Six

Dancing queen, young and sweet, only seventeen! Dancing queen, feel the beat of the tambourine, oooh yeah! You can dance, you can jive, having the time of your life-

Yuuri pushed the snooze button and then squeezed his eyes shut again. He didn't want to look. Didn't want to look... he cracked one eye open and cursed. Loudly. He threw the pillow beneath his head across the room. He pounded the mattress with his fists and feet like a toddler throwing a tantrum. It didn't change anything. It was still the 24th of November.

Furious, he threw on clothes and only grabbed his glasses and wallet, leaving his bags behind. He stormed down through the hotel and then out onto the sidewalk. Half a block north he spotted Victor's silver hair glinting in the morning sunlight. Yuuri marched right up to him, took Victor's shocked face between his hands, and kissed him full on the mouth. Victor stood frozen for two full seconds before dropping his bag and wrapping his arms around Yuuri's shoulders.

They kissed madly, desperately, deeply. By the time they broke apart, they were both gasping for breath.

"Yuuri," Victor purred, "that was... well that was unexpected. May I know to what I owe the pleasure?"

"I've wanted to do that since I was a teenager. And you're not going to remember it in the morning, so what the hell."

"Not going to rem- Yuuri, if you think a kiss like that is even remotely possible to forget, you're gravely mistaken. I'll be telling my great grandchildren about that kiss on my deathbed." He grinned.

"No, you won't. Because nothing ever goes forward, and this day never fucking ends. But that doesn't mean that I can't enjoy it. Do you have your ID with you?"

"Ah, yes?" Victor looked more and more confused by the moment.

"Good. I think we need it to get on the train. Come on."

"Where are we going?"

"You're going to take me to St Petersburg. I've always wanted to see where you live."

"Wha- we can't go now. We have the free skate tonight."

"That damn free skate is every night! Don't you see, Victor? We're stuck in a loop that there's no way to break out of. So why bother putting ourselves through it? Why not just enjoy the time we have together and be grateful for it?"

Victor studied him for several minutes in silence, as if trying to see the deeper meaning behind his words. Finally, he nodded. "You're right. Let's go. Wherever you want, Yuuri."

In that moment, Yuuri loved Victor more than he'd ever loved another living soul. Because Victor didn't have the memories of the time they'd already shared together except the banquet. And still, he was willing to leave everything behind and follow Yuuri just like that. He had no real idea what Yuuri was even talking about. Probably thought it was a giant metaphor about their careers or the pressure of skating. But that didn't matter to him. If Yuuri was going, then he would go too.

Yuuri kissed him again, took his hand, and together they went to the train station.

On the train, Yuuri asked Victor about his childhood. About his parents before they'd passed away, about the dogs he'd raised, about the lovers he'd had. Victor spoke as if a damn had broken. It was like every mundane detail of his life had been stored up behind the wall of his skating career and for the first time, they were flowing free, crashing to the fore and spilling out of him at breakneck speed.

Yuuri learned so much, not about Victor Nikiforov, the man he'd idolized, but about just Victor, an impulsive, quirky man who still believed in old-fashioned romance. By the time they arrived in St Petersburg that afternoon, Yuuri and Victor were practically on top of each other, wanting to be as close as physically possible. Eager as children, they went into the city. Victor showed Yuuri his home rink, his favorite restaurant, and the shop that made the best coffee in town. They went to the kennel and picked up Victor's dog. Makkachin greeted Yuuri like an old friend, licking his face and barking happily. Then they went to Victor's apartment.

They snuggled together on the couch, discussing philosophy, religion, movies, books, anything they could think of. Their lips met at regular intervals, the kisses deep and unhurried. By the time the sky had grown dark, Yuuri was laying on Victor's bare chest while they ate pretzels and sipped icy vodka.

"I wish you were going to remember this tomorrow," Yuuri whispered.

"You said something like that before, moya lyubov, but you don't seem to believe me when I say that there is no way I could ever forget this. No matter how much vodka we drink."

"You don't understand. It's not the liquor. You won't forget, it just won't have happened for you. You'll wake up tomorrow and it'll be Friday the 24th, and you'll go about your day without any memory of this at all."

"Yuuri-"

"No! I know it sounds crazy, but it's been happening over and over again. I've relived this day more than half a dozen times now. It just keeps repeating, no matter what I do."

"I... Yuuri, I don't understand. You're not making any sense."

"I know. If I was you I wouldn't believe me either. But it doesn't matter if you think I'm crazy, because even if you hate me by tonight you'll be totally reset by morning. So none of this even matters."

There was a long silence, and Yuuri almost feared Victor was going to throw him out, or call him a lunatic. Instead, he pushed Yuuri back until their faces were level. "If that's true, then why come here with me? Why spend all this time talking to me and getting to know me and being with me? You could do anything at all."

"You won't remember, but I will. When I wake up in the morning, I'll still know your favorite color is green and that you hate pickled beets. I'll have the memory of holding you like this, the knowledge of what your chest looks like in the moonlight. I wouldn't trade those things for anything else in the world."

Victor brushed Yuuri's hair from his eyes and then cupped his cheek. "I may not understand what's going on, but if you really believe what you're saying is true, then that's the most beautiful compliment anyone has ever paid me."

They fell asleep holding each other, basking in the warmth of mutual adoration. Tomorrow, Yuuri thought as he drifted off, I'm going to choreograph a program about this feeling.