CHAPTER EIGHT

-ロシアからのご挨拶！Вам привет от Японии!-
-Greetings from Russia! Greetings from Japan!-

Victor hadn't waited long to introduce his fiancé to the luxury of Business Class, having refused to fly Economy even one more time after their return from the Final. Yuri, of course, was entirely thrown off by the whole thing.

"...I feel so out of place here." He commented quietly as they passed the water fountain behind the check-in counter, walking nervously into the Emirates Lounge in the Tokyo Narita International Airport. It was about the size of a two-person hot-tub, with lights mounted on the bottom to shine at the centerpiece; two fused rectangular pillars about 4 feet high, with a flower arrangement on the top. All around them were single-person upholstered leather seats, some colored orange and others off-white, clustered into groups of 2 to 4, with lamps on various wood-laminate tables set between them. The walls were a dark taupe, and covered with fabric to buffer the echo of the airport, making the area feel rather homey and quiet. There was even a small 'business center' area along the wall as they went by, with two computers and a fax machine on the end.

"You'll get used to it." Victor explained, rubbing his thumb gently over where he held to his partner's hand between them, "Once you've done it like this enough times, it's unbearable to fly any other way."

"...Yeah, that time you asked for champagne when we were flying to China was really weird. Is that...standard in First Class or something?"

The Russian was walking them slowly through the first lounge area and into a second, where the decor changed slightly. The chairs were all the same, but there were marble-stone dividers between the groups, making them seem like each group of chairs were nestled in their own separate alcoves. It was a bit darker in that area as well, especially closer to the wall, where it looked like other passengers were trying to catch a nap before their flights.

"On First and Business Class, yeah." Victor answered, slowing his pace slightly to let the younger figure get a better look around as they made their way towards the dining area, "You want some dinner? We won't land for the layover in Dubai for another 12 hours."

"...Tw-twelve hours!?" Yuri balked, though trying to keep his voice down.

"...Yeah, then the layover is 10 hours, then we fly another 7 hours to St. Petersburg." The Russian didn't understand what the fuss was about, "...I gave you the itinerary days ago."

"...I...didn't look at it." Yuri sighed, "I thought I'd leave it all as a surprise for myself, so I'd pay attention to my surroundings rather than the time." He grudgingly pulled out his phone and went to his email, letting his amused partner pull him along into the dining area.

...10pm from Tokyo Narita, landing in Dubai at 4:55am...then leaving again at 3:30pm and landing in St. Petersburg at...8:45pm.

Brown eyes looked up, a bit exacerbated and flustered, "...What a long flight..."

"Isn't that how you flew to Sochi?" Victor wondered, letting go of his fiancé's hand to reach for a plate near the buffet display.

"Of course not. We didn't even fly like that to Moscow."

"I guess that's true!" The Russian laughed, offering a second plate to his partner, "We flew with a different airline then though, and it was in Economy. I'd rather it take longer and be more comfortable though...being squashed into those tiny Aeroflot sardine-can seats for 10 hours can feel like eternity."

"...They're really not that bad..." Yuri contested quietly as he took the offered plate and moved down the line, collecting a few bits of bread and rice as he found them, "Are you claustrophobic or something?"

"Claustrophobic?" Victor echoed, looking back, "No... Maybe I'm just used to being in open spaces. On the beach, in the hot spring, even the banquet hall...everything's always big."

"That was just this past year." The younger skater huffed a laugh of disbelief, trying to decide between Japanese curry sauce and the chicken shahjahani, indecisively glancing back and forth between the two white-ceramic hot-plates, but eventually reached for the spoon for the latter.

"I guess it goes all the way back to the beginning." The silver Russian admitted tacitly, "Where I came from, there wasn't any light-pollution from the big cities...so on some nights, you could go outside and see the Auroras, and there were so many stars...more than you would imagine could even exist in a single sky."

"Oh wow." Yuri paused for a moment, trying to imagine it, "So you come from a small town? I can't believe I never really asked you about that stuff the whole time you were in Hasetsu." He found himself thoroughly distracted from the buffet then, "Now that I think about it, I have so many questions! How old were you when you started skating? What kind of rink did you go to? How did you decide to get into competition? Have you been training under Yakov since the start or was it someone else at first? Did you ever train abroad or overseas like I did? Were you ever able to convince your parents to go to competition or were they oblivious to it all like mine were?"

