Yes I finally got to write the scene I wanted to write since I came up with this story! Seriously though, it was so much harder than I thought, I revised this so many times because I wanted it to be as good as I could get it. Thanks for all your patience, and enjoy this chapter. I only have one more left to write and that just boggles me... I can't believe how much I've written!

For a long moment after Yakov's statement, Victor and Yuuri stood frozen like mannequins, unable to do anything more than stare at the old man in shock. Yuuri was still bent in front of Victor untying his skate, looking almost like he was worshipping at the altar of Victor's feet whilst Victor himself seemed momentarily unaware of his boyfriend's presence as he stared back at his father like he was struggling to believe the words that had just flown from his mouth. He, however, was the one who recovered first, moving to stand protectively in front of a stooped Yuuri as his piercing eyes fixed on Yakov with an equal intensity.

"Yuuri didn't have anything to do with this," He said, hearing Yuuri stand up behind him and throwing an arm out like he could protect him with his body alone. "It was all me, I was the one who dragged him here and asked him to skate. Don't yell at him for something I did!"

The emotion he didn't want to escape broke in the last sentence and it came out as half a shout, half a plea. Yakov remained motionless. His face was unaffected like it had been set in the hardest stone.

"Victor, this is nothing to do with your foolishness tonight." He barked, stating what they both already knew and what they were dreading. "This is about another matter entirely, one you don't need to be a part of."

"I do though!" Victor close to exploded, throwing both his arms down by his side like he was desperately trying to stop himself from slamming them into the nearest wall. He had already given up on trying to stay calm; once the first piece of emotion had wriggled through, there was no stopping it and he now felt like a dam had bust inside of him. "If it concerns Yuuri, it concerns me too! Don't act like you're not going to talk about us!"

"Victor, go back to the inn. Now." Yakov's tone was sharp and brittle, moments from snapping, but still Victor didn't move to make a step. "I'm being serious Victor. Go."

"I'm not going anywhere!" Victor cried out. "If you think I'm going to go home when you're clearly going to-"

"Vitya, I think maybe you should go back to the inn."

The calm voice interjected into the heated dispute with no warning and the tense atmosphere almost disappeared entirely as both men turned surprised at the man who owned the intruding voice. Yuuri stepped to Victor's side, still not looking comfortable under Yakov's glare, but he stood firm as he took both of Victor's clenched fists and forced him to look into his inviting brown eyes. Under the lights, they looked more gold than brown and Victor could feel his anger dissipating the way it always did when he looked at Yuuri. He gritted his teeth. For once, he wanted the anger to stay, he didn't want it to drain away and leave him just feeling worried. How was he supposed to fight for them if he didn't feel angry?

"Victor, go back to the inn and rest." Yuuri then softly told him, ignoring the surprise on Yakov's face and keeping his eyes on Victor in the way he knew would keep Victor's eyes on him and only him. "You know you'll be tired tomorrow and won't be at your best and then I won't be because I'll be worrying about you. I can handle this, don't worry and when I get back, we'll have tea like I said, OK?"

Victor bit his lip. Yuuri looked so sure of himself, his smile soft and reassuring yet spiking with confidence but he could still sense the brooding presence of his father nearby and he could tell he was slowly losing patience. He had every faith in him but he also knew just what Yakov was capable of and he wouldn't have wished that fate on his worst enemy.

"Are you sure?" He asked, all his misgivings clear in his voice but Yuuri's smile didn't waver.

"I'm sure Vitya, now go." Yuuri smiled, turning him around and giving him a light push towards the exit. Victor glanced over at Yakov who gave a curt growl that made him walk away a little quicker but his eyes kept darting back to Yuuri, his legs feeling like they were moving through honey with his reluctance to leave. He hesitated at the doorway, looking back with an almost pleading glance but it was Yuuri nodding his head in a motion to leave that made him finally disappear. The sound of his footsteps slowly echoed away before they heard the smooth slide of the rink doors echoing through the building where you could now hear a pin drop.

