a/n: Here are some more scenes :)
A tremble built from deep within his guts, so violent and nauseating that Yuuri stumbled in step.
No.
The world blurred.
Yuuri choked on his breath, fingers clenched around his phone. A numbness spread through his body, and Yuuri couldn't tell if he managed to disconnect Mari's call or not before he turned to the man who's happiness meant the world to him.
"Viktor you have to go back to Japan right now."
Viktor stiffened to the abrupt command, but Yuuri's serious expression kept him from any unnecessary dramatics. "What's wrong?" he asked instead, matching Yuuri's tone.
Yuuri swallowed. "I'm sorry, Viktor. Makkachin got to some sticky buns. She in the hospital right now– they're not sure if she'll make it. "
It was the tiny things that gave away Viktor's fear, unlike Yuuri's own usual response of explosive accidental magic. Viktor was always a man full of motion – tapping fingers, wide roving eyes, and a lithe body that swayed constantly to the invisible beat of the world. But all that froze in that single second. His pupils dilated, and breathing jerked.
Yuuri's heart ached for Viktor, yet all the Russian said was: "I can't."
"You have to go," Yuuri pressed, as memories of Vicchan swirled in the back of his mind. The regret resurfaced, along with the guilt and self-hatred, and the biting coldness that had spread across the back of his head until he hadn't been able to focus on breathing, let alone skating his Sochi Free Skate.
If only he'd been able to spend more time with Vicchan; if only he'd be able to spend Vicchan's last moments with him. There had been so many 'if only's weighing Yuuri down, until he wanted nothing to do but curl into a ball and cry his soul out.
Yuuri couldn't let Viktor experience the same heartbreak.
"Your Free Skate is tomorrow-" Viktor began.
"-and I'm telling you to go," Yuuri cut in.
Yuuri wanted to be many things to Viktor, but never the cause of his misery.
And perhaps Yuuri would become a spectacular failure on ice without Viktor's piercing, loving eyes watching his every motion, but Yuuri would not allow his own shortcomings to chain Viktor down. Not after everything the man had given him, and was still willing to give at this very moment.
Viktor looked torn.
Even if they booked the earliest flights, Viktor wouldn't be able to make it back in time - not that Yuuri wanted Viktor to rush back either, not if Makkachin needed him.
Frustration built.
Yuuri lamented, "Why are muggle planes so slow?"
"Muggle planes," Viktor repeated distantly, a murmur mostly to himself, "Is that what they're calling it these days?"
Any other time Yuuri would've been ecstatic to get into a riveting debate with Viktor about the different ways non-magicals were referred as. Schooled in Great Britain, Yuuri himself always found the American's term 'no-maj' odd. He could only imagine what they were called in Russia.
But at the moment, that was the last thing on his mind. Even if Viktor wanted to distract himself with such meaningless things, Yuuri couldn't do it.
"It's my fault. I knew I should've applied for an emergency international portkey," Yuuri said ruefully, because Viktor was too polite to accuse him of it.
Especially with the amount of travelling he did for competitions, an emergency portkey was common sense for safety reasons alone. Yet Yuuri had weighed cost over safety and opt to forgo one. International portkey were expensive, okay?
Plus thoughts of all the paperwork that needed to be filled out when he arrived in different countries to allow for the portkey already set his anxiety high. Yuuri hadn't wanted to deal with so many issues in addition to the competition.
How stupid of him to not realise it would come back to bite him in the butt.
And the more he fretted, the more problems Yuuri uncovered. "We don't even have Floo Network connected at the inn, not that it can travel that far, but I can't believe how unprepared I am," Yuuri admitted miserably.
Had Viktor been uncomfortable by the inconveniences all this time, Yuuri suddenly wondered? He'd been more or less forced to live as a muggle because of the constant guests at the bathhouse. Yuuri was used to it so he never considered how other wizards would deal.
Viktor blinked, head cocked, as though he never considered it a problem, though truthfully he looked a bit overwhelmed. "Nothing's your fault," the man said softly at last.
