dorogoy: russian for (masc.)"dear/sweetheart"

Up on the ninth floor of Moscow's Star Hotel, Yuuri heaved a sigh of relief as the door shut behind him.

That was tense. I wish Yurio wouldn't hate me so much. But I guess I understand why he still holds a grudge.

The fatigued skater flopped onto the king sized bed. As he laid there for a minute, his mind wandered and a smile settled onto his face as a lovely little fact came to mind:

Unlike in Beijing, here in Moscow, they decided to share a large room, instead of getting two, now that they were together. So Victor would be walking through that door soon, and will hopefully be ready to snuggle up.

It had only been two weeks, but they hadn't slept a single night alone since. The warmth and comfort of the other's presence had become an integral part of their relationship. In the privacy of their room, they could shut out the press, the competiton and the scrutiny of those who didn't understand.

Yuuri clutched the fluffy pillow on his side of the bed and nuzzled into it, exhaling the stress of a long day of traveling.

Victor made his way up to the top floor in the elevator, thankfully alone with his thoughts. After that grueling interrogation by the press, questions weighed on his mind more than ever: Would he want to return to the ice and meet his beloved in competition? Did he want to return to competition at all, or continue on a path as a coach? But most importantly, what would he do when this season is done? Did he really want to move back to St. Petersburg?

His most immediate thought about the future, on or off the ice, concerned Yuuri. When he began this venture, he had been inspired and knew he had found a kindred spirit in the younger Katsuki. But he hadn't expected to fall in love. Out all the ways Yuuri had surprised him, that was biggest one.

Yuuri's love had become all-consuming. He was passionate and devoted, both to the sport and to him. It reignited within Victor the love for skating and an honest reinvestment in life. The multiple record breaker hadn't felt this amazing about life as a whole in nearly a decade. The one thing Victor knew for sure, especially in the last two weeks, that no matter what his future held in a way of career, Yuuri was now, and likely would always be an indisposable part of his life.

And he intended on keeping it that way. He hadn't exactly told him yet, but he would. Victor already had been planning it in his mind; and when they got home form Barcelona, he would finally let himself freefall into the depths of their love.

His face warmed at the idea of Yuuri waiting for him in the room, likely on the bed, making himself cozy. The elevator doors opened with a ding. He found his feet wanting to move faster as he hustled down the hallway, wanting nothing more to walk in that door and into his lover's arms.

Yuuri had begun nodding off when the door clicked, unlocking at the swipe of Victor's key card.

Victor stepped in and took one look at his sleepyhead and smiled.

"Yuuri, dorogoy, you are asleep already?"

The tired twenty-something opened one droopy eye and hummed, trying to wake up a bit.

"You would not believe what happened to me downstairs," they told each other in stereo.

With a chuckle, Victor gestured to his beau. "You first."

Yuuri went on to describe the scene at the Lobby elevators with Seung Gil, Emil, and the Crispino siblings with a hint of exasperation in his voice.

"That's not normal in Italy, is it? To be that protective of one's sister? I mean, if I didn't know the two of them, I would think they were a couple and not siblings," Yuuri pondered, getting a little creeped out at the thought.

"I wouldn't think it's healthy, but who am I to judge?" Victor agreed before switching the subject. "So what did Seung Gil say? How hard did the Korean Ice King diss Sara?"

"Pretty much flat out. Why, does he hate her or something?" Yuuri started feeling a little confused about the Korean's repulsed respone.

Victor shook his head, smiling a secretive little grin.

"No, he's just, well, a gay man who has zero patience for women, especially flirtatious one like Sara."

It all suddenly made way more sense. And Yuuri let the subject drop before adding, "Yurio hopped in the elevator with me on the way up. He wasn't in a very good mood."

"Well, that doesn't surprise me, actually. It's partially my fault," Victor snickered. "I sort of used him as a temporary diversion with the press."

Yeah, that would piss him off. Yuuri shook his head in amusement.

"You really love pushing the kid's buttons, don't you?"

Victor landed unceremoniously on the bed next to his sweetheart with a laugh.

"Not as much as I enjoy pushing yours, kobuta-chan," he retorted, tickling Yuuri's tummy, which had been peeking out from under the hem of his t-shirt. "But to be honest, the reporters were asking too many questions about me, and my career that I don't feel are currently any of their business."

