Yuuri woke to a poodle on his chest and half a conversation drifting in from the kitchen. Victor was speaking to someone in Russian. A few seconds of silence, then Victor's laugh made warmth pool in Yuuri's stomach. He sat up, yawned, and scratched Makkachin. That nap had been an excellent idea.

Victor spoke again, a smile audible in his voice.

Yuuri's stomach twisted. Was he happier without Yuuri present? Maybe he was pretending to like him. What if he was laughing at Yuuri behind his back right now?

Yuuri told his anxiety to shut up. It polka-danced up and down his nerves as he wandered into the living room. Victor glanced up, phone at his ear, and mouthed a word Yuuri couldn't lip-read.

Yuuri shook his head. "Huh?"

"One moment," Victor said. He covered the phone with his hand. "It's Yurio."

"The boy who hates everyone?"

Victor's eyebrows rose at that. After a second, he chuckled and shook his head.

"He's a seventeen year old trying to be tough. Deep down, he's really a good kid."

Yuuri gave him a skeptical look. A good kid? "I'm eighteen."

"Right," Victor said, smile turning brittle. "Pardon me. A good guy."

Yurio's tinny, tiny voice seemed to be saying otherwise through Victor's phone speaker, at least if Yuuri heard his tone correctly. Victor brought the phone back up to his ear.

Yuuri poked around the living room while Victor chatted. He looked for something to distract himself from the problem of how to get back to his own time period. On the window sill, he now saw that the houseplants he had passed over last night were bigger versions of the baby succulents he kept at home. The picture frames held not just art, but photos of Yuuri and Victor with Yuuri's family.

Yuuri's heart twinged. Whether in warmth or pain, he couldn't tell.

The books were now slanting in their shelves. Victor had stacked up Lukyanenko and Heinlein's novels about time travel on the end table. Yuuri turned away from them. He did not need a reminder of how much trouble he was causing Victor by being here.

Victor covered the phone again and called him over. "Yurio wants to talk to you. Is that okay?"

Yuuri bit his lip. "Sure, I guess?"

"Don't worry," Victor whispered, handing the phone over. "He just wants to check that you're alright."

Yuuri raised an eyebrow at that, but brought the phone to his ear.

"Hello?"

"Katsudon." Yurio's voice was like ice. "What the fuck did I see today?"

Yuuri tilted his head, voice dull. "I'm fine, thanks, and how are you?"

Yurio grunted at that. Yuuri could almost hear his eyes roll.

"Whatever. But seriously, what the fuck."

Yuuri glanced around, searching a reply that wouldn't sound too suspicious. It needed to be vague, but not too vague. On the couch, Victor was sorting through his books. He flipped through the pages, brows creased. Perhaps something useful was in there after all.

Yuuri leaned against the counter. "I didn't get much sleep last night."

Yurio muttered something in Russian. "Don't tell me you were playing Smash Bros again."

Yuuri's eyes lit up. Smash Bros? His eyes darted to the videogame console by the television set, heart swelling in his chest.

Better graphics. Better audio. More characters, probably. None of which would be available for years in Yuuri's home time.

"Oh, you know me," he said, trying to contain the smile in his voice. He walked back to Victor's room. "Gotta keep up my gaming skills somehow."

There, that should be vague enough.

Yurio scoffed. "You know I'll kick your ass again. I don't know why you insist on maining Link."

Yuuri squatted down by the bookshelf that held his future self's videogame collection. He pulled Super Smash Bros off the shelf, eyes drinking in the sweet, sweet box art. He was right: several new characters had been added, and they all looked fantastic.

"Because Link is the best, obviously."

"He's barely even mid-tier."

Yuuri huffed, taking the game case back to the living room. Character tiers, the idea that some characters were inherently stronger than others, had never sat well with him.

"Skills are more important than tiers," he said. "If you have to use a high-tier character to win, it means you're not skilled enough."

"Tch. Are you calling me unskilled?"

"What do you think?"

"Fuck it, I'm coming over. Enjoy your day while you still can."

The line went dead, and Yuuri smiled at the phone. That was almost too easy.

Victor looked up from his books. "That sounded fun."

Yuuri coughed, and rubbed the back of his neck.

"I might have provoked him into coming over to play Super Smash Bros. Is that okay?"

Victor's book drooped in his hands. "You're seven years in the future and you want to play videogames?"

"Yes!" Yuuri held up the box. "It has new characters on the cover. I won't be able to play this again for years. I've got to make the most of it while I can!"

Victor stared at him and said nothing. Yuuri felt himself deflating, and tightened his fingers on the box.

"I've been worried about the time travel mess all day. It'd be nice to think about something fun for a while. You can join us if you want." He cleared his throat. "Sorry, I should have asked your permission first. It's your home, after all. I could tell Yurio no when he gets here."

