Apparently I wasn't the only one to be on break. My inspiration took a vacation as well.

{Picture: Viktor Nikiforov in center, Christophe Giacometti on left, Georgi Popovich on right}

European Championship Ends in Russian Victory

Russia's Viktor Nikiforov, 27, has never failed to disappoint in what some speculated to be his last season. His performances make many doubt that he will retire anytime soon.

Nikiforov's rink mate, Georgi Popovich, joined him on the podium with the bronze medal after a scuffle with Christophe Giacometti over silver.

Yakov did not react well to his suggestion of Hellfire as music for either of his programs. In fact, the aged coach had launched into a tirade of reasons as to why it was not an appropriate song to skate to at all.

That had never stopped Viktor before.

So what if he still had half a year to "get it out of his system", as Yakov had put it? He had the same amount of time to decide his short program and his theme as well.

With the way things were going, Eros was going to become his short program and next year's theme would probably be either "possession" or "greed".

"You know, there are other more fitting songs to skate to than 'Hellfire'," a voice said on his right. Viktor looked over to Chris, who plopped himself down on the bench with him. "But you never were the subtle type, were you?"

"Shouldn't you be rehearsing for the exhibition tonight?" Viktor asked as the Swiss took a drink from his water bottle.

"I'm bored of my exhibition," Chris sighed with a sad note. "But then I heard your rink mate mention you skating to Hellfire. I couldn't tell if he was serious or joking, but I can't let you outshine me at the gala with that."

Many people would have been quick to correct Chris that the gala wasn't a contest. That it was supposed to be a fun time without the pressure of performing better than anyone. What many people didn't know was that even in the gala exhibition, figure skaters were still trying to outdo each other in terms of who was perfect, who was outrageous, and who could send their coach to the hospital due to shock. (That category was a toss-up between Viktor and Emil Nekola of the Czech Republic.) Nevertheless, Viktor could only offer a shrug to the king of the unspoken gala champion.

"Really, if you're considering Hellfire, you must be that infatuated or you must hate the fact that you're so infatuated," the Swiss continued. "So tell me: who is Esmeralda?"

Viktor was rather reluctant to open his mouth because just thinking about the woman who haunted his mind also dredged up unwanted thoughts of her lover. The speed skater from China who shouldn't have been able to come her way. Yet there they were, and here he was, wanting a woman who was clearly off-limits. Was it so bad that he felt like this? Things that were deemed untouchable always made them more desirable.

This, however, was the first time that wanting the forbidden sickened him, as if all the other forbidden fruits he had ever indulged upon finally caught up to punish him. Was it because he knew that what he wanted now would always be out of his reach? Or because what he desired was near yet guarded closely so that he could never approach?

Chris seemed to take notice of his lack of response and his eyes widened. "Oh." The Swiss smirked as he leaned closer and whispered, "Does this have anything to do with the little Japanese lady who invited you to dance in Sochi?"

By now, it was pointless to say otherwise. On the ice, Chris could accept the loss of gold with grace. But in terms of gossip, he was relentless. Christophe Giacometti had dirt on just about everyone skating in the international circuit. If he didn't, then one way or another he would find out and—by God—he was a bloodhound for gossip. If Chris put as much effort into stealing the gold from Viktor as he did in collecting blackmail material, he would be the reigning champion by now.

But Chris didn't need a verbal confirmation from Viktor, not when silence told him more. Chris laughed as he abruptly smacked Viktor's back, knocking the wind out of him. "I can already see her face when she learns that you have a crush on her! She'll be as red as the borscht you eat, Vitya!"

It wasn't too hard to visualize the woman who plagued his mind with a face as red as a beet. Back in Sochi, Yūri Katsuki had been various shades of red, many of which Viktor could associate with discomfort. Which was why he answered with certainty, "I don't think she'll be ecstatic about that."

Chris cocked his head and raised an eyebrow. "No? But I know she had a crush on you." At this, Viktor couldn't help but feel hopeful. Until Chris brought it all crashing down in one sentence. "When I was in Juniors, half the girls in singles had a crush on you."

Viktor felt something in him plummet. Of course the girls during Chris' time as a Junior had a crush on him. So did the female fans who cheered him on at every competition; the girls who pushed and shoved for a chance to come near him at the end; who all professed their love for him. And all Viktor gave them in return for their love was a smile and a thank you and a commemorative photo.

That was all he would give. Because he knew that the love they gave him wouldn't last. That their 'love' was merely a mislabeled admiration that would vanish if he so much as slipped up and revealed that he was by no means the perfect being they saw him as.

