reading!