That just left Yuuri alone with Yakov. The two of them stood facing each other, the few feet between them and their stances making it look like they were about to fly into battle. Yakov's face hadn't relaxed one bit from the absence of his son; in fact, under the dim lights, Yuuri could barely see his dark gaze under the brim of his hat. That didn't help any of the unease he felt; he could already feel his nerves coursing through him, striking through his body like an energy that was making him tremble a little. He suddenly wished he hadn't been so quick to send Victor away. Victor may be spontaneous and unpredictable but at least he would have been able to say something in response to whatever Yakov was now going to hurl at him. Yuuri hated any kind of confrontation and sometimes just yelling alone, even if it wasn't directed at him, would be enough to make him a trembling mess. The thought of what could come out of Yakov's mouth was almost enough to make him flee but he stayed firm, clenching his fingers into fists so they wouldn't start shaking by his sides and expose how scared he was. He had to be like a mountain, strong and unyielding.

"So, Mr Feltsman," He asked politely. "What was it you wanted to discuss with me?"

Yakov looked a little taken aback, like he had been expecting something very different, but he quickly recovered his mask. "I don't get you Katsuki."

Now it was Yuuri's turn to be surprised as he blinked at Yakov. "Don't get me?"

"I don't know what's going through your head," Yakov said in way of explanation that Yuuri still blinked at. "You're a really tricky person to read and I'm usually good at reading people. Yet I can't read you and I don't like that. I don't like that at all." He paused as he surveyed Yuuri, clearly scrutinising his reaction. Yuuri just stayed still, trying to keep his face as neutral as possible. He had no idea what Yakov wanted to see. Was there something he was supposed to be doing? "So, I feel like I need to ask you this. What kind of game are you playing?"

Yuuri felt even more confused than before. "I don't get what you mean Sir."

"You know exactly what I mean." Yakov huffed. "What are your intentions towards my son?"

That caused Yuuri to react. He stared back at Yakov in amazement, like he had only just realised he was there. "Do… do you really feel like you need to ask that?"

"Of course I do!" Yakov snapped, his eyes now looking like they were about to bulge from their sockets and his jaw chomping like he was biting off his words. "I have no idea what you're planning! I thought I did, I thought I had you sussed but all this week you've been proving that to be wrong and now I have no clue what's true and what's not!"

"What's… true?" Yuuri felt like he was just repeating the words that were being yelled at him but he wasn't sure what else to do. Nothing was making any sense. Why did Yakov think he had some kind of game? And what was he talking about when he said he thought he had him sussed? "What did you think I was?"

Yakov looked ready to explode at he stared at Yuuri in clear unblinkered shock. "Are you trying to evade this or are you that much of a simpleton?!" He raged. "At the banquet, you were there dancing like a damn stripper and I saw the way you latched on to Victor like a goddamn parasite! There have always been rabid fans after him, wanting to leech off his fame and money, I've been fending them off for years to protect him but you, you were the slipperiest of the lot! You got past me and under his skin and then, just when I think I'm free of you, you turn up in St Petersburg to lure him in again! When my son ran off with you, I came to Vladivostok to get him away and confront you… and you then acted all differently!" Yakov genuinely seemed lost for words, spluttering in the midst of his angry rant as all his thoughts seemed to be racing to get out first. "You were shy and meek… and you easily let us stay in your home and you never got angry with us, even when Yuri and the others were pushing you… and you and Victor, just now with that display… I don't know what to make of you! So, tell me now Yuuri Katsuki; who exactly are you and what are your true intentions?"

The question echoed like the sound of a gunshot, loud and demanding and explosive. For a moment, Yakov didn't think Yuuri would answer; the man just looked too shell-shocked, his mouth dropped open and his eyes watery. He looked close to choking out sobs and that made Yakov uncomfortable. Out of all the reactions he expected, none had involved tears. The sickening silence went on for a little longer and it was bristling on Yakov's skin. He had never liked silence, it was too awkward, too suffocating with its pressure to fill it. He was just about to turn and walk away when he heard Yuuri speak.

"Is that really how you see me?"