The questions went on like bullets from a machinegun, but Victor just watched in silence, blinking once or twice in surprise before Yuri finally stopped to catch his breath. He looked on to see those desperately-inquisitive brown eyes glancing at him, so he shrugged and smiled, "...Yes, technically since I was 5, an old one, I liked it, in a way, and sort of."

Yuri was the one blinking that time, trying to recall the questions he'd asked so he could match the answers to them, only to realize Victor had started to walk off again, "Wh-...hey! You only answered half of those!" He caught up quickly enough, taking the seat opposite the older skater, "Victor...?"

Cool blue eyes were looking down at the items on the plate beneath them, but then rose quietly.

"What about the rest...?"

The silver feigned a smile, sticking a fork straight through the center of a small, grape-sized green fruit, "It's more fun to talk about the stuff after I joined the ISU." He lifted the fork and bit the fruit in half, glanced at the core and smirked; he spun it around to show it off, "Look, Yuri! It's a kiwi-berry! It's like a kiwi but berry-sized!" He turned it around again though and looked at it more seriously, putting his free hand on his chin to keenly observe the morsel, "Not quite as tart though...it's more...sweet than anything, like an over-ripe kiwi..." He ate the other half after that and picked at the rest of his plate, keeping his eyes down, even though he reached his feet under the table to wrap around his fiancé's nearest ankle.

The whole time, Yuri just stared at him, tilting his head a bit in a gaze that was equal parts confusion, amazement, and stunned silence.

...He blew off the rest of my questions like they were dirt on his shoulder. I wonder what that was about...?

.

Stepping onto the Emirates plane, the naïve traveler thought immediately to turn to the right, but Victor's hand guided him to the left, taking him down one of the aisles of Business Class. The Russian glanced at the center array of seats, where they were arranged into pairs. On the walls of the cabin, more of the same kinds of seats, but set apart on their own as singular seats for solo travelers.

"There are ours." Victor then said, stopping about 2/3rds of the way towards First Class and pointed to the two seats on the inside aisle. He turned to stuff his travel-case and suit-bag into the overhead compartment, then shuffled in to take the seat on the far side, letting his partner follow in after to take the seat he'd passed to get there.

Yuri found himself oddly shocked to see the seats once he got there, his eyes glaring dubiously at a thick plastic divider between them, "...Hm."

"What?" The Russian had paused where he was, half-way to sitting, with a hand on each arm-rest and a few items set on his lap; items Yuri barely acknowledged until he saw there were some on his own seat as well.

"Don't the designers of these fancy planes know that couples travel together?" He wondered idly, moving to tilt forward and grab the assorted things that were waiting in his spot; a bag with socks and an eye-mask, and a larger bag with a thin blanket inside.

"Aww!" Victor cooed, finally finishing his descent in his spot, and leaned against the back of his wrist, elbow on the seat-divider as he watched his partner lower down, "You've already gotten so comfortable calling us that, saying it out loud like that."

Yuri's cheeks flushed, and he soon met his fiancé on the dividing block. Two fingers barely touched the man's skin, and he looked deeply into those blue eyes, speaking quietly, "I've gotten comfortable with a lot of things."

"Do I still make your heart race?" Victor asked adoringly, though he bat his eyes rather dramatically at his beloved.

Yuri puffed a quiet laugh and rubbed his thumb against that closest cheek, "Every day." He answered, and moved to buckle himself into his seat so he wouldn't have to think about it later.

The Russian smiled, and his own heart skipped a beat for it. To relieve his fiancé's annoyance though, he gently pushed the divider down into its hidey-hole between the seats; it had only been set half-way up as a declaration of its existence, in case someone wanted it, "...It doesn't go all the way down, but I think it's enough. Maybe one day I can take you on my favorite flight and we'll have a whole private cabin just to ourselves."

"Really?" Yuri wondered, looking up from the contents of the bags, "What kind of flight has private cabins?"

"The expensive kind that involves Paris."

.

When they'd finally landed for their Arabian layover, it was an easy thing to go to the next First Class Lounge and get a little more sleep. Though the rest area was open, each pair of curved, reclining chairs was set between dividing posts, making each 'cubby' area in the hall feel parsed and secluded. There weren't many other travelers there at that time of morning though, so when Yuri sat in the first one he saw, dropping his bag next to it and pulling the eye-mask from the flight out of his coat pocket, he knew what he'd be doing next.

