A/N: Hello reader! I finished this chapter pretty early on, so I've decided to post it a day early. Not much note to put here except that I did insert some Romanized Russian into this chapter which are likely to be used pretty often for the rest of the story. SO, to make this easier on all of us I've put the translations here in the Author's Note.

"Lyubov Moya" = My Love

"Zolotse" = My Gold (seeing as how Viktor is known for racking up gold medals, and Yuuri thinks of Viktor as his personal trophy. Cheesy, I know xD)

"Kotyonok" = Little Kitten

"Da" = Yes

"Niet/Nye" = No

"Spaseeba" = Thank you

"Da nyet, navernoe" = Their version of 'Yes, no, maybe-so'

Any other words I use will be added to this key later on for ease. Thank you for reading!


Chapter 3

Viktor chooses to stay home with me for the first week despite my urging him to return to the ice. Yakov being as old as he is needed his help around the rink more and more, after all. We all knew the old man was tired after returning back to full-time hours while Viktor was on his commercial shoot abroad. Word had gotten out that Viktor was back in St. Petersburg, so I knew Viktor was purposely avoiding much of Yakov's phonecalls in effort to stay with me.

When he turns his phone facedown to ignore another early morning phone call from Yakov, I frown and nudge his shoulder. "I don't need a babysitter, Viktor," I say disapprovingly. "While I love all this attention and time together, I'll feel like crap to know I'm the reason you're staying off the ice. So, please. Go help the old man, he needs the rest."

I'm not exaggerating and we both know it. Yakov had a minor stroke last year due to all the stress of helping his students for competition, especially Yurio. Viktor had been forced to step in as an interim coach while Yakov was away, and when Yakov was cleared to return to coaching everyone agreed it was best for Viktor stay on as an assistant and shoulder some of the load.

I can tell Viktor initially intended to argue the point with me, but he changed his mind mid-thought and sighed in resignation. "Very well lyubov moya, I will go since you put it that way. But please, try not to overwork yourself, yes?" he says, grabbing the phone and already hitting re-dial.

I nod and lean over to steal a swift kiss from him before he prepares to go get ready. "I'll try, zolotse."

When he does finally leave the house, I go about doing exactly what he said not to do and begin my usual routine of stretches and barre workout to get my blood pumping just a tad. When I finish, I clean up what minimal mess I made and then take a shower, followed by grabbing a quick breakfast. The rest of the day consists of food shopping for the house, clothes shopping for myself, and a bit of cardio all before Viktor gets home. By the time he does, I'm already changed into pajamas and sitting comfortably in the livingroom.

"You didn't overwork yourself, right?" he asks warningly.

I merely wink and say I did not.


Later that night when Viktor falls asleep on the plush couch in the middle of our movie, I tip-toe away to our bedroom to turn on the computer and make a FaceTime call to Phichit. I hadn't spoken to him in several weeks, texting him only to let him know I'd lost the baby-again-and that I'd be back on the ice sooner than we expected.

Though I have a game running on the Mac, as well as my Discord chat going a mile a minute, I still manage to multitask easily. Years of gaming provided the practice necessary, I suppose.

"Hey, Phichit," I begin, "do you remember seven years ago when I got Victor and I those rings?"

Despite the distance and the four hour time difference between us, Phichit is still the best friend I have in the skating world. Even more than Yurio. Though I suppose that's not entirely surprising given the years of friendship between us, starting from our youth training days in Detroit, Michigan. To this, aside from our partners, no one else is really allowed to call our phones at absurd times of the night.

Speaking of which, it's about ten o'clock when I glance at the clock on my desk, which means it's roughly two in the morning for Phichit in Bangkok. He seems wide awake for it being the wee hours of the morning, eyes shining with the reflection of his monitor. I can tell that, like me, he's also playing a game on one of his consoles.

Phichit nods at my question. "Yeah of course! I totally thought you'd gotten married in secret and didn't invite me! Rude!"

With a laugh I shake my head. "And embarrassed me by shouting it to the entire venue. Jeez, totally unnecessary!"

"Yeah, well!"