There was a pause. Then, Victor chuckled.

"And miss an opportunity to mess with him? Certainly not."

Yuuri lifted his head, eyes round and bright, and his inner fanboy did somersaults.

A few minutes later, they had a scowl in the shape of a teenager at their door.

"Hello, Yurio!" Victor said.

Yurio waved, then stalked past Victor and leaned up to Yuuri's face.

"You wimped out of training today," Yurio snarled. "And I'm gonna kick your ass for it!"

All Yuuri could think was, He's standing on his tip-toes, and he tried not to laugh. He closed his eyes, already mentally running through all his strategies from previous versions of the game. When he opened them, they were as hard as steel.

He fixed Yurio with an even gaze. "You're on."

Ten minutes later, they were seated in the living room. Or rather, Yuuri was seated on the couch, Yurio sprawled across the rest of the couch and the armrest, and Victor leaned forward over the back of the couch with his arms crossed. Yuuri sent Victor a questioning look. Apparently, this was normal for them.

The disc loaded, the title music played, and Yuuri forgot his concerns about fair seating and couch space. He clicked through to the character select screen, and grinned. The roster was huge.

Each person had to pick a character to play. Yuuri chose Link, the bow and sword-wielding hero from The Legend of Zelda. Link was considered one of the weakest fighters in the game's previous edition. But he was Yuuri's favorite. He had courage and determination that Yuuri had always longed for in his own life.

Also, how else would Yuuri get to throw boomerangs at people?

Victor went with Jigglypuff. Jigglypuff looked like a round, pink marshmallow with cat ears. It appeared sweet and adorable, but had several difficult techniques experts could use to slaughter their competition. Yuuri glanced at Victor from the corner of his eye. Victor was either bad at fighting games, or very good. Yuuri's inner fanboy was jumping up and down in his seat.

Yurio wrinkled his nose. "Jigglypuff is literally the worst character in the game."

Victor shrugged. "Then it shouldn't be hard for you to win, right?"

Yurio squinted at him, then huffed and leaned toward the screen.

"Whatever."

Yurio picked Sonic the Hedgehog, a cocky, sharp-tongued speedster who deep down had a heart of gold. He was also considered a tougher opponent in the Smash Bros franchise than Link or Jigglypuff.

Yuuri pushed his glasses up and leaned forward when the battle started. The graphics and controls were better than the game he had seven years ago, and Link's moves hadn't changed much. But he found subtle differences in the gameplay. Some moves had a shorter range than he remembered, causing him to miss his opponents. Other times, he dashed too quickly, or dropped from a platform when he only meant to crouch.

Yurio took advantage of this. He racked up damage points on Link and sent him flying. But to Yuuri's pleasant surprise, although Link took hits, he was also better now at recovering from those punches and getting back into the fight. The battles hadn't gotten any easier, but he had gotten better.

You and me both, I hope.

As for Victor...

Yeah, he was terrible at this.

All Yuuri's preteen daydreams of squaring off against his idol in pixel combat were shattered. He had thought competitive spirit in skating would carry over into gaming. It certainly did for Yuuri. But no, Victor thought it was funnier to make Jigglypuff vogue for the camera. Yuuri may or may not have targeted him so they could watch that hateful pink marshmallow hurtle off into the sky, with a sad, high-pitched "Jiggleeeee!"

Okay, yeah, Yuuri totally did that.

But Victor laughed at it, too. So there.

Yurio won the match with a shout and pumped his fists in the air. Yuuri clapped once. Victor tried ruffling Yurio's hair, only to pull back when Yurio hissed at him.

"Always so dramatic," said Victor.

Yurio glowered up at him. "Says the guy who set his husband's tie on fire."

Yuuri looked back and forth between them with a raised eyebrow. What was this about?

Victor shrugged. "Yuuri let me." He leaned towards Yuuri and whispered, "Long story."

"It was pretty butt-ugly," Yurio granted.

He flicked back to the character select screen and started another match. He hunched forward, heedless of Victor making bunny-ears with his fingers behind Yurio's head. Yuuri's lip started twitching, and he fought not to give the joke away.

It reminded him of himself and his older sister, Mari. She claimed it was the god-given right of older siblings to annoy the younger ones. Yuuri was starting to see the appeal.

Victor grinned. "Yurio, you may have won the last game. But can your character break-dance?"

Yurio's eye twitched. "I will fucking cut you, Victor."

"Someone's still bitter about the dance-off."

On screen, Sonic hurled Jigglypuff halfway across the battlefield.

"Shut up," Yurio said, mashing buttons. "Just wait till I take my classes on it. I will have my revenge."