Viktor was perfect. So caring, so considerate, so accepting.
If Yuuri could even be half of what Viktor was to him.
"It'll be fine, I promise. If the vet can't do anything, maybe we could find a Healer? They could probably find a way to transfigure the bun to something harmless to pass through…" Yuuri rambled, knowing he had to comfort Viktor somehow, even though he'd been doing a dismal job so far.
He didn't know the right things to say, or have the resources to help, but for Viktor he would try, even if he had to ramble unintelligently and make a fool of himself.
"Just- please go. For me. For Makkachin," Yuuri pleaded. "When you get there, call me. Or owl. Or send a patronus, or-"
There was a tug, and Yuuri was pulled into Viktor's chest, arms wrapped tightly around him. It was equally soothing and nerve-wracking all at once. His heart and mind ceased racing for one matter, only to hop on board onto another. It would've been more distracting if not for the fact that Yuuri could feel Viktor's shaking hands on his back.
He may seem fine outwardly, but Yuuri knew Makkachin was more than just a pet.
"Viktor-" Yuuri began.
"Shhh. Thank you. You don't have to say anymore."
Viktor gave a chuckle, though it was more hollow than the one Yuuri was well used to by now. It wasn't hard to tell the difference, because Viktor's genuine laughs were bright and infectious, and could light up the world around him. This time, it only made Yuuri wanted to wrap up the man and shield him away from reality instead.
"It seems my understanding of English is a mess when I'm nervous," Viktor admitted, face buried into the crook of Yuuri's neck. Nestled there so perfectly like he belonged. "Not like yours."
"I've lived in Detroit for years," Yuuri countered weakly, realising Viktor was trying to distract him again, to assuage his guilt.
"Ah, Detroit slang. How unique."
Yuuri couldn't say it was any more unique than a typical American, but he wouldn't argue with Viktor at this time.
Yuuri's fist curls around Viktors back. "I'm sorry," he said, unable to help himself, " I'm sorry I can't be more help -"
"Nonsense. It's more than enough. I understand your care. Thank you, Yuuri, from Makkachin and me."
"So you'll go?"
"Yes," Viktor said, worn by Yuuri's persistence.
In the end, Yuuri was left in Yakov's capable hands.
There'd been no magical mishap despite Yuuri's erratic pulse and terrified worries. And though it was only barely, he managed to scrape by to squeeze into the Finals in order to show the world what a wonderful coach Viktor was.
To be honest, the request for Viktor to take him sightseeing had been an impulsive move, and only partially intentional on his part.
Yuuri had realised that Barcelona's magical shopping district, San Mercutio, was nearby, and the thought hadn't left him since, eager to visit. The only other wizarding districts Yuuri had had the pleasure of visiting was Diagon Alley in London, Hogsmead, and Sakura Kinjo in the Saga Prefecture of Japan.
It was an opportunity Yuuri couldn't miss. (Neither could he miss the chance to explore such a romantic city with Viktor.)
Viktor was a good sport.
They hit all the famous muggle tourist attractions first, which involved copious amount of shopping, dragged into stores by Viktor every time something interesting caught the Russian's eyes. The man was a shopping addict with more than enough money to burn.
The evening was already darkening by the time Yuuri could begin his search for San Mercutio's entrance.
Locating the place was harder than expected.
Yuuri bit his lip in frustration. "I swear it's around here, Viktor," Yuuri said, for most likely the tenth time since they started looking. "San Mercutio should be close by."
"Are you certain?" Viktor asked, not doubtfully, but there was a twinge of restlessness in his tone which Yuuri could pick out. The man tapped away on his phone as he trotted beside Yuuri.
Viktor was getting bored, Yuuri knew. They'd been walking in circles for a while now, with nothing to show for it.
Yuuri's fingers tugged the hem of his shirt in a nervous twitch. "I think so," he answered, though not as confident as he wanted.
It was unsurprising that Viktor eventually lost focus. The man drifted away, distracted, interest lost as his glazed gaze turned back on the nearby shops instead, eager to continue his shopping spree than to continue this futile task.