Yuuri nodded. He looked up into those swirling cerulean seas, deep and full of so much emotion. Part of him wanted to pry, wanted to know. But Victor's whole demeanor lately had been so soft and affectionate, almost to the point of clingy at times. He knew there had been a change in him, as well. He knew that eventually he and his radiant Russian would have the 'future' talk. He just had to get through this Grand Prix series first.

Smiling, Yuuri reached up and sought out Victor's mouth. Victor pulled him in closer to embrace him fully and ravish him, as he was intent on conveying his motions through deed and dedication. They both relished the drag and caress of slick tongues, seeking comfort and closeness that never seemed enough.

Victor broke the kiss and smiled, nodding his head in the direction of the bathroom.

"We have an unprecedented amount of privacy tonight. Why don't we make the most of it?"

They filled the large tub for two and settled in, Yuuri between Victor's thighs with his back to him. Victor took a wash cloth and some body wash and began gently washing his lover's neck, shoulders and back.

Yuuri sighed, Victor's gentle ministrations calming him as the warm, soapy water soothed his skin. He reveled in the tender brush of the the soft cloth along his shoulders.

Back at home, the bathing area was entirely too public to wash each other. Besides that Mari had been giving them a weary, knowing eye ever since the night they got back from Beijing. They tried their damnedest not to get on her bad side any more than they already had.

This moment was so different from the cuddling, making out and fooling around that they did every evening. being washed by Victor was a far more intimate feeling-akin to the first time he let Victor brush his hair, but much more intense.

Victor worked his way around Yuuri's sides, to his chest. Pulling Yuuri in to lay flush against him, the sultry silver fox passed the warm wet cloth across his lover's chest. As hands swirled soft sudsy circles, Victor dove in to an assault on Yuuri's neck, toying at his hair line with his tongue.

Yuuri let out a soft hum as pleasure wound its way through his body like live wire.

"My Yuuri..." Victor sighed as he let go of the cloth and wrapped his arms around the younger man's waist, holding him tight. Yuuri had grown accustomed to the term of endearment. He hadn't yet said it out loud, but he felt exactly the same way about Victor.

Overlapping their arms, Yuuri gave Victor a little squeeze of concurrence.

"Ne, Victor, let's switch," he suggested with a mischievous smile.

Touching Victor would never lose it's novelty. The man he worshipped for years on the ice, was now his for the taking off the ice. Whether it be a gentle loving touch of the face, a late night massage with lavender and vanilla scented oils, satisfying more carnal urges, or merely brushing that beautiful head of argent hair.

Which is exactly what he found himself doing after their bath. Sated, clean and refreshed, both men sat on the bed. Victor sat crosslegged and Yuuri, behind him, sat seiza-style to give him height over his lover's long torso.

He took the brush and began working his way through the thick mop of siver strands. He thought about the lustrous length that he used to have and how suddenly one year he came back with it all chopped off, in the current look he had today.

Now having wondered why for years, and being comfortable enough with his former idol and coach-turned-lover, he let curiousity get the better of him.

"Victor, can I ask you something?"

Yuuri's voice was soft and low, as soothing as the gentle brushstrokes against his scalp. He hummed his affirmation.

"What made you cut your hair?"

There was a pause, followed by an amused hurrumph.

"Honestly, it was a few things," he began, as his mind drifted back nearly decade. "I got teased a lot as a kid for having 'girly' hair. I kept it, in part, to defy those who gave me a hard time about it. One of them was my father, and as I've told you before, he and I never really saw eye to eye. I was definitely a mama's boy." He chuckled lightly. "And boy did my mom love my long hair."

There was another pause, but Yuuri kept at his mesmerizing rhythm.

"Also, someone once said to me that the long hair would someday put too much stress on my hair, making it thinner, and cause a receding hairline."

"So that's why you freaked out about me poking your head that time? You are really that concerned about it?"

"Yeah, it freaks me out a little."

Yuuri giggled at him. "A little? Pfft..." He shook his head at his beau's silly concern. "Your hair is still beautiful, Victor. Long or short."

There was a soft gasp, and Victor turned toward him on the bed.

"Do you know how much I miss my long hair? I cut it when I was eighteen, at the request of Yakov after I had taken my ponytail to the face. I nearly choked on it in the middle of a quad-toeloop during practice," he elaborated, his tone growing dim. "I think both he and my father were just waiting for a reason to make me cut it."

He sighed and looked at his lap.

"I had been growing my hair since I was ten years old. My mother cried the day I cut it."