Yuuri glanced aside at him. "Breakdancing?"

Yurio rolled his eyes. Sonic shielded to absorb Link's arrows.

"Don't play innocent, Mr. Sixteen-Flutes-of-Champagne. I still get nightmares about that night."

"Sorry?"

"It's a joke, Katsudon."

Yuuri blinked at him, but Yurio's eyes were fixed on the screen. Sonic knocked Link off a ledge. Yuuri jerked and turned back to the television.

Okay then. Older-Yuuri must have had an interesting life. As if winning a World Championship, getting stopped by fans on the street and marrying Victor Nikiforov weren't interesting enough. Honestly, if Yuuri had to be stuck in another time period, this wasn't a bad place to be.

"I'm going to let Makkachin out," said Victor, setting down his controller.

"Hey!" Yurio snapped. "Don't throw the match!"

Victor stood up and tapped Yurio's hair, and Yurio flailed a hand upward and said something that was probably offensive in Russian. Victor laughed and walked out with Makkachin.

Once Victor had left the room, Yurio turned Sonic around and started whaling on the now-helpless Jigglypuff. Yuuri was about to scold him for the cheap shot, but Yurio spoke first.

"Are you two fighting?"

Yuuri's hands slipped on the controller, causing Link to misfire an attack.

He kept his voice level. "Why do you say that?"

"Normally, you're hanging off each other and being gross."

Sonic blasted Jigglypuff off the side of the stage. Yurio's scowl didn't change. He sent Sonic charging after Link.

Yuuri wiped his hands on his pants, then re-gripped his controller and fired arrows at Sonic from a distance. That repelled the hedgehog long enough for Yuuri to catch his breath. He could hardly focus on the battle when he also had to watch out for verbal and social pitfalls.

If Yurio thought Yuuri wasn't being affectionate, how much did older-Yuuri and Victor touch each other, anyway? Yuuri's face flushed at that, and his heart fluttered.

"It's nothing," he said. "We're fine."

Yurio grunted. "If you say so."

After the first two matches, Yuuri alternated between all of the characters who weren't in previous versions of the game. After all, if he managed to get back to his own year, he wouldn't get to do this for ages. It caused him to lose almost every fight to Sonic. But who cared?

Maybe being stuck here wasn't all that bad.

The tenth time they returned to the character select screen, Yurio didn't pick a character. He leaned back on the couch and chewed his lip.

"So," he said, "I got accepted to university."

Yuuri nearly dropped his controller. "That's fantastic! Where is it located?"

"Here. Duh." He scowled and looped his cursor around the screen. "I can't stand the coaches in Moscow."

Yuuri tilted his head. "You don't sound happy about it."

Yurio huffed.

"I didn't get the scholarship I wanted. And Grandpa's not exactly rich."

Yuuri sucked in a breath. His parents had spent many nights poring over bills in low voices, when Yuuri was supposed to be asleep. Their smiles every morning and constant reassurances only worsened the cold weight in his stomach.

"So," he said, "you're worried about the money?"

Yurio's shoulders tensed up, and he pulled his hoodie over his eyes.

"I'm not worried. I won the fucking GPF, asshole. Phichit wishes he had as many sponsors as me."

"So." Yuuri knit his brows. "What's the problem?"

"The problem is that Grandpa lives in Moscow. And he's getting old."

Yuuri's eyes widened. He nodded. His own parents were both healthy, and they had Mari. But their profits on the onsen were slim. If one of them got sick, and Yuuri wasn't around to pick up the slack, then he didn't know what would happen.

He swallowed. "That sounds really hard."

"Yeah, it's fucking hard," Yurio said. "What happens if he has a stroke and I'm on the other side of the country? What if he gets medical bills that we can't afford because I kept competing and went to university here?"

Yuuri winced, leaning away from him. Pointing out the contradiction in Yurio's words would probably make Yurio yell at him again.

Yurio tsk'd, set his character as Sonic again, and clicked through to the next stage and battle at random. Their characters materialized in Hyrule Temple, at opposite ends of one of the biggest battlefields in the game.

They both groaned. It would take ages for their characters to reach each other. Yuuri pressed buttons to see Pac-Man's moves, but didn't absorb them. The match didn't matter to him now.

"What do you think your Grandpa would want you to do?"

Yurio snorted, and the corner of his lip quirked up.

"He's stoic. He could be bleeding out in the damn gutter and still say, follow your heart, Yurochka, don't worry about me."

His voice wavered, and he mashed buttons on the controller, making Sonic dart back and forth.

Yuuri nodded. "That sounds like my parents. They won't even let me see the receipts for skating expenses."

Sonic slammed into Pac-Man. The hedgehog launched into a flurry of kicks.

"Cut the crap, Katsudon. You and Victor have a shit-ton of money."