Yakov looked back at him and his eyebrows went up in surprise at how different Yuuri's stance had suddenly become. His body was rigid, not in fear but in what looked like carefully contained anger, with his hands balled into fists and his jawline set. His eyes were still wet with tears caught in the corners looking like they were going to run down his cheeks at any point but the brown of his eyes was suddenly crackling like fire, making them look deep wine red. The change was startled and Yakov could almost feel himself doing a double-take but he kept his face passive. He didn't want Yuuri to see that this had affected him in any way.

"What?"

"Is that how you really see me?" Yuuri repeated with more of a crack in his voice. "As just a rabid fan? You think I'm only here because Victor is the famous Victor Nikiforov?"

Yakov didn't even have time to open his mouth before Yuuri had taken a few strides towards him. The look on his face was so unreadable, so alarmingly blank, that Yakov found himself taking a step back on instinct. The boy wasn't thinking of flying at him surely? The thought flashed quickly through his mind in panic. It'll be the last thing he does if he tries…

He closed his eyes, expecting some sort of blow or tirade but instead he heard Yuuri come to a stop and then a frustrated huff of breath. He opens his eyes, only to find Yuuri wasn't even looking at him anymore; instead, his focus was all on the pocket of his trousers where his hands were firmly rummaging around like there was something small inside he couldn't quite get a hold on.

"You want to know what my intentions towards Victor are?" Yuuri almost spat as his head sharply lifted to face Yakov again. His voice was full of contempt as he bit off the word intentions, like he was familiar with what a stuffy and fussy word it was. He didn't even give him a pause to answer before he wrenched his hand free from his pocket and held it out with his palm up and flat. "Here's your answer."

Yakov narrowed his eyes before he looked down at Yuuri's open palm but when he did, they went wide and he had to swallow back a gasp. There, innocently sparkling under the rink lighting, was a gold ring. It sat heavily in Yuuri's palm, his hand shaking like it's symbolic weight was too much for it to bear, and after a long moment, he caged his fingers around it like it was too emotional and private to be out in the open for too long. Yakov found himself speechless as he watched Yuuri peering at the gold sheen through the net of his hand, like he was making sure Yakov's gaze hadn't tainted it in some way. It was still sparkling up at him, defying all his thoughts even as they continued to swirl through his mind. He couldn't be planning to propose to his son, could he? That went against every idea he had had of the flighty good-time dancer he had seen moving seductively at the banquet.

As if he could hear the disbelief that was rattling inside Yakov's head, Yuuri looked up and tentatively opened his palm again, his fingers uncurling like flower petals in bloom. The ring seemed to glow even more, conscious almost of his importance as Yuuri started to speak. His voice started off a little shaky but it didn't take him long to wrestle it under control, sudden passion flaring in his words so that even though they were softly spoken and not shouted, each one still felt like a whip crack in the still air of the rink.

"I've always looked up to Vitya, even when we were both kids," he said. "He was my idol and I started skating because of him. I admired him because he was so beautiful on the ice, he skated like it was the only thing he was born to do. I saw him and the only thing I ever wanted was to skate on the ice beside him as an equal. I never expected to be anything more than his competitor and I didn't dare to try anything more. If it hadn't been for me losing so terribly and drinking so much at the banquet, I never would have had the nerve to talk to Victor, let alone dance with him and act the way everyone says I did!" His cheeks were getting rapidly pinker at the thought but that didn't stop him; in fact, his embarrassment only served to fuel him and he carried on with even more determination than ever, his eyes piecing Yakov's and the older man couldn't look away.

"I didn't intend for that night to happen Sir. That side of me only seems to come out when I'm blackout drunk and I know you don't believe me, but I honestly don't remember a thing from that night. But that doesn't mean I regret it because if it hadn't have happened, I wouldn't be with the man I adore more than anything in the world. I'm no longer just his fan anymore because I know all these things fans just never see. He's not just the great Victor Nikiforov to me, he's Vitya who constantly agonises over the state of his hair and who cries at adverts with dogs in them and who forgets half the promises he makes and then falls over himself to try and fix it. He's not the perfect human being I thought he once was but you know what? He's better than that because he's real and he's mine. I couldn't care less if he stops skating tomorrow and loses all his sponsors and his medals and whatever because I know I'll still be there for him like he's been there for me this past year. The only thing I'm ever going to want from him is his love and that's all I'm going to ask for." His stare continued to fix Yakov to the floor as he paused, his chest heaving like he had just skated his entire program. "I know you don't like me Mr Feltsman and you have every right not to but don't think of me as just a crazy fan or a leech. The only thing I want to be hated for is for being the man who took the great Victor Nikiforov away from the world and made him Victor Katsuki-Nikiforov. That's the only thing I'll ever ask from your son Sir. Those are my intentions."