Hot tears stung Yuuri's deep brown eyes. He tried to relate to his own relationship with his mother, and how much he loved her. It was heartbreaking to imagine the pain Victor feels about all of these seemingly superfluous things.

"I resolved myself to keeping it short until I retire from the ice. After that, I think-no, I know- that I will grow it out again," Victor stated resolutely. He looked up and saw those dark doe eyes looking at him in wonder, making him chuckle. "You really loved my long hair, didn't you?"

Yuuri froze, blushing as was caught red handed in a fanboy moment. He held his breath for a few seconds and took Victor's hands in his, begging a response.

"Yes...Yes I did. I always thought it complimented how graceful you are on the ice. But..." he paused, mustering the courage to speak his heart. "Victor...you are beautiful, strong and graceful, inside and out...no matter what."

Those shimmering oceans swelled as waves of so many emotions crashed down on the older skater. He knew Yuuri meant every word of it. Tears fell silently down Victor's cheeks and he scooped his brunet beau into his arms, falling backwards onto the bed and hitting the pillows, taking his beloved kobuta-chan with him.

"Thank you, Yuuri," he whispered into his ear before burying his face in the crook of Yuuri's neck. "You're the first person to say something like that to me since Mama died. I can't tell you how much that means to me."

Victor heart swelled with so much love. Yuuri Katsuki surprised him everyday. This man had so much love to give, and he had denied himself for so long. Thinking about it further, Victor realized that in his pain and struggles, he too had locked up his heart and buried it under the veneer of a skating superstar and sex symbol. Yuuri saw him, broke through and pulled him out into the light.

Eventually their embrace loosened as they began to drift off.

Yuuri felt so grateful for Victor. His life would never be the same. And he hoped above all hope, that they will remain together both on the ice and off.

With a yawn, he reached and pulled the blankets over them. With a gentle thumb, he wiped the remainder of Victor's tears from under his eyes and kissed his forehead. Victor had already floated off to dreamland. Smiling to himself Yuuri curled up to his lover and whispered,

"Aishiteru, Victor."

He closed his eyes and let himself wander down the path to slumber. What he missed was a single blue eye opening and smiling at him. What he also didn't know was that Victor had been looking up things to say to Yuuri in his mother tongue. And that phrase was one of them.

The next day, upon their arrival at the Megasports Arena in Moscow, the nation darling and his protégé-turned-lover were bombarded by a flood of flashes and screaming fans from around the world. Reporters pressed into their personal space with invasive questions.

"So what do you have to say about your kiss on international television?"

"Are the two of you in a romantic relationship?"

"Is Yuuri going to move to Russia with you, or are you staying in Japan?"

Yuuri and Victor eyed each other with a side glance.

Ugh, not THIS again. Just ignore it and get inside.

The the day after they got home from the Cup of China, they spent most of their afternoon staying lowkey. They ate breakfast for lunch and then spent most of their time snuggled under the covers in front of the laptop watching movies; Both to revel in a rare, relaxing day together...and to avoid any prolonged interaction with Mari.

Yuuri was still reeling, knowing his sister had heard much of their intimate interaction last night. He and Victor had gotten so swept up in each other, they didn't stop to consider their surroundings.

I can't change the fact that Sis knows about Victor and I. I just need to apologize.

Dinner time rolled around and there was a knock at their door. Judging by the silhouette, it was Mari.

Victor paused the video they were watching. "Nee-chan?" the Russian called with a smirk.

"Hey, are you two going to actually come out of your cave for dinner?"

"Yeah, we are," Yuuri responded hesitantly. "Nee-chan, come in for a second."

The door slid open and she stood there, looking curiously at the two of them, lounging in sweats. Victor sat up and put the laptop aside.

"Listen, Nee-chan," he fiddled with his fingers nervously, "We're sorry for disturbing you last night."

Mari saw how beet red her little brother was and couldn't help but laugh; an uninhibited belly laugh that brought tears to her eyes.

"Seriously, Yuuri," she said matter-of-fact, "I was only annoyed that I couldn't sleep. I mean, come on, man, you're twenty-freakin'-three. Get laid. Have a lover." She chuckled thinking of herself. "Pffft... Do you really think that I'm a virgin? Come on now..."

Victor saw how flustered Yuuri was trying to consider his sister having sex with random guys. He gave his beau a pat and spoke for the both of them.