Yuuri hunched his shoulders. He resisted the urge to smack himself. Of course future-Yuuri, married and internationally successful, wouldn't rely on his parents' funds anymore.

They played the rest of the match out. Sonic kicked Pac-Man's round yellow butt several times, but only because Yuuri wasn't as familiar with the controls for this version of the game. Sonic punted Pac-Man off a cliff. He hurled Pac-Man into the sky. The match ended when Yuuri pressed the wrong button and accidentally threw himself off the cliff.

Yep, definitely the controls.

Yurio didn't smile when the screen congratulated him. "Well?"

"Good game," Yuuri said. "Want to go again?"

Yurio's scowl deepened. "I mean, what do you think I should do?"

That gave Yuuri pause. He fidgeted the joystick on his controller, and bit his lip. He would have to mind his words.

"What do you think you should do?" he tried.

Yurio slammed his controller down on the floor.

"I don't know! Why the hell would I bring it up if I knew what to do?"

Okay, yeah, good point.

Yuuri fidgeted with his buttons. "If you stayed here, you'd be able to skate and go to college at the same time."

"Duh," Yurio said, sprawling back on the couch. "If someone like you can do it, of course I can."

Yuuri jerked his chin up at that. Had future-Yuuri had done both? How? Yuuri had only been accepted to Japanese colleges, and Celestino was in Detroit.

"But then, you've got a sister," Yurio added, shuddering, "who has crap taste in celebrities. But anyway. You knew she'd be there for your parents, while I'm all that my Grandpa has. I can't just leave him, you know?"

"Right."

The game returned to the character select screen. Vivid graphics and pumped-up battle music played over a massive cast of fighters. Dozens of choices. Neither player moved.

Yuuri asked, "What would you regret later if you didn't do it?"

"Not being able to pay for Grandpa's care if something bad happened."

Yuuri swallowed. "Fair."

"But if I left St. Petersburg," Yurio continued, "I'd have to get some crappy Moscow coach, and I couldn't visit Yakov or Lilia. I couldn't kick your ass at games anymore." He glanced over his shoulder. "And Victor's annoying, but he knows his shit. Which reminds me."

Yurio leaned over so that his glare was right in Yuuri's face.

"You better fix whatever's happening between you two. I've got an ice show routine to perfect, and I don't need your soap opera mucking it up."

Yuuri held up his hands and gave him a tight smile. "Will do."

Yurio sat back in his seat, and Yuuri let out a breath. Under Yurio's harsh tone ran a tiny thread of concern. Part of Yuuri felt flattered at that, but the bigger part cringed at another person noticing his unusual behavior. He had barely been able to handle Victor.

Speaking of Victor, why wasn't he back yet? Dogs didn't take that long to do their business.

Wait. Speaking of Victor...

Yuuri's face lit up. "What about asking Victor for help?"

Yurio scrunched up his nose. "I don't want charity, thanks."

"That's not what I meant. You should ask Victor for information."

"What do you mean?"

"He wasn't born rich. And you know how it's almost impossible to make a profit in this sport, even if you're the best. But somehow Victor's made enough to finance his own ice shows?" Yuuri shook his head. "He must be able to squeeze rubles from a stone. Ask him how."

Yurio crossed his arms and frowned at the floor.

"As long as I don't have to put on an act like he does," he muttered.

Yuuri frowned. "What do you mean?"

Yurio raised an eyebrow. "You know what I mean. I'm gonna stick to being me, and not what other people think I should be."

"That's probably wise," Yuuri said.

"If you can have it both ways, I'm sure I can." Yurio snorted. "Yeah, he'll probably know how to do something like this. I'll talk to him, but not today."

He cast another pointed look at Yuuri.

Yuuri raised his shoulders. "What?"

Yurio huffed and rolled his eyes. He picked up his things and turned the console off.

"You're right. There has to be another way. Good game."

"Good game," Yuuri replied as he saw Yurio out.

It was a good game. More fun than the previous edition, in Yuuri's opinion. New Link was better than Old Link in every way, and Yuuri saw no reason to go back.

He paused, game controllers in his hands.

Older-Yuuri's life was better than younger-Yuuri's life. He had friends here. He had fans. He was a world champion, and married to the man of his dreams. Older-Yuuri didn't have to worry about money or figuring out his future. But older-Yuuri wasn't here. This Yuuri was.

If Yuuri stayed here, and lived this life, would it be so bad?

And besides, if he stayed here, he wouldn't have to worry about this version of the future disappearing. He wouldn't have to say goodbye.

Yuuri put away the controllers and turned the television off. The game disk fit snugly into its box, the place where it was meant to be. He cracked open the door to Victor's room.

Victor was crying.