4.
Victor stared at the three cellophane bags in front of him. They were lovely wrapped, each with a different ribbon, like someone really did care for him. But his experiences as a famous figure skater told him otherwise. Don't trust presents, especially food, you never know if someone wants you vomiting for hours instead of competing. Since being at the top for several years meant having the most opponents at the same time. And some of them weren't just watching jealously from the sidelines.
Fetching his phone he tried to ignore the bags and wrote Yurio a quick message.
Yurio: What?
Victor: Yuuri asked me to give you his number because you forgot some stuff at the inn. Please send him your address. :)
Yurio: Got it.
Victor: Yurio?
Victor: Yurioooo? I can see that you're online.
Yurio: I'm not answering to that name. ┌∩┐
Victor: Has anything strange happened to you while your stay in Hasetsu?
Yurio: Just spill. And leave me alone then. It's two in the morning over here.
Victor: For a couple of days I'm discovering bags with my favorite candy dangling in front of my locker, tied to my door at Yu-Topia or attachted to Makka's collar. Vatrushka, chak-chak, pastilas ... No message, no name.
Yurio: Must be a hardcore fan.
Victor: Think so?
Yurio: Remember the article where the Russian team was asked about their favorite food, sweets and candys? Someone is giving you your answers as a present.
Victor: Why breaking in instead of giving me the sweets in person?
Yurio: You idiot. Do you really think someone breaks into the Onsen and goes right in front of your room in order to leave some candy!? (;O´)o It was someone who has access and is always with you that's why he knows your damn locker. Use your brain for once!
Victor: #^.^# You mean ...?
Yurio: I don't mean anything. Wouldn't share my cookies if your life depended on it!
So next time Yuuri could spare a little time for his secret hobby he had another unexpected visitor.
"Yuuri!" Victor shouted joyfully as he barged in the kitchen of Yu-Topia. "Yurio texted me you can bake! Why was he allowed to eat your recipes but not me?"
He looked up from the dozens of gift bags filled with cookies he had the tie up with a ribbon yet.
"Do you feel stressed?" Viktor leaned over the counter as far as possible. "As your coach I'm here to help you relax, too. Before you sneak away and gobble all those of cookies."
Yuuri flushed at his suggestion but replied nevertheless so that he didn't catch how Victor scanned the gift bags, comparing the foil and the ribbons to his almost identical ones which were lying on his bed upstairs.
"Those are not for me." Yuuri answered rapidly. "I'm helping Mari-nee to bake some as a small welcome gift for our visitors. Sometimes I'm baking a cake for the elderly home down the street or Minako's dance class after a successful competition. In middle school I often helped at Ice Castle if they had to celebrate a children birthday party at the rink or ..."
Victor almost sparkled form joy as Yuuri rambled on. Since his stay in Japan he'd never spoken so freely to the Russian.
"It's different from skating. There's no pressure in it, because I can always make a new batch or try other ornaments. With a good routine I can amaze someone for a couple of minutes. Baking is more subtle, slow-burning way of showing my ... gratitude." Almost he had said 'affection' but stopped in time. Victor should never know that he fantasized about him eating his creations with gusto. Dreamed that he would like to kiss away the crumbs that stick on the corner of Victor's mouth.
Hopefully his little treats helped Victor feeling at home since Yuuri feared the most that his idol could be tired of Hasetsu by now. Or worse: tired of Yuuri himself.
"May I have one, too?," Victor asked.
"S-sure." Yuuri's finger trembled as he offered a biscuit that his coach took with a dazzling smile.
"Vkusno!"
In the end Victor ate five and even looked for older ones safely boxed in the storage room.
Yuuri had no idea how thrilling achieving a gold medal might be. But he felt like he'd won gold at the GPF this instant.