While Viktor had felt happy for a brief moment that Yūri Katsuki had had a crush on him during her Junior years, she had most certainly outgrown it by now. "She already has a boyfriend."

Chris made a noise that sounded like it was meant as a scoff but came out a parched laugh. The Swiss reached for his water bottle again. "So? Has that ever stopped you from getting what you want?" Chris tossed his head back as he took several gulps of water. Viktor watched as his best friend's eyes opened abruptly, filling with confusion before widening in shock as he choked on his next gulp. Water spewed and heads turned as the Russian thumped the hacking Swiss' back.

When Chris regained control of his lungs, he cleared his throat before taking another drink. The second he swallowed, Chris' head spun towards Viktor. "Vraiment? Yūri a un petit ami?"

As figure skaters skating in the international circuit, knowing more than one language came as a boon, especially when one was conducting an interview and an interpreter had yet to arrive. French had been the first foreign language Viktor learned, though he later gave into Yakov's request to learn English. So Viktor understood every word of what Chris had said, but the news of Yūri Katsuki's boyfriend must have shocked him that much if the Swiss had relapsed into French.

"Oui," Viktor replied in the same language.

Chris grabbed Viktor by the front of his jacket and practically shook him. "Tell me now, Vitya!" he begged. "Who is the lucky one? Who? Who!"

"Chris! Get a hold of yourself!" Viktor held his friend's wrists to make him stopped shaking him. The Russian knew that the Swiss already had a lover back home. Why was he so interested in Yūri's boyfriend? "You met him already at the banquet in Sochi. He was the speed skater."

Chris' grip on his jacket slackened, jaw dropping in awe. "The speed skater? She is dating that speed skater?" he said incredulously. The Swiss slowly let go of the Russian and rested his chin on a palm, staring at the ice dazedly. "Wow…" he mumbled.

"Is it really that surprising?" Viktor wondered. "A woman as beautiful as her should have had plenty of boyfriends in the past."

Chris looked at him again, looking pleasantly amused while a corner of his mouth twitched. The Swiss turned in the opposite direction and roared in laughter, once again drawing attention to themselves as Chris then fell off the bench. Laughter then became short breaths as he tried to calm himself. "Oh, Vitya…" he finally gasped. "You really do have it bad…"

"Oh?" Viktor replied with a smile of his own, hoping that his expression would make Chris forget Viktor's earlier annoyance when the Swiss found a joke in his words. "You seem to know more than I do, Chris. Do you mind sharing?"

Chris ran a hand over his face, stroking over his stubbly chin. He looked like he was deep in thought, or maybe he was trying to recall something from his younger years. He would have looked like a wise man if it weren't for the fact that he was still on the floor with only his calves on the bench. Instead he resembled a lovesick man, except that was what Viktor was and Chris was supposed to be the friend who gave reliable but dubious advice. "Since she was a girl, I only ever met her during the galas and the banquets. But…I do remember that Yūri…when we were still Juniors, she was…how do I say…" Chris seemed to struggle with his words as he rubbed his fingers together, as though that would spark the words he was looking for. "…not brave," he decided with a reluctant expression.

"You mean she's shy?" Viktor suggested.

"Yes!" Chris clapped his hands together, beaming. "She is shy! Yūri is never one to take the lead. But the banquet…" The Swiss heaved himself up by his legs, grunting as he returned to his spot on the bench. "I've never seen her like that before."

"She's probably changed from her Junior years."

Chris nodded in consideration. "Perhaps…but I'm willing to bet that the speed skater made the first move and Yūri couldn't bring herself to say no. Though I can't really blame her. Have you seen the thighs on those speed skaters?" The Swiss skater licked his lips, most likely imagining a speed skater's best…assets.

Viktor stifled a laugh as he tried to ignore the urge to roll his eyes. "Moving on from their thunder thighs—"

"I mean, that ass on the Dutch at the Olympics—" Chris paused as though he realized how inappropriate his monologue was in public, making Viktor laugh at the impossibility. Christophe Giacometti had no shame. Whatever dignity he had left was likely to be microscopic. And that shred of dignity could not have made Chris stop his thorough description of a speed skater's physique and furrow his brow as though he realized how wrong he was. "How did the speed skater get that close to Yūri?" he asked, turning to Viktor. "Is he a pen pal?"

"At the banquet, she said that they attend the same college," Viktor said, blinking at the abrupt change in topic.

Chris nodded slowly with an uncertain look in his eyes. "So he's an American."

