CHAPTER TWENTY TWO
-Bronze!? Silver!? Gold!? Anticipation for the ages!-
Yuri could feel his heart pounding in chest, as hard as he'd ever felt it. It was like it was smacking against the inside of his rib-cage. The audience's roars and continued cheers, all the way in the kiss and cry, had made Yuri feel like he'd gone deaf, too. He could see – more or less, anyway – that they were still applauding in the stands, but their chorus had morphed into a kind of far-off tide, crashing against the shores of the rink-wall ahead of him.
He eyeballed the score-screen ahead, but without his glasses, it was a slight blur, made worse by the glowing light reflecting off the ice behind it. Hands braced against the front of the cushioned bench between his thighs, and he leaned forward slightly, squinting. It seemed like everything reduced to slow motion.
It's taking forever to get my score called! Didn't they already announce the start of it?
Victor's hand came down flat on his back, and then the tide changed to a thunderous wave all at once.
"The score for Yuri Katsuki...is 219.24! He is currently in first place."
Arms wrapped around Yuri's tense, slender frame, and held him there in his forward lean. He could feel the scream of disbelief caught in his throat, and he pushed up immediately. Wide eyes turned over a shoulder to look at the coach sitting beside him.
"Yuri, you did it!"
"...I...I did it." He echoed, still in disbelief. There was almost an odd moment of silence between them...but when the realization finally struck, Yuri's face lit up, "I DID IT? Oh my god." He started, unsure whether to return the hug or to jump out of his skin.
"There's only two skaters left before the end of the event." Victor went on, "Odds are pretty good you're secured your victory here. There are no Yuri Plisetskys going after you."
"I...this is incredible." Yuri stammered, and reached up with one hand to wipe his eyes on the heel of his wrist, but no matter how shocked he was, he couldn't help but laugh when he felt his fiancé start to shake him excitedly in their continued embrace. Both of his arms came up then and he finally returned the hug, sliding them over the Russian's shoulders before burying his face against the man's neck, laughing and crying all at once with him.
There was no way they could leave rink-side while they waited for the end; post-skate interviews would have to wait until after the medaling ceremony. With only two athletes left, Yuri kept his eyes on the ice. Too anxious to sit either, he stood with Victor on the railing at the front of the participants' viewing area. His whole body trembled and shivered. Those last two skaters' Free Programs seemed to take an eternity.
The first of the two was a Hispanic skater - from Mexico; a rare breed - who looked relatively new to the Seniors lineup. His program ended after 49 years in Yuri's mind, and left the kiss and cry with a respectable FS score of 165.24, putting him in 14th place out of the 25-ish skaters who had advanced to the second Men's Singles event. The second - and final- skater, put everything he had on the line. Canadian - but not JJ, at least - the athlete pushed the limits of his skill and rose from the kiss and cry with a secure hold on 12th place after a performance that lasted another 37 years.
"It's done, Yuri," Victor commented, arm wrapped around his beloved's back. He slid one hand up towards the back of his partner's neck and rubbed his thumb through strands of black hair, "You're officially the Four Continents Ki-...what in the world!?" He eep'd and backed up a bit in a comical panic, seeing an old man there where his fiancé had once stood.
"It's...it's been 86 years..." Yuri spoke, whisper-soft and slightly strained in his toothless mouth. He raised his atrophied and age-marked hands up to Victor's confused face, "But I finally... I finally won Gold for you..."
The crash of a nearby skater-stampede distracted the perplexed Russian from the sight, but when he closed his eyes and shook his head, Yuri was himself again, and the gaggle of his friends were rushing up the stairs from the rink-side walk-way.
Yuri barely had a second to think about it before Phichit crashed into his shaking body, just as the rest of the Selfie Squad emerged at the bottom of the same nearby stairs; Leo and GuangHong, each clapping their congratulations. Phichit couldn't resist whipping his phone out, and quickly took half a hundred pictures, though eventually Victor had to take the younger man's phone so he could usher the Gold medalist down to the ice for his victory lap.