For what seemed like the longest moment of Yuuri's life, the rink was silent like the ice had taken hold of their throats and they couldn't speak through the numb cold. He could still feel the adrenaline from his words coursing through his system and he felt like he had just performed a dozen quadruple flips all in a row. The ring was still in his palm, the metal warm from him clutching it so tightly and his lungs were only skittishly taking in air but he still didn't move. He didn't feel like he could afford too; Yakov was still standing there, his eyes wide but silent like he was still absorbing everything that Yuuri had just thrown at him. That made him panic. What if this had been the complete wrong thing to do? What if he had just ruined his chances of ever being accepted into Victor's family by having a go at his father-in-law… oh god, he had just had a go at his father-in-law! He bit back a whimper and the urge to flee. This wasn't just anyone too, this was Yakov Feltsman, only the top coach in the entire figure-skating world… Yuuri was certain now. This would be where he met his end and they would find him here in the morning. He could only hope he got a nice funeral.

He was just about to start praying when all of a sudden, Yakov abruptly turned around, his long coat flying out behind him like a cape as he began to walk away. He stalked his way to the doorway whilst Yuuri remained rooted to the floor, his feet suddenly leaden as he tried to process what had just happened. Was he… not going to die? He stared after him, his body still tense like he was expecting a fight but slowly he could feel himself beginning to relax. Yakov reached the exit but then paused in the doorway, looking back with scrutinising eyes again and Yuuri stiffened again.

"Well? Aren't you coming?" Yakov grunted from the doorway, one foot already out of sight. Yuuri just gaped at him.

"Wha-what?"

"I said, aren't you coming?" Yakov repeated gruffly but his voice no longer had the edge to it that Yuuri was so used to hearing. His voice now sounded so different, Yuuri thought for a second that somebody was actually speaking from behind Yakov and he had to blink several times at the man just to make sure. "It's getting late and I know Vitya won't have gone to bed from worrying about you. I want to get back just so I can show him I haven't killed you." He gave a wry smile and a chuckle at that and Yuuri, feeling like a giant weight had just been lifted from him, chuckled back.

"OK," He answered, walking over to Yakov with a smile on his face that he wasn't sure he could wipe away even if he wanted to. "I'm coming."

"Good." Yakov huffed "Took you long enough." He sounded grumpy but he still stepped aside to allow Yuuri to exit the rink first before he went to walk beside him. "You know… I don't think your skating back there was half bad."

Yuuri's smile grew wider and he felt like his chest was going to burst. "Thank you Mr Feltsman." He said, suddenly feeling like he could climb an entire range of mountains in one go with all the emotions rushing inside him. To anyone else, that would have been a mediocre compliment at best but to him, it meant the absolute world and he couldn't help but beam.

"But your landings on the lifts needed a little more finesse," Yakov continued, walking along with his hands firmly in his pockets as Yuuri walked by his side, still smiling happily as they trailed the line of street lamps back down the hill. "And really, Victor was carrying you a lot in that routine, I'll have to build up your strength training when we get back to Russia. And another thing…"

OOO

Just as Yakov had suspected, Victor hadn't gone to bed when he found himself back at the inn. Instead, he was at the bar, his body miserably slumped over a low table as his three siblings crowded around him worriedly like a flock of birds around a pile of seed. Mila and Georgi were exchanging concerned looks over Victor's head, their lips pressed together as they debated what to do whilst Yuri's face just held a mask of boredom as his eyes flicked between the emotional wreck that was his brother and his phone. The only way you could tell that he was really concerned was the way he poked at him every now and again, seemingly checking he was still alive. When Victor finally gave a grunt at one of Yuri's harder pokes, Mila started to gently probe him with questions, having to strain to hear the answers as they were muffled by the tablecloth.