"Viktor," Yuuri said, hesitantly. "Come on."
But instead of following, the Russian only wandered further.
"But Yuuri, we need go back to the stores! I think we forgot to buy–" he started.
His blatant disinterest stung. It felt like it wasn't just the outing, but Yuuri himself, that Viktor was snubbing, and Yuuri hated his lapse in attention.
Yuuri didn't let him finish.
Impulsively, the skater wrapped his hand around Viktor's. He tugged the man forward, turning large, pleading eyes up at him. "Please? Don't you want to go to San Mercutio with me?" he implored, while the fear of rejection pressed on his chest.
Viktor startled.
His gaze lowered onto their joined hands. Then, slowly, he looked up, a large smile crept onto his face. "Oh, Yuuri, I'll follow you anywhere," he vowed and entwined his fingers with his.
A warmth settled over his limbs.
"We'll buy what you forgot later, when we leave San Mercutio," Yuuri promised. "It's just around here, I know it!"
Viktor seemed too cheerful to care about it anymore, even though it still took several forceful tugs to lead him where Yuuri wanted him to go.
It turned out, they were close by.
Unlike the shifting brick entrance to Diagon Alley, hidden inside a wizarding pub, or Sakura Kinjo, hidden amidst throngs of sakura, San Mercutio was more out in the open.
The entrance was hidden within an old building, where admission required weaving through the architectural archways in a particular sequence. The last step across the threshold would open the barrier and transport them into San Mercutio, and the awe was much like stepping through platform nine and three quarters at King's Cross.
It was a bit more complicated than Yuuri had expected; no wonder it took him such a long time to find it.
Because of the location, Yuuri didn't doubt there were muggle repelling charms in the vicinity as well, because without any charms, foreigners dancing in and out of archways would've otherwise caught everyone's attention – especially if one of the foreigners was the Living Legend, Viktor Nikiforov.
San Mercurio was small shopping district, a fraction the size of Diagon Alley. The buildings and street plan had a resemblance to those of Barcelona's Gothic Quarter, with its Gothic architecture style and winding streets.
Vendors displayed their wares with flourish that could only be found in the wizarding world, full of vitality and grandor and charms that sent sparkles to everyone's eyes.
Yuuri stopped in awe, because though he may be a wizard, the display of skills never stopped amazing him. Beside him, Viktor was equally still as he marveled the sights.
It was a relief to know he wasn't the only one so easily distracted by such simple acts of magic.
"Do you need to buy anything?" Yuuri asked, looking away, saying nothing to the warm feel of Viktor's hand carefully slipped over Yuuri's own. He tugged the man along, lest they block the entrance for other shoppers.
There was a rumble from the back of Viktor's throat, though Yuuri had a feeling it was more for the sake of acknowledging he'd been listening rather than a positive response.
They trotted along aimlessly.
"It's not as crowded as Diagon Alley is," Yuuri commented, trying to fill the silence that suddenly came between them. It was surprising since Viktor was always the sort to chatter and squeal about absolutely nothing. Perhaps muggle matters were more amazing to him, and matters of the wizarding world was too common and mundane to bother with.
They squeezed by a crowd of children worshipping the latest Firebolt. A smile crept into Yuuri's face.
He'd never gotten into the whole Quidditch craze, but- "Something about the Quidditch store draws me in every time." Perhaps it was second-hand excitement from enduring years of classmates talking his ears off about it.
He'd never been too bad of a flyer either.
He glanced at the new boom model once more, then drew on his confidence. "I was never good on a broom, but do you want to fly together some time?"
Silence.
"I mean you don't have to if you don't want to," Yuuri backtracked, sudden regret gnawing in his stomach. He shouldn't have asked. Why did he ask?
The silence continued, and eventually Yuuri pulled his eyes up from where he had dropped them, peeking tentatively at the man.
"Viktor?"