Victor checked his phone one last time, looked at the clock's reading of 5:43am and huffed a quiet sigh to himself. He then set an alarm, clicked it off again, and spotted his partner trying to get comfortable, dark circles under those eyes where the hapless traveler was desperate for sleep. He smiled and pulled his long-coat off, letting it hang from his hand as he made his way down to join the man, and made sure the length of the coat stayed over him as he nestled in closer. He could feel the twitch of sleepy surprise, and the wiggle as Yuri tried to back up into him, hand reaching back to grasp at one arm and pull it over. Victor let Yuri have it easily, and wasted no time nuzzling at the back of the man's head fondly, "Just a few more hours... Just a...few more..." He whispered, just as he dozed off to sleep. Those told-of hours seemed to pass in a blink though, but as he roused, he realized the world had gone entirely dark. He could see the light of his phone where it had slipped out of his jacket's inside pocket, and fallen into the gap between his and his fiancé's bodies, and heaved a sign of both relief and annoyance as he reached for it, seeing a name in Cyrillic on the screen.

Яков Фельцман

Victor grumbled and answered, "Da? This is Victor." He said tiredly, and yawned as he reached up from under his jacket to push it down at the end of a stretch, listening to his coach's words, "Yes, we're about halfway back; there's only some seven hours left before we're there." He explained quietly, sitting on the edge of the curved seats with his ankles crossed ahead of himself, "We should be landing in St. Petersburg around 9pm. ...No, would you mind? Has he been causing you any trouble? ...Oh, haha, so the usual then, he's a nutcase. ...Ah okay, perfect. ...Thanks, see you soon." He said and hung up, then turned his head aside to look at his beloved, "You awake?"

"Yeah." Yuri answered quietly, "Who were you talking to?"

"Yakov."

"What time is it in St. Petersburg right now...?" He followed, and wiggled in place so he could lay on his back as well, chin over one shoulder so he could see his partner evenly. He brought one hand up from under the jacket and touched his fingertips on the Russian's pale skin, brushing a few silver hairs out of those blue eyes.

"It's only an hour behind this place." Victor explained, "He's going to come pick us up when we get to the city. I took a taxi to the airport when I first went to Japan, so my little red rocket isn't in long-term parking waiting for us. Not that I'd want to drive it after all this time, if it had been parked there all along. All these months, not moving..."

"...Wow, yeah, I hadn't thought about that." Yuri said, idly combing his fingers through silver bangs, "You haven't been home in almost a year. Your place is probably all dusty, too."

"One more reason why I'm glad we went to Nationals before coming here." Victor explained, "I had time to hire some people to clean the place up and get my utilities turned back on. Had to ask a traveling mechanic to go check on the car, too...it was probably in rough shape after sitting there for so long." The Russian suddenly laughed nervously, "I kind of dropped everything and left before, but I wanted to be sure it was perfect before I brought you to see it. After all, it's your home now."

Cheeks flushed a little at the mention of it.

"So, what do you feel like eating? It's close to noon now."

.

It wasn't much, to Victor's surprise. Yuri nibbled on a small fruit salad and had a coffee, but that was basically it; Victor started picking at what was left so it wouldn't go to waste. Yuri was so scattered that it was hard to maintain conversation after a while, so Victor surmised it would be better to wait. Once they were done though, they wandered around a bit, taking in the odd and interesting sights of the airport. Yuri occupied the time with some photo-taking, completely enamored by the imagery of the Dubai decorations. There were massive palm trees in the halls, as well as a huge white pillars holding up the 3-story ceiling.

"I noticed that you never post anything online." The Russian mentioned a little while later, casually standing in the boarding area as their block was called to rise, "I know you have an account at least."

"Oh..." Yuri said, distracted, "Yeah, I usually don't post anything. I'm on so many other peoples' posts that I never thought it was worth making my own."

"I'm sure lots of people would like to follow you without having to hunt down who you're with first." The silver pointed out, and stepped forward to give their tickets to the clerk behind the podium, "I mean, they know you're with me these days, but still. My posts are about my life. You may be a constant part of it now, but I can only say so much before there are gaps in your narrative."

They moved down the long ramp to where the tunnel connected with the side of the plane, entered, and followed to where their next set of assigned seats waited. Yuri flopped back into the plush chair, finding it more comfortable than the first plane they'd been on, and sat in silence while the rest of the plane filled up, scanning Instagram for last-minute updates while he still had the chance. Victor was putting his suit-bag and their backpacks into the carry-on compartment above their seats.