"So, Yakov turned up at the rink and said he wanted to speak alone with Yuuri?"

"Yes."

"And Yuuri told you to leave?"

"Yes."

"And you did?"

"Well, obviously he did or he wouldn't be moping here."

"Yuri, shut up!"

"So, Victor, what you're telling us is that Yakov and your Yuuri are both down at the rink, completely unsupervised and Papa wanted to have a word with him?"

"Mmm-hmm."

"Yeah, he's so dead."

"Yuri!"

"I know!" Victor suddenly wailed, his voice sounding heart-broken. He sat up a little only to them crash back down on the table with his arms flailing and the sight would have been comical to his three siblings if he hadn't been so clearly distraught. "He's going to be so mean to him, I just know it!"

"Victor, you don't know that…" Mila replied, trying to sound reassuring even as she shot a nervous glance at her brothers and found they too looked anxious. They didn't want to voice it in front of Victor but they too were a little worried for Yuuri. They had all experienced their father's displeasure and it wasn't pretty, even when you were used to it. They had all grown to like Yuuri and his soft sweetness but they didn't see how he could get out of this mess.

"But I do!" Victor interrupted with a cry. "He doesn't like Yuuri being with me and now he's going to drive him away! Mila, he looked so angry and scary when I left and I know he's going to yell and Yuuri doesn't like being yelled at, he's going to come back here and hate me and then he'll leave and go to a rink in Outer Mongolia and I'll never see him again!"

"Victor, I really don't think that's going to happen." Mila said, using her strength to push Victor back up into a floppy sitting position. "We all know how scary Papa can be but just because he yells at Yuuri doesn't mean he's going to hate you."

"Yeah Victor, you must have faith in him." Georgi added. "True love will always find a way to break through…"

"Might not help if Yuuri's broken though." Yuri grunted under his breath. His voice was quiet but it was still loud enough for Victor to hear and it made him give another melodramatic wail.

"I don't want Yuuri to come back in pieces!" He sobbed, leaning heavily on Mila and causing her to turn and glare furiously at her younger brother.

"He won't!" She insisted, shoving him back with enough force to nearly make him topple over. He pouted at her like an injured puppy but she just ignored it. "Yuuri's a lot tougher than you think. He'll be fine."

"A lesser man would have been long gone by now. That shows he really wants to stand by you until the bitter end." Georgi pointed out, his eyes watering with the romance of it all. "It's so beautiful…"

"Yeah, stop being sappy already." Yuri reluctantly grumbled, putting down his phone so he could look Victor directly in the eyes as he jabbed a finger at him. "Katsudon will be OK, he's tough. I've seen him do ballet so I know he's tough. And so what if Papa doesn't approve of you two? It didn't stop you before at St Petersburg. You guys could just elope somewhere else… that way I wouldn't have to see you being disgusting all the time."

"Yuri." Mila warned her brother, stopping him before he could insult them again, but there was a fond smile on her face. Victor was smiling again too, his lips perked up happily as he blinked away his tears.

"Thanks, I needed to hear that." He said and Yuri just huffed.

"Whatever idiot." He said, reaching back for his phone and holding it up in front of him like a cross to ward away emotions. Nobody commented on it but they could all see the pleased pink colour rising on his cheeks. It made the three of them want to ruffle his hair but none of them attempted it. They still wanted to keep their hands after all.

It was then when they heard the creak of the front door opening and all four of them tensed up. Their heads all turned sharply in the direction of the sound, their ears straining to hear any human sounds coming from the door. Victor in particular looked like he was going to explode, hovering in a half-standing position as he stared at the door, his ears tuned towards it, listening out for a snappy voice, a low growl or a sob. What he didn't expect to hear was laughing.

The sound of his boyfriend's laughter was so unexpected and startling, he almost fell backwards onto Mila and Georgi, who were similarly staring at the door with stunned expressions. Even Yuri poked his head up at the sound like he couldn't believe his ears. The sound continued to bubble from the next room, getting softly louder as a pair of footsteps came closer and Yuuri suddenly appeared, walking into the bar casually like he hadn't just been in the lion's den. He looked up and his eyes widened at the scene in front of him, all four of Yakov's children sitting around the same table staring at him with their mouths open, but he was smiling warmly as he addressed them.