Viktor froze in front of the store, his eyes enraptured by the golden snitch flittering behind the display window, pupils darting with it's erratic movements. His hand tightened against Yuuri's and Yuuri wondered if he was envisioning capturing the snitch.
"Were you ever a seeker?" Yuuri asked, curiosity overwhelming. The snitch was shiny, golden, and full of energy – everything that was sure to dazzle the five-time world gold medallist. He could envision Viktor in Quidditch uniform, long silver hair fluttering in the wind.
Yuuri suddenly wished he'd studied in Russia instead.
"Seeker?" Viktor repeated. He seemed reluctant to tear his eyes away from the snitch.
"Mhm, I'm sure you captured a lot of snitches."
Viktor's thumb caressed tender circles over Yuuri's hand, before he turned from the display at last, an odd smile on his face. "Well, I'm certainly a seeker of love," he settled with, leaning down, staring deep into Yuuri's eyes. "There's only one thing I want to capture."
Blood rushed to his face.
"Viktor!" he cried, feeling eyes on them.
The man chuckled and took a step back. His eyes glanced back at the snitch once more, before he gently tugging Yuuri along with him.
"Sorry, what did you say earlier?"
Yuuri fidgeted, before ultimately shook his head. "No, no, nevermind. It was nothing. I was just talking to myself," he rambled.
Viktor pursed his lip and tightened his grip. "You said you wanted to… fly with me?"
Yuuri flushed but nodded.
"...on-" he pointed at the Firebolt, "-the broom?"
He nodded again. "Or, any model," Yuuri rushed out, because what if Viktor thought he only wanted to fly on the latest Firebolt together? "I think I have an old Nimbus somewhere."
Viktor considered it carefully, then tilted his head. "How about skating?" He asked softly. "What if I wanted to skate instead? Will you skate with me?"
It would be a dream come true.
"Yes," Yuuri said. "Yes, please."
Before his anxiety had the time to rear its ugly head and had him retracting his words, Viktor beamed at him. A switched seemed to had been flipped, and the man spun in spot, dragging Yuuri bodily along.
"Come on Yuuri, there's so much more to see," he exclaimed, playing the excited tourist.
It was like the subdue Viktor Yuuri saw earlier had been nothing more but an illusion. Whatever the problem was, it seemed Viktor was over it.
The man made an impatient sound.
"Okay," Yuuri replied dutifully, smile growing in his lips. "But we need to stop at the Apothecary before we leave, he added, because knowing Viktor, they would shop until Yuuri was too tired to remember his main objective.
"Apothecary?"
"For potions," Yuuri clarified, almost forgetting the language barrier.
"Oh," Viktor murmured distantly, but didn't give the Russian equivalent.
"What are you buying," he asked at last, a few minutes later.
"Some Invigoration Draughts and probably a couple Pepper-up's," Yuuri listed off. "Did you need to get anything?"
"No, I don't know what-" Viktor replied, then seemed to think better of it. "Ah, maybe next time," he added.
An impish grin grew on Yuuri's face. "Okay," he said, knowingly, eyes twinkling mischievously. It was a good thing his glasses covered up his evil intent. "I'll let you know if I see any hair-growth potion," Yuuri said.
Viktor gasped, hands sliding out of Yuuri's, and Yuuri almost regretted it. Almost, but not quite, because the sight of Viktor flustered made up for everything.
Viktor's both hands clamped over the top of his head, looking scandlised over at him.
"I think I saw a flyer for a discount on Sleekeazy's Potions for the Balding Wizard," Yuuri continued innocently.
Viktor shot Yuuri a glower before sulkily turning to track the passing buildings as they strolled past them. It was a smart move, considering how confusing the winding streets were. Yuuri probably would find himself lost without Viktor there. As it was, it seemed Viktor was diligently muttering something to himself under his breath.
"I'm sorry!" Yuuri surrendered, jogging to keep up with the other man. He bowed meekly.
Viktor turned towards him and rubbed his hair whorl. "You should be," he said huffily, but still slipped his hand back into Yuuri's the next second. He truly wasn't mad.