"He's skating for China."

"Is he?" Chris whipped out his phone and unlocked it. "You seem to have done some research on him, Vitya," he added, wiggling his eyebrows at Viktor.

"Only for the same reason you are."

Chris only hummed as he read over what he had found on the Chinese speed skater. Whatever it was had to have been something to him if it made the Swiss' eyebrows rise until they vanished into his hairline. "…This is not possible," he murmured with a shake of his head. Chris locked his phone as he held his chin. "How in the world...?"

"Something wrong?" Viktor asked.

"There's no way he should have been able to get near her," Chris said as he narrowed his eyes. "Speed skaters don't have the luxury of changing their home rinks as easily as us. They have to stay within their country."

"He returned to China just last month."

"I know that." The Swiss skater stared at his phone as though it had offended him in some way. "But what worries me is what he was doing to Yūri in Detroit."

With the evening came the gala exhibition, bringing with it the figure skaters in all of their unrestrained glory. Competition dulled most of the fun in skating while the gala revived it. As the gold medalist, Viktor would be last to skate.

And there he was, waiting in the darkness until the lights turned on where he stood in the center of the ice. He skated slowly, as though he were reflecting on his sins. And Viktor had plenty of things to reflect on.

Wanting a marked woman—one who was clearly forbidden to him—was a prime example.

Viktor had plenty of relationships in the past—strike that, he had connections but none of them ever lasted or made him feel content enough to qualify as a relationship. He could snap his fingers and have anyone he wanted at his side, but they would never truly have his heart.

But now he wanted somebody. Not as a short fling to be forgotten, but as a permanent fixture in his life. Somebody who he could trust his heart with as readily as many others had shoved theirs into Viktor's hands for him to have.

And that…that terrified him. At the same time he wanted Yūri Katsuki to be his, she terrified him. How could she have that great a hold over him? How could she make him want to hold her in his arms and never let her go?

"'No matter what, Yūri will always return to me.'"

Viktor gritted his teeth at the unwelcome intrusion within his mind. Was it because of him? Was it because of that arrogant declaration of Yūri's loyalty that he wanted her? Had Viktor desired Yūri Katsuki not to have her, but to prove that pretentious speed skater wrong? If that were true, then Viktor should have felt nothing towards her.

But he did. Viktor wanted to know that loyalty for himself, even though Yūri would have to betray her current lover in order for Viktor to have a taste. The speed skater taunted him by using her as the bait, but Yūri had been the one to ensnare him with her own charm. The banquet in Sochi had set his blood ablaze, an inferno that would consume him if he didn't have her.

It wasn't fair! The only reason the speed skater could be so arrogant was because he was young. With his haughty disposition, Yūri was probably his first love. Everyone thought that their first love would last forever. The Chinese man would probably fight tooth and nail just to keep her.

Viktor could only imagine how devastated the speed skater would be when he finally loses her.

Once his exhibition was finished, the audience began to clap. Among the applause were hollers and whistles that Viktor knew were from Chris. Speaking of the Swiss skater…

Viktor rose from his ending pose and gestured not just for Chris to join him, but everyone else. As the king of the ice, he had to invite everyone back to the rink to properly end the show. And they all came waving to the audience, some performing spins and even a pair skating couple demonstrating a lift.

Chris joined him at his hip, smirking with glee. "I can't believe you actually went through with that," Chris muttered as Emil Nekola performed two back flips in a row. Even in the darkness, Viktor could see that the audience had been on the edge of their seats after the first one.

"I can't believe the designer went through with that," Viktor said. "That" happened to be Chris' exhibition costume, which would not have been out of place in a more, ahem, private setting. But Chris, the most lascivious skater that ever lived, hardly noticed the double takes from the officials and reporters. Not when he was enjoying the reactions from their fellow skaters. The male Crispino twin's flustered outburst was the most amusing by far.

Chris laughed. "Where do you get off trying to shame me? You're the one who skated to a song about getting a boner over a girl!"

"And you're the one who skated to a song about getting laid!"

A pregnant pause hung in the air before the two doubled over with laughter. Chris held onto his shoulders unsteadily until his knees gave way and he dragged Viktor down onto the ice with him.