One passenger stopped with a startled gasp, gaping at the pair as though she'd seen a unicorn, "...Y-Yuri Katsuki and Victor Nikiforov! I...I don't believe it...!"

Yuri blanched, unwillingly sucked out of his focus, but Victor was all smiles, "It's us~!"

The young brunette woman felt a shove from behind and pulled out of the line to step into the small alcove, and apologized for interrupting them, "Is there any chance I could get a...a photo with you two? Please!"

"Of course!" The excitable Russian answered for both of them, pulling his partner up with him as the woman got her phone out and set her camera to selfie-mode. They crammed in together so their faces were all in the frame, and when the flash went off, Yuri felt like he was seeing stars. But, it was over...or so he thought.

"I was so inspired by your Free Skate. It was extremely moving." The woman was saying, though the dazzled skater was sure she was talking to Victor because...well, why wouldn't she? Victor had just skated at the end of the All Japan Exhibition and everyone was still really excited about it. "It was like night and day compared to the previous year in Sochi. Can I ask what happened? You'd been doing so well before that...and then you just seemed to fall apart."

Yuri then realized she was actually talking to him, and coughed uncomfortably, "I...er..." He felt Victor's hand on the small of his back, and it helped ground him, "M-my...my dog died suddenly, and it messed me up. I couldn't focus."

"I...I'm so sorry. I had no idea." The woman was taken aback by the answer.

"Thank you...it's okay now." He explained quietly, and moved to sit back down. Victor followed suit, and the woman started to get back into the shuffle into the area further back.

"Good luck at 4CCs, Yuri! And congratulations on your first GPF medal!"

"Spasibo!" Victor answered, watching her disappear again with a wave, smiling to himself as he saw her fangirling over her phone. He turned back to his fiancé and reached for the man's tensed hand, patting it gently, "That wasn't so bad."

Yuri just grumbled, "I'm so bad with fans."

"It gets easier." His partner reassured, "I'll protect you from the crazy ones. She seemed nice though. But you see? I bet, if you posted to Instagram once in a while, she'd be one of your followers. Maybe she already is and inwardly wonders why you never post anything."

"Maybe." Yuri said with a sigh. The flow of people boarding the plane had reduced to a trickle by that point, "But you remember when I told you about that girl once that tried to hug me and I pushed her off?"

"Sure."

"Posting photos of myself online...I think it would feel like that... Except that since it's me going out of my way to post that stuff, it's more like an invitation for people to poke and prod at my life."

Victor looked on at him curiously, but then simply clasped the man's anxious hand a bit tighter where it was sitting on the arm-rest between them, "Is it okay when I post photos of us?"

"When you post?" Yuri was perplexed, looking at his partner with a start, only to turn his head again, "I hadn't...considered that. When I see myself in other peoples' photos, I just see it as a nod that I'm a part of their life. Like you said, it doesn't really say much about me on my own. Phichit-kun used to post a lot of photos of us together when we trained in Detroit, even if my being in them was less intended and more of a photo-bomb sometimes."

"Oh, really~!?" The Russian was excited, and whipped his own phone out again to go digging up the Thai skater's archive, "I want to see!"

Yuri could only smile, and leaned to rest his cheek against his coach's shoulder while he skimmed through hundreds of old photos. Phichit was a prolific selfie-taker, so there were more photos on his account than on probably most others. It took about 30 minutes before they really found anything that Yuri recognized, having to troll through nearly a year of newer content, but by then, the plane had started to taxi.

"It's a shame that the wifi on these planes is so appallingly slow." The silver commented, though smiling on several amusing shots from the Detroit Skate Club; many were obviously from practice, but there were a lot more of just Phichit's daily life, including a few he'd taken of Yuri in the apartment they'd shared while training together. Victor squinted his eyes at one photo in particular, "...Is that your bedroom?"

Yuri glanced at it, "Yeah."

"...Is that a picture of me on your shelf?"

Hazel eyes shot open, and the petrified man swiped the phone right out of his partner's hands, "N-No! Don't look!"

.

It was just after 9pm local time when the pair were finally at Pulkovo Airport in St. Petersburg, going past the luggage carousel to pick up Yuri's one suitcase, and then moved towards the doors where people could leave the airport. Victor scanned the area just in front of the exit and spotted Yakov from a distance away, easily visible in the late-night sparsely-populated terminal.

The coach was alone...but then he wasn't.

