this was going to be longer, but the next scene felt sort of forced in, so i cut it. it may take place next chapter, it may not.

.-.-.-.-.

The next few days saw a complete change in routine. Every day Yuuri was to wake up at five in the morning, shower in ten minutes or less, feed and take out Makkachin, make breakfast for Viktor, eat a slice of toast, and begin exercise. Yuuri would start with his stretches, then start running laps around the neighborhood until Viktor was satisfied - sometimes just a few circles, sometimes until Yuuri was collapsing from exhaustion. He proceeded to pushups until his arms gave out, situps until his tailbone was bruised, lunges until his thighs screamed.

He supposed he deserved this. He went against Viktor's rules. It was amazing that Viktor even still loved him. Who would? Yuuri was a damn mess, always breaking rules, always destroying trust, being such a shitty fiancé. He was grateful, of course. Viktor should have abandoned him for betraying him like that, should have taken his ring back and kicked Yuuri to the curb to crawl back to his family, and yet instead he forgave him.

Yuuri was not allowed to have Phichit over anymore.

To Yuuri's dismay, Viktor also called off their plans to visit family. Instead, he continued to train and exercise, working his body to the point of exhaustion daily. It hurt to call up his family and tell them he couldn't visit, even more painful when he had to tell them that no, they could not come by, but he had to. It was what Viktor wanted.

Weeks passed, and the strict training regimen slowed. After dozens of rejected kisses and ignored love professions, Viktor's affection returned. The first time they kissed, Yuuri bawled. Viktor reminded him that crying was unsightly.

They returned to the rink soon after. Laps around the neighborhood were replaced with laps around the rink. Jumps were practiced. They began speculating ideas for a theme next year and drafting outfits - or rather, Viktor came up with ideas and Yuuri simply nodded along with whatever he mentioned. No breaks were had during skating, and Yuuri was not to socialize. Any time he was not skating, doing chores, or exercising was spent obediently at Viktor's side.

He was so happy that Viktor still loved him that he didn't even care all that much.

.-.-.-.-.

"Yuri would like you two to come with us."

Yuuri overheard the deep baritone as he skated past his fiancé and, in response, slowed to a halt. He looked back and, to his surprise, made out the distinct figures of Yurio and Otabek standing by Viktor. He was hesitant, but his curiosity overwhelmed him, and he skated over to the edge of the rink, resting his forearms against the edge.

"Yurio!" Happiness bubbled in his chest as the blond gave him his trademark mask of general disgust. He hadn't seen the kid in ages and missed him dearly, even if Yurio pretended not to like him. "And Otabek, too!"

Otabek offered him a raised hand in greeting. Yurio crossed his arms tightly and looked away. Yuuri glanced over at his fiancé and his good mood dropped in an instant - Viktor was staring him down, ice blue eyes cold and warning, and Yuuri wanted to shrink into nothing. Otabek cleared his throat. Yuuri could not decide whether he should skate away then or remain and listen - and his curiosity got the better of him.

"Yuuri Katsuki," he greeted in that low voice, always so formal, surprisingly talkative today. Though, he supposed, what with Yurio's stubborn disposition, someone had to do the talking. "We want to invite you and Nikiforov out for dinner. To catch up."

All eyes were on him; even Yurio had glanced over, silent, observant. Otabek was patient and poker-faced. Viktor's gaze was warning him away from speaking. The coach offered a pleasant smile to their fellow skaters, waving a dismissive hand, though Yuuri could see the tension in his shoulders.

"Thank you," Viktor started, "but - "

"Katsudon can speak for himself."

It was the first time Yurio had spoken, as far as Yuuri knew. The young Russian was glaring up at the elder, nearly identical sets of icy blue orbs meeting in a furious challenge. A large hand settled on Yurio's shoulder, but he only seemed to relax minutely, still staring at Viktor as if daring him to speak once more. Sighing softly, Otabek looked back to Yuuri, and his nerves suddenly spiked. What was he supposed to do? To say?

"Would you like to join us?" he asked, the most calm of the lot, his voice soothing in a way Yuuri had never known Viktor's to be. The very thought made him guilty, and he looked away, only to catch his fiance's intense stare. He knew what to say. He knew what he was supposed to say, at least. What Viktor wanted him to say. Politely decline, look happy, shoo them away.

And then his eyes turned to Yurio, and in an unexpected turn, his chest ached with an unfathomable sadness. There was a gentility and acceptance in his features, in the way they softened when he met Yuuri's gaze, a look of softness that he had not known the teenager was capable of showing towards human beings, rather than cats. He urged him to speak his mind. He implored him to be honest. He begged him to be himself.

"I would really like that," Yuuri heard himself say.

He didn't look Viktor in the face. He knew he would only see cold anger and disappointment. He found that he did not care if Viktor was mad or even punished him for it - it was worth the look of pride on both Yurio and Otabek's faces. And Viktor would relent, of course he would. He could not turn down the invitation now, even if the thought of going with them gave him a rather sour expression, though it was so fleeting that Yuuri was probably the only one to see it.

"Tonight, then," Otabek said, breaking the silence. He slung a comforting arm around Yurio's shoulders and waved farewell as they walked away. Yurio looked over his shoulder and stuck his tongue out at Yuuri.

There was a surprising warmth to the gesture.

All warmth vanished when he looked back at Viktor. He glared holes into Yuuri's very being, fury radiating like a tangible force. Yuuri could feel all the confidence and hope he'd gained vanish completely, and his limbs began to tremble. He wanted to shrink back, to hide, to run, but he did not move, could not even look away. Viktor took a deep, shaking breath, and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, Yuuri was even more terrified at the coldness that resided there.

"Twenty-five more laps," he said, and Yuuri obeyed. When he was finished, Viktor kissed him once, and nothing more.