"Are you all OK?" he asked, surveying them all as they remained frozen in place, still gaping at him like he was an apparition. None of them could believe it; instead of looking close to mauled as they had expected, Yuuri just looked happy. It was practically radiating off him like an aura, his eyes glowing and his smile wide. His cheeks were flushed a deep pink and they only got steadily pinker when he caught Victor staring at him like he had been gone for several years instead of barely half an hour.

"Are we OK?" Victor nearly knocked the table flying as he got to his feet, striding over to meet Yuuri and grasping both of his hands in his own. His grip got tighter when they heard more footsteps and he looked just past Yuuri and saw Yakov standing at the doorway, watching them with his usual grumpy expression. "Are you OK Yuuri? What happened, what did he say, are you-"

Victor was cut off when Yuuri calmly raised a finger and pressed it to his lips, the touch gentle as the brush of a petal but still enough to halt Victor's panic. "I'm alright Vitya," He said, his smile growing wider as he looked up at him with eyes that held nothing but love. "Everything is alright now."

He felt more than heard Victor's gasp on his finger as the explosive meaning of his sentence fully sunk in. For a long moment, his blue eyes just stared into Yuuri's, flashing with a strange cocktail of joy and fear, like he was too scared to hope that what Yuuri meant was true. "Really?" He whispered, his voice ragged like he had just climbed the hill to the Ice Castle a thousand times. "Are you serious?" His face lifted when Yuuri gave a firm nod, the surest he had ever seen. Then, still in disbelief, he turned to Yakov who hadn't moved from the doorway. There was a pause as the old man's eyes moved back and forth between the pair before he too gave a single confirming, almost earth-shattering nod.

And that was all Victor needed.

He catapulted himself at Yuuri, sending the two of them flying backwards as he wrapped his arms around him and brought their lips together in a deep kiss. Yuuri's back hit the floor hard, jolting their lips apart and slamming a shriek of his boyfriend's name out of him. Victor didn't seem to hear him however as he was too busy planting kisses on every inch of Yuuri's face he could reach with all the enthusiasum of a young puppy.

"Victor!" Yuuri cried out again but he couldn't sound stern at all; he was too busy laughing at the ticklish feeling of Victor's hair fanning on his face and his grin was too wide. He could hear Mila squealing loudly from the table, clapping her hands excitedly as Georgi went to swoon and Yuri gave a snort.

"Stupid idiots…" He mumbled but the insult didn't have any of its usual malice in it. Instead he almost sounded fond of them and that only made Yuuri grin even more.

"Victor, get off the man and let him breathe!" Yakov suddenly barked as he strode from the doorway towards the bar. The expression on his face was tired and he looked like he needed a stiff drink but Victor could read his face well enough to notice the small smile he was trying and failing to hide. "Just because I agreed to this doesn't mean I want you two smooching at the rink mind. You two will have to keep a certain distance away if you're ever going to train."

Victor didn't even seem to register Yakov's words; his eyes were only focused on Yuuri's, their foreheads pressed together firmly like he couldn't bear for even a centimetre of space between them. "I still can't believe this," He whispered, his voice choked by the happy tears that were filling his aqua eyes and threatening to fall. "I still can't believe you're mine and I don't have to hide it anymore."

"I know Vitya." Yuuri answered, cupping Victor's cheeks as he drew him in for another quick kiss. It was funny really; he never could have dreamed that here, lying on the floor of the bar in his parent's hot springs, being close to crushed by his skating idol and love of his life, being watched by his love's entire family who were either cooing or groaning at them, he could feel this happy. He melted away from Victor's touch and angled his head so he could see the others sitting at the table. Mila shot him two thumbs-up and a sly wink, Georgi looked like he was crying and Yurio had his tongue stuck out whilst Yakov just looked exhausted as he poured himself a large tumbler of sake. He laughed as Victor gently cupped his cheek and moved his face back to his, his eyes never leaving his own as they glimmered like ice crystals.

So, this is what it feels like to be accepted, Yuuri thought as his own tears of happiness finally spilled. I could get used to this.