Phichit's laugh echoes in my headphones. "So...when Viktor said we were engaged and supposed to get married after I got the gold, everyone else seemed a little skeptical. Except you. Not even I thought I would get the gold. So why were you rooting for me?"

He pauses the game finally too look at me properly in his webcam. "Because unlike them, I know you," he starts. "You were always a big ball of jumpy nerves, Yuuri. For as long as I've known you, you never seemed to know how to just relax, man. Except for two times: when you were alone on the ice when you thought no one was watching...or when you were alone with Viktor and thought no one was watching. And even though you didn't know it then, I knew he'd marry you even if you didn't win gold. But you didn't know that yet, which I guess was his point. He wanted to give you a drive, a goal, because you didn't know yet how to do that for yourself."

Wow. For a while, I'm speechless, simply staring at Phichit staring at me. "I never told you, but I so desperately wanted Viktor to stay that when I thought I couldn't make it past prelims, I had possibly the biggest panic attack of my life. And he told me he would leave. I was so devastated..."

"I know."

I pause and frown then. "What? How did you know?"

Looking as though caught in headlights, Phichit hesitates to answer. But I press him to give me the honest truth and he finally caved.

"That night, Viktor talked to me when you were asleep," Phichit sighs. "He didn't want you to know. But he felt pretty bad about being the reason you broke down like that and wanted to know how to fix the mess."

I blink once, twice. "W..what..?"

Phichit shrugs. "He was scared, Yuuri. But you handled yourself pretty well I think." Phichit goes quiet, giving me a long look, before speaking again. "Yuuri...we never talked about your miscarriages...and I didn't pry. But, what happened?"

I freeze up and bite my lip, hand flying to my flattened tummy. Phichit is right, I never talked to him about it. Not really. I just sorta told him the baby was gone, both times, but that was it. And he'd been kind enough both times to not push the subject.

He sees my hesitation and immediately takes back his curiosity. "You know what, never mind. It's not my business. You don't have to if you're not ready."

"No, Phichit. It's okay. Just gimmie a sec..."

With a sigh, I take off my glasses and exit the game I'm playing. It's not that I need to recollect the memory of both instances. Closer to the opposite really. I'd never forgotten either time. I just needed to make sure I wouldn't have a panic attack, or break down from remembering.

"The first time..." I stop, choosing instead to focus on a spot on the bedroom floor. It's easier than looking at Phichit's face full of pity. "The first time, I'd made it to three months in," I begin. "By then, Viktor and I started setting up the nursery for...for our daughter."

"Oh...Yuuri..."

I take in a long breath, hold it, and let it go before continuing. I'd never had a reason to air all this before, outside of therapy. And that had been so long ago. "We were going to name her Natalia for a girl, Nathaniel for a boy. I'd already begun buying some baby clothes, nappies and—"

I stop when I realize I'm crying and hastily wipe the tears away. "Anyway. I remember that day I was spotting a bit. I'd kind of been spotty for weeks and the doctor said such things did happen, but that I should take it easy. That day I hadn't done anything labor intensive. Not really. By then I wasn't skating anymore but I was cleared for modified ballet, so I attended classes. Came home. Painted in the nursery. But I just kept spotting. And when the spotting turned into full on Red River I knew something was wrong."

I paused for a moment to allow Phichit the chance to say something, but he was quiet and a little white in the face for what he knew was the worst part of the first half of my tale. So I continued.

"I felt damp so I thought 'Oh, I've probably waited too long to pee again.' Because, well, I've admittedly done that a lot in that pregnancy, except I went to the toilet and...so much red...

"I sat there for maybe 5 minutes in a panic, because all I could think of was, 'how do I tell Viktor?' He'd been more excited than I was about being a father."

I don't talk about the part where I cried hopelessly in the bathroom, alone and on the verge of a panic attack. How Viktor found me hysterical about an hour later because of the 20 missed calls on my phone. What the public did know was that I had to be hospitalized for a few days due to complications of the lost child. My social media had been swamped for days with messages of support in the wake of the miscarriage.

Phichit finally speaks up in a whisper. "Yuuri...I'm so sorry. You don't have to keep going."