"Mari, thank you for being understanding...adult-to-adult. We'll try to be more considerate from now on."

Mari nodded at them, crossing her arms.

"By the way, Morooka-san contacted us earlier here at the spa, asking to do an interview with the two of you," she said, changing the subject with a smirk. Yuuri looked at Victor hesitantly, then back at his sister, knowing she had more to say. "If there is anyone you should give an interview to, it would be him. That guy has rooted for you since you broke into the national skating scene."

She handed them a slip of paper.

"This is his personal cell number. You should give him a call."

The two astonished men nodded at each other. Mari moved out of the doorway to head back down the hall.

"Alright, guys. Time to eat."

The next day, they knew, would be a moment of truth. They got up and went for a run together, bright and early with Makkachin. They waved as neighbors, and other locals who recognized them, greeted them or honked as they drove by. The morning had already started out on a whole new level of public recognition.

Most weekdays, they had the rink to themselves until skating lessons and free skates in the late afternoon. Today as they arrived, there was already a small group of press waiting for them. One being a very calm Morooka-san.

The chaotic chorus of questions created a convoluded cacophony as they made their way toward the Ice Castle's entrance. Victor gave the loyal local reporter a look, signaling the man to follow them in. A few others went to follow and Victor held up his hand.

"I'm sorry folks, but the one man who gets to interview us before the grand prix series concludes is our dear friend, Morooka. The rest of you will have to wait until mid-December," he said, denying the rest of them entrance. "Good day."

They headed inside to the office, where Yuuko and Nishigori awaited them. The cameraman set up so that the interview framed them with the view of the rink through the windows behind them.

"Here, just as you requested, Mr. Nikiforov," the reporter said with a smile. "Here is the letterhead promise that this interview will not air until after the Grand Prix Final is finished. Which means that our nightly news at ten o'clock that Sunday will air the interview."

"That's perfect," Victor concurred as he took the paper and read it over, printed in Japanese, Russian and English. He handed it to Yuuri to also give it a read-through, who nodded his consent.

They all signed it, Morooka included, as the representative of the News Station.

"Also, if all goes well, we will be happy to do a follow up interview when we get back from Barcelona," Yuuri added in Japanese. Morooka beamed at him as the younger skater continued. "We are thankful-I am thankful-for you being such a supportive member of the press."

"You are very welcome," the eager journalist said empathetically. "Let's get to it, shall we?"

Victor and Yuuri nodded and Victor slid an arm along the back of Yuuri's chair, leaning casually into his personal space. The Russian flashed the reporteer a radiant smile.

"Ask away!"

They made it through the doors, hustling down the hall to the locker rooms and skaters' lounge.

"That was way worse than at home," Yuuri said with a sigh. "It just makes me so angry that being our being together is such a big deal."

Victor chuckled, "Living in America spoiled you, eh? Well, if you can't beat them with words, beat them with love."

Yuuri gave him a quizzical look.

"Give them what they want: a show. We can just be ourselves-well, to an extent-and you just go ahead and skate your ass off; show them why you are so awesome, and why we are such a great team."

Yuuri grinned wide before sneaking a quick peck on his lovers luscious lips.

"I'll show them that love wins."

After a warm-up and a couple hours of waiting around, the competition finally began. Victor and Yuuri kept generally to themselves, avoiding the drama many of the other skaters seemed to bring along with them. Michele and Emil had this love-hate dynamic that had them laughing with each other one minute and at each others' throats the next.

Jean-Jacques, the self-proclaimed 'king', peacocked and pranced around, attempting to intimidate his fellow competitors. Victor couldn't stand the guy.

His conceit will get the best of him someday. I hope Yuuri's skating can bring the guy down a notch or two.

Little Yuratchka was nowhere to be found, assumed to be keeping a low profile by staying close to Yakov and the rest of the Russian brigade-not surprisingly far away from the two of them.

Then there was the quiet Korean. Seung-Gil was of in a corner in the distance, stretching and also ignoring the hub-bub amongst the louder three men.

The short program sped by and was over in a flash.

Even with the crowd focusing so much on Victor's presence, Yuuri was not deterred, but rather further incited to give it everything he had. He couldn't help himself but put Victor in his place in front of the audience, the cameras and the rest of the skating world. He left Victor stunned with such aggressively passionate words.

"I'll show all of Russia my love."