To be able to shop and tease Viktor like this - this was a relationship Yuuri cherished and would never give up on.
"Tell me if you spot Gringotts," Yuuri call over, and happily continued his shopping spree with Viktor.
After Viktor announced his comeback to competitive skating, they couldn't take one step without being ambushed them with questions and congratulations.
Yuuri and Viktor crept along the hallways, backs pressed against the walls as they tried to make their way out undetected.
Despite the fact that his heart was beating grand frantically in his chest in unnecessary anxiousness, Viktor seemed to be having the time of his life. Something about pretending to be ninjas. Yuuri should've known the man had a ninja obsession considering how he acted at the sight of Hasetsu's ninja castle.
Still, they were not actual ninjas, and the entrance was flocked with reporters.
"Should we apparate?" Yuuri asked, tugging Viktor back into the depth of the stadium.
Viktor paused, then slowly glanced over. "Both of us?" he asked. Yuuri nodded, but that only caused Viktor to looked troubled. "Why don't you ap-parate first? I'll catch up," he said, stumbling awkwardly over the word, because Yuuri didn't know enough Russian to give him the foreign equivalent.
"Where are you going?" Yuuri said, confused.
Viktor shrugged and smiled, making shooing motions with his hands. But something about his expression held Yuuri back.
A thought drifted through Yuuri's head. "Can you apparate?"
Viktor froze.
Yuuri turned towards the older man, who shifted uncomfortably under his inquiring gaze. "…no?" Viktor finally said, hesitant, and it was surprising because Viktor seemed like someone who could do anything he put his mind to.
At the sight of Yuuri's wide eyes, Viktor slowly grew worried, shoulders hunching and eyes darting away.
Yuuri caught himself and quickly schooled his shocked expression. Despite how perfect Viktor appeared, Yuuri knew best that everyone had their weaknesses. Viktor had nothing to be ashamed of.
Besides, apparition was more of a luxury than a necessity considering all the other different methods of travel, and a dangerous one at that. Yuuri had heard his share of splinching horror stories before finally acquired his Apparition License.
He said reassuringly, "That's fine. Some of my classmates never got Licenses either. Actually, I hear the Centre de Convencions Internacional de Barcelona is connected to the Floo Network. Most international convention centers in the European Union are."
"Ah, is that so," Viktor muttered to himself.
There was no inflection in his tone, but Yuuri thought he sounded rather frustrated. Was he frustrated at his lack of license, or did he not like floo-ing either? Yuuri wondered if Viktor was the type who could never escape the Floo unscathed, either covered with soot or sent tumbling out the other side.
He felt guilty admitting that he looked forward to helping Viktor brush ash from his silky silver hair, or catching him mid fall, if it came to that.
Yuuri tugged Viktor along the corridors in search of the elusive fireplace. Viktor gave no resistance.
They carefully searched around for a while, mindful of the reporters. Eventually, they stumbled into a small room hidden away behind an innocent, blank door. Yuuri dragged Viktor inside with a bit more force than necessary, but it wasn't his fault Viktor was still too busy playing ninja by himself to pay attention in front of them.
Viktor shook his head dazily, recovering from the sharp tug.
Guiltily, Yuuri let go.
"Here it is," Yuuri said, carrying on. He reached into small tin sitting above the fireplace. Viktor followed suit hesitantly when Yuuri tipped the tin over to him.
Yuuri frowned thoughtfully. "I don't think our Hotel's connect to the Network, but I remember a Pub in San Mercutio with a public Floo set up. Let's meet up there," he suggested. Viktor looked worried. "I'll go first?" Yuuri offered graciously, and catching Viktor in his arms on the other side seemed more and more like a growing reality.
Before Viktor could say anything, Yuuri threw in the Floo powder and called out "Ivanne's Pub" to the growing green flames. Then he stepped inside and let the green flames engulf him whole.
He should've reason something was wrong when minutes ticked by with no sign of Viktor following behind him.
a/n: Viktor was trying to find directions to 'San Mercutio' on his phone to no avail.