A certain blonde teenager was with him, to the mutual surprise of both skaters, "Yurio!"

"It's about goddamn time you got back here, Victor." The Russian Punk barked quietly, "Took long enough. The RSF folks were livid when they heard you weren't coming home straight from the Final. They've been putting off the post-event conference until after you got back."

"Nice to see you, too." Victor mused.

The bristling figure grimaced, and turned stiffly from his rink-mate to the out-of-place Asian skater holding the man's hand, "Katsudon."

"Hey, Yurio." Yuri waved nervously, "How's your grandpa?"

"Tired. He moved to St. Petersburg after the Final to lighten the load, but there's still unpacking to do. Getting ready for Russian Nationals meant I wasn't around much to help him, because I was down in Moscow, where he had just come from." The teen was glaring heavily at his older counterpart.

"Did you bring Makkachin with you?" Victor wondered, completely ignoring the blonde and redirected his attention to Yakov, who to that point had said nothing.

"He's outside with Mila." The elder answered, "But Yuri is right, it's about time you got back. It's unheard of for the commission to wait for a returning skater when they have a Gold Medalist to talk to. I'm surprised they didn't go ahead and host it after you were caught skating for Japan this weekend."

The silver Russian blinked and made a face, "It was arbitrary...just for fun. I hadn't even planned on doing it. I just happened to have my 'Aria' costume on-hand because I almost left it at the Ice Castle. It was returned to me right as Yuri and I were heading to the train station."

"You didn't need your skates for All Japan."

"Oh Yakov, you're talking like you think I cheated on you." Victor laughed, "I didn't join the JSF, if that's what you're worried about...and you know as well as anyone that I always travel with my skates in my carry-on bag."

"Some would think you were considering it after all the time you spent out there."

Yuri felt himself sinking where he stood, every word sounding like it was a hair's width away from being made his fault. He soon felt a tug against his hand though, and shook his head, seeing his partner there trying to get his attention.

"Hey, we're going...are you still with us?" The man smiled.

"...The RSF is mad at you, like I worried they would be."

"Yeah...seems so. I really didn't think they'd wait for me; I had no idea." Victor shrugged, "Let's go then. We can tell them that I'm back and we can do what should've been done two weeks ago."

The group started heading to the exit, and as Victor spotted that telltale brown poodle, he broke away and rushed outside. The dog recognized him immediately and pulled Mila to get to him, barking and yipping desperately as the woman yelped in surprise. The woofer licked his human's face and jumped all over him in greeting, and Victor loved every second of it.

Yuri and Yurio slowly pulled up from the back, coming out after Yakov.

"Thank you for looking after Makkachin for me." Victor said excitedly, and stood up to take the leash from Mila, who was entirely unimpressed with the dog's sudden energy.

"You should've had him ride with you." Yakov scolded, "Spending the weekend at my place was crazy. That dog was a nervous wreck the entire time you were gone."

"I couldn't take him to the competition, and I didn't want to make Yuri's family watch him again. Sending him ahead was the easier option." Victor explained, smiling happily as Makkachin went over and greeted his second human with the same enthusiasm he himself had received.

Yuri got down on one knee to pet the poodle, happy to see him again, too. Unlike Victor though, Yuri was easy to bowl over, and before long, the dog was licking his face while he flailed on his back on the ground like an upended turtle.

Yurio had to wedge his leg between them to get the dog off long enough for the older skater to get up again, and looked annoyed the entire time, "Let's go already; it's boring here."

"You didn't have to come." Yuri pointed out, letting his partner help him back up to his feet, and used his sleeve to wipe the drool off his face.

"I just wanted to be sure I saw Victor arrive with my own eyes. Now I have. So let's go."

.

The drive to the house was cramped and fairly quiet; Yuri was wedged in the back seat of Yakov's black Mercedes between the two Russian skaters. Mila sat in the front passenger seat, talking about the usual things that happened while Victor was gone, up to and including Georgi's reaction to having Gold taken away from him at Nationals by a kid almost half his age.

"He was so convinced he'd get Gold this year since you didn't make it!" She said with a laugh, "You should've seen the look on his face when Yuri outscored him by such a huge margin! He swiped it right out of Georgi's hands!"

"Nego ne bylo šansov." (He never had a chance.) Yurio corrected, speaking in Russian for some reason; it set Yuri on edge rather quickly, perhaps at the Punk's intention, [He should be grateful for Silver. It's all he can hope for now that I'm in Seniors.]