Yuuri was excited to have blazed past his previous score by four points to set a new personal best. He was high up on cloud nine, spurred on by Victor's display of affection, and their mutual happiness for Yurio, who had also done quite well and was currently behind Yuuri in third place.

They left the kiss and cry, and headed back toward the lounge. They watched most of the Canadian's performance Victor pulled Yuuri's phone from his pocket and gave it to him.

"Here, It vibrated a couple times," he said.

Yuuri saw a missed call and a text from his sister, asking him to call her right away.

"They must be freaking out about my performance," he thought aloud as he dialed her number.

She picked up, and he tone was unexpectedly serious.

"Sorry to bother you during and event, Yuuri..."

As he was deilvered the horrendous news, he held his breath.

It didn't matter that the skater who had just skated took first place for the first half. All that mattered was that Makkachin was not okay. All he could think of was that when his beloved Vic-chan had died, he couldn't be there to say goodbye. He gut turned with anxiety.

He immediately told Victor and implored him to fly back to Japan for Makkachin.

Victor was in such a state of shock. The one friend that had been by his side for half of his life was possibly on his death bed. But he felt such an overwhleming need to stay by his new partner's side, and be the coach and support he knew Yuuri needed. His heart was tearing to pieces, and yet Yuuri was encouraging him to go, and that he could manage on his own. As much as he wanted to go and be there by his canine companion's side, he felt obligated to stay at all costs.

The stressful, urgent decision pressed upon his frantic mind.

Leaving Yuuri alone here in Russia is NOT an option. Not with everything at stake: the competition, his reputation, being all alone tomorrow cannot happen.

He tried to think of all the fellow competitors and coaches he knew here... there was only one option.

Then he heard their voices: Yakov and Yurio.

"Yakov! Thank God!" He exclaimed worriedly. "You're the only coach for me."

Yakov was thoroughly confused by Victor's sudden plea. But the look on his former student's face told the Russian coach something was wrong.

"What, you want to come back?" he jested.

"Can you be Yuuri's coach tomorrow, for just one day?"

There was a pause, followed by a confounded chorus of 'whhhhhaaaaaat?'

Victor went on to explain to Yakov and Yuri about the situation with Makkachin.

"Makkachin is very sick, and might not make it," he told them, eyes wrought with distress.

Yakov knew the boy all too well. That dog had been his only loyal friend since he'd known him.

Losing that dog will be like losing a brother, the older man realized. And the Japanese Yuuri knows that. He's a brave boy to face the Free Program all by himself. But knows Victor that well, I guess.

With a sigh, he accepted.

"Da...Both Yuri's will be in the practice block, and compete back to back. So it is not an inconvenience," he told his former student before turning to the Japanese skater. "Be in the lobby for nine o'clock sharp, young man. We meet, eat breakfast and then go to the practice session."

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir," he replied with a bow.

Yakov just smirked, and looked at Victor. "You owe me one."

Victor nodded and then took Yuuri by the hand and led him out the door.

"I need to grab my things from the hotel first before I go hop a plane," Victor thought aloud.

He hadn't let go of Yuuri's hand, and the brunet knew he needed the support right now. Giving his had a squeeze, Yuuri drew Victor from his worried thoughts.

"I know Makka is older, but if it's just that he's swallowed something, they can get it out a lot of the time," he tried to assure his love. "Vic-chan loved to get his nose into things, and we brought him to a really good veteranarian when he'd get himself into trouble."

The thought was mildly comforting. Victor gave him a small smile.

"Thank you for giving me hope," he replied. "I'm just not ready to lose my Makkachin. He's my best friend."

They got back to the hotel room and Victor scrambled. Yuuri helped him pack his bags.

"Here, hold onto Makka for good luck," Victor said, handing him the tissue box. Yuuri took it and placed it on the bed, preferring to take his worried lover into his arms and console him.

Victor exhaled, trying to let go of some of the stress.

"I'm sorry... I won't be able to stand by you tomorrow," Victor added, his voice thick with regret.

Yuuri gave him a tight squeeze before gripping him firmly by the upper arms and giving him a serious, yet caring gaze.

"Victor, you caring and wanting to be by my side is still standing by me. Even from Japan, I know I have your love and support."

Blue eyes blurred with tears.

"Yuuri...you truly are amazing," he choked out and held his love tight before whispering in Yuuri's ear. "Go show the world how beautiful your love is."

With one last embrace, and a soft kiss on the lips, Victor was out the door.