[EC Hellfire on Ice~Viktor Nikiforov EX]

{Holy crap #european championships #gala #viktor nikiforov #hellfire}

{is this 4 real? #ec gala #viktor nikiforov #hellfire}

{Viktor Nikiforov just skated to hunchback of notre dame's hellfire. I'm dead. #ec gala #hunchback of notre dame #viktor nikiforov #hellfire }

{A world class figure skater just skated to a song about getting a boner and i just can't anymore }

{I can never watch The Hunchback of Notre Dame the same way again}

{Are you complaining?}

{Hell no! Viktor pulls off Hellfire better than Frollo}

{He's better looking too }

Yakov's face when he met him in the lobby with Georgi and Mila was far from pleased. His coach looked as though he had just discovered the smetana he'd meant to use for his borscht had gone rancid. Maybe it was because the lack of a certain Russian Fairy made Yakov believe Yuri was up to no good wherever he was. "You skated to Hellfire." The words came out of his mouth more like an accusation than a fact.

"I did," Viktor said pleasantly.

"And you didn't look like a fool." Yakov's face seemed to lose some of its edge, softening into an expression that resembled relief. "But that doesn't mean I'll allow you to skate to this again. You're going back to the exhibition we agreed upon for the World Championships, understand?"

Viktor hummed in consideration. If Yakov was annoyed by his response or lack thereof, he didn't show it as they prepared to leave the arena.

"He's shocked that you went through with it," Georgi said when they had fallen back enough that Yakov and Mila couldn't hear them. "Coach Yakov thought you were joking about Hellfire."

"Yakov should know by now that I take my music seriously," Viktor responded.

A hard kick to the back nearly knocked Viktor off of his feet, but the living legend regained his footing and walked on unfazed even as his youngest rink mate stalked alongside him. He'd thought that their group had seemed small earlier. Then he remembered that with most of his students in the lineups for Europeans, Yakov had refused to leave his Junior skater alone in Saint Petersburg. "Hello, Yura."

"What the hell was that, old man?" Yuri snarled, throwing a sideways glare.

"You shouldn't talk like that here, Yuri," Georgi warned as they hurried past some reporters who had their backs turned to them as they interviewed Chris.

"I wasn't talking to you, Georgi," the teenager snapped. Viktor slowed down as he looked at Georgi, jerking his head towards Mila and Yakov up ahead. Getting the message, Georgi picked up his pace and left the two alone.

"Well?"

"You mean my exhibition?" Viktor said with an amicable air as though they were discussing dinner. Scratch that, it was a horrible comparison because even then Yuri would claim he didn't care then proceed to complain before finally eating with reluctant satisfaction. Just like a cat. "I wanted to surprise the audience. It was quite dramatic, don't you think?"

"Dramatic?" Yuri scoffed. "It was disgusting. Hellfire, old man? You looked like a creep!"

Viktor stopped and turned to face Yuri properly. Like this, he could see his anger and disgust coupled with the knowledge of who the program had been centered around; could see his hands shoved into his pockets in a near attempt to contain his own rage. "Are you actually worried about me?"

"Don't waste your breath, old man," Yuri growled, trying to make himself look bigger by stomping one foot into Viktor's personal space. "Not everybody cares about you."

"No, no," Viktor agreed, leaning forward with a smile on his face. "Some of us care about women who wouldn't even dream of giving little boys like you a second glance."

If he hadn't known Yuri so well—and if it hadn't been for Yūri's appearance at the Sochi Grand Prix Final—Viktor would never have been able to predict when to catch the hand that flew out in anger towards his face. As Yuri tried to pull his wrist from the older Russian's grip, Viktor took the chance to forcefully lower the boy's hand as a reporter came towards them. "You'll be going into the senior division next season. I would hate for you to start so poorly because you can't keep your anger in check, Yurotchka."

"Mister Nikiforov! Do you have a moment to talk about your exhibition?" Yuri jerked his hand away and Viktor turned to address the reporter. He registered the sound of Yuri walking away from him before the footsteps behind him stopped.

"At least I'm not jealous because some fucking speed demon made fun of me!"

{Just saw Yuri Plisetsky screaming at Viktor Nikiforov after the EC gala}

{Really? What for?}

{Video or it never happened}

{[link] i thought you'd say that}

{...it's not english}

{No duh. Yuri's screaming in Russian}

{What's he saying?}

{I can make out the words because, damn, and demon}

{You're on the right track. He's saying that at least he's not jealous because some speed demon(?) made fun of him}

{Speed demon?}

{Who knows}

In case you don't know, skaters both disciplines of speed skating have large glutes and quads since they use those muscles in their sports. So yes, Chris totally thinks Yūri is dating a speed skater for his thighs.

Translations:

Vraiment? Yūri a un petit ami?—Really? Yūri has a boyfriend?