But I shake my head and continue anyway. I need to get it out. My therapist advised that the more I talked about it, the less it power it had over me. This is more for me than for Phichit, I guess. "The second time, we got further along, but only by a few weeks. I couldn't keep anything down, and I was always so sick. We were less surprised about that miscarriage, and in a way Viktor thought it was for the best, because I was so sick.

"This time, though... I blame myself. I fell on some black ice in the driveway. And I just knew it was over before I even hit the ground."

His face crumpled. "Come on, don't blame yourself, Yuuri. I won't allow it."

I'm shaking my head before he's done talking. "I knew better. You've seen our driveway, Phichit. It's long, and steep. I shouldn't have gone out in the snow, the trash could have waited another day. But because I chose to be stubborn, I've robbed Viktor the chance of fatherhood a second time."

"Dude, that is seriously not healthy," says Phichit. "You've got to stop talking like that. There's nothing anyone could have-"

I nearly jump out of my perch on the bed when I feel someone rip my headphones out. It's obviously Viktor but I wasn't expecting him to be awake. My hand flies to my chest as I steady my heartrate. "Jesus, Viktor! Don't scare me like that! Did you knock?"

"I did, you did not hear." Viktor doesn't look amused. Oh boy. "Yuuri, how could you blame yourself? Still?"

Oh..."Phichit, I'll text you later," I mumble, ending the call. How embarrassing. I draw my legs up onto the chair, crossing them Indian style and dropping my chin in my hands. "Okay, Viktor, how much did you hear through the door?"

Defensively, Viktor crosses his arms. "Not that I was eavesdropping or anything," he begins slowly, "but, I heard enough. More than enough."

My cheeks color, and with an embarrassed groan I change my seat from the rolling chair to the bed and flop backward against it like a limp ragdoll. I can practically guess what he's going to say, but I simply wave a hand to let him go on with it.

Viktor joins me on the bed, laying beside me but with far more elegance than I could ever muster. "Yuuri, I do not blame you for the loss of our children. I could never blame you for the loss of our children. You were just as excited at the prospect of parenthood as I was, and you did everything you could have done to prepare for it. You went as far as purchasing an unhealthy amount of parenting books just to be safe!"

I remain quiet. Honestly, I thought he would lecture me on my dark attitude in regard to the miscarriages. But...he isn't. And my chest constricts as a result. I roll over to look at him at almost the same time he shifts to face me. When he reached out a hand to caress my cheek, I naturally close my eyes and release a deep sigh. And like that, every single doubt I had about my imagined disappointment Viktor might have in me, disappears. Mostly. "I'm sorry," I whisper, truly meaning it. And not about the child loss, but about my attitude toward it. "I'll do better."

"I know," he whispers back, tucking some of my long hair behind an ear. "And we will try again, as promised. One more time."

My eyes open again, hope renewed. Our eyes lock for a moment of silence, and boldly I lean in to close the small distance between us for a kiss. When he doesn't pull away, I take the chance to deepen it, to slide my fingers into his silvery locks and pull him closer. Except...he ends the kiss.

Dramatically.

Blinking my eyes open in mild surprise and confusion, I lean back some to give him a good look. That was odd. He'd never denied my advances before. Have I miscalculated?

"Vitya, the doctor did clear me for intimacy again, you know. We can have sex." And try for a kid again immediately, I want to add. But I don't say it aloud. I know we're both thinking it anyway.

Viktor merely gives me a small smile, but for some reason, it feels forced. Though, it could be all in my head again. Wouldn't be the first time. But what if..?

"I know, lyubov moya. But there is no rush. We have time, no?"

Well, I guess he's not wrong. Even though I'm kind of aroused, it could be he's just tired from his first day back at the rink. He does, after all, have to split his time between his own choreographing, conditioning and rink work; and coaching the juniors in preparation for competition season.

I decide not to be selfish, keeping my arousal to myself and simply nodding. "Ok," I agree, lowering my head to his chest. "We can wait a bit longer."

After all, we've already gone a few weeks without any intimacy. A few more days won't hurt.

...Right?


A/N: Read and review!