"Mila, it's not professional or sportsmanlike to make fun of your rink-mates." Yakov scolded, ignoring his younger student's comment entirely.

The redhead huffed and crossed her arms, "But it's Georgi! He's been coming second to Victor since he started skating. Even Georgi's birthday comes the day after Victor's. I think the only thing Georgi ever did first was joining the Skating Club, but it's all been seconds after that. It's a huge joke!"

"Not to him."

"Alright alright..." She turned to look out the window, scratching at Makkachin's fluffy head to distract herself. The dog had nowhere else to sit but in the footwell by her feet, and he stared at his human - through the gap between the two front seats - the entire drive.

Yuri felt entirely out of place, but since he was holding Victor's costume bag on his lap, he at least felt like he had some purpose. Victor, of course, kept his arm protectively over his shoulders, making it feel more like he was keeping him close on purpose, rather than because he was being shoved over by Yurio. The drive took nearly an hour, and Yuri looked out the windows in silence as the Russian team conversed amongst themselves about official skating business; Yurio never broke character, and spoke in Russian the entire time, never mind the fact that everyone else spoke in English. Yuri took in the sights of St. Petersburg with rapt curiosity and ignored it, hoping that he would someday know those roads and buildings as well as he did Hasetsu's. They even got to pass the skating rink where they'd be training.

"Yuri." Yakov suddenly said.

"Čto?" (What?) Yurio answered naturally, though both of them lifted their heads at the mention.

"The other one." Yakov corrected, "Katsuki."

"Y-Yessir?"

"Tsh." The teen scoffed and looked back out the window bitterly, slouching where he sat. He spread his knees even further apart just to take more space from his older counterpart.

"What plans do you have for Worlds? You scored Gold this weekend in Japan, so there's no doubt you'll be getting chosen by the JSF to represent Japan if you want to go."

"Of course." Yuri answered.

"My reason for asking is just for the sake of ISU expenses for traveling. If you're staying here to train under Vitya, and he's training under me, then it would just be easier to have everyone coordinate things together. For Worlds, you should travel and stay with us."

"Is that okay? I mean, I'm not on the Russian team...I don't want to impose."

"It's just traveling," Yurio said curtly, finally speaking in English again, though probably just to be antagonistic. He showed his irritation and elbowed Yuri in the ribs hard where they sat squished together, "You're not joining the Russian team just because you'll be flying with us."

Yuri just grunted and cringed with each jab, at least until he felt a set of fingers getting between the side of his chest and the pointy elbow trying to grind into it.

"Cut it out, Yurio, you're going to mangle my cinnamon roll."

The teen just gave him an incredulous look, eyes wide open for a moment, but then narrowed them again with simmering rage. He clapped his knee to the side and hit his 'rival's' leg painfully as he turned, but then crossed his arms and moved to glare daggers out the window instead, grinding his teeth angrily.

The abused skater just reached a hand out to rub the spot where it stung, "...Yurio...?" He asked; he got no answer. Brows furrowed above blue-framed glasses, and Yuri felt a pit in his stomach, Why is he so mad at me...?

.

It was only a few more minutes before they were starting to pull into a residential area, and Yuri marveled at how...normal it looked. Normal, anyway, for a higher-end neighborhood that wasn't in Japan's cramped foothills. Yakov eventually stopped in a driveway, and Mila let Makkachin out as soon as the car was completely parked. The dog went ballistic, running around familiar territory and smelling everything that once was his. Mila brushed her leggings off and stepped out as well.

Victor pushed the driver's-side passenger door open and Yuri followed after him; Yurio stayed in the car.

Yakov looked to his newly-reinstated student, "We'll be at the rink tonight if you feel like joining us, otherwise we'll see you there whenever you get over your jetlag."

"Sounds good." Victor answered, and pulled his partner with him as he waved the group off, "We'll probably come tomorrow. I have no doubt that I'll have a ton of stuff to deal with here once our luggage shows up, but after a while, I'm sure I'll want to get away from it for a bit."

"Da, da...come whenever. You have plenty of time to get your act together." The coach waved him off and went back to the car.

"Byyye~! And welcome to Russia, Yuri!" Mila called, half-stepped back in the car again. She waved excitedly though before disappearing under the roof, "Stay out of trouble!"

The pair nodded, and waved as the vehicle started to pull away again.

Victor waited for the car to be out of sight before turning to his fiancé, "Welcome home, Yuri."