The Russian laughed and handed it back though as they got to the rink-wall entrance, "There'll be plenty of time to take photos once Yuri has his medal," He said, though then conspicuously leaned in and whispered behind his hand, "DM me a link to these."
Phichit just puffed a laugh and nodded sagely, "Of course." He mused, then stepped back and took a few candid shots just of the duo waiting, just to capture anticipatory mood of the moment.
Another 724 years passed for Yuri before the red velvet carpet was rolled out and smoothed on the ice, and the podium was placed beside it. ISU officials started shuffling out into the rink, flanked soon after by the presenters who carried the awards themselves. When the centuries had finally come to their ends though, and the announcements began, Yuri felt all those years returned to him, and the nervous flutter came with them.
"Ladies and gentlemen, the judges of the International Skating Union are proud to present the following Men's Singles athletes with their medals for this year's Four Continents Competition..." The voice boomed overhead.
Peppy victory-music started to play in the bright arena, and blue and white lights drifted down, moving like glowing fog across the ice. The group of 6 warmly-dressed lined up on the edges of the carpet, holding crystal-quartz trays in their hands. The three in front carried the trays supporting a skating medal, while the other three carried handsomely wrapped bouquets of flowers. The lanyards swayed back and forth as the women stepped forward together, until they finally arrived at the center, where the announcing judge stood waiting with the microphone. They passed in front of the triple-tier podium, with the medal-carriers stopping at the far end, paused where they lined up behind one another, then turned about-face together and looked out at the bulk of the skating rink and audience.
"The winner of the Gold medal...with a final score of 334.78..."
Yuri shook his head and stood taller, and looked to his fiancé, "Time to go." He said happily.
"...Representing Japan...YURI KATSUKI!"
"Don't collapse now that you've done," Victor teased, and offered a quick peck before his beloved moved away.
A calm settled over Yuri as the lights above shone down, basking him in the glory of his first real championship victory. Slowly, he stepped onto the ice, and skated to the center of the rink to the sound of a deafening applause. He spun to a stop just near the podium, and did a mini inside-spread-eagle for the fun of it, then raised one arm towards the crowd in front of him, bowed to them, and did so again to each of the other cardinal ends of the arena. He could hear the piano of 'Yuri on Ice' theme playing above him, and tears started to form in his eyes. He refused to let them fall so soon though, and moved the last few paces over to the podium; he looked at the ladies on either side of it, and then...one skate at a time, stepped onto the central platform. The highest of the three. The pinnacle.
His music kept playing, and the audience continued to cheer, clapping and crying as many of them were. Yuri clasped his hands together gratefully.
...Victor... I would never have come this far without you.
"...Coming in second place, and winning the Silver medal...with a final score of 317.42...representing Canada, Jean-Jacques Leroy!"
'Partizan Hope' started to play overhead, and Yuri watched as the man stepped onto the ice, stiff with annoyance, but trying not to show it. The audience was screaming his name, and eventually, after acknowledgments were made, JJ skated his way over, and gingerly stepped onto the 2nd place podium. He refused to look Yuri's way though, worried it might ruin the moment.
"And finally, coming in third place, and winning the Bronze medal...with a final score of 303.29...representing Kazakhstan, Otabek Altin!"
'Symphony No. 9, 2nd Movement "Advent"' played just like the previous two skaters' Free Skate themes did, and Otabek came out onto the ice to give his thanks as well, taking his place on the bronze podium...just as he had several times before. Yuri could only wonder if the constant Bronze was starting to burn the man.
With all three skaters on their marks, the music changed again to a more uplifting tune, and the head judge walked onto the carpet to address the winners. One of the medal-carrying ladies from before came around, with the Gold, and the judge took it from her tray kindly. She turned to look up at Yuri, smiled, and beckoned him to bow down his head. Around his neck, she placed the Gold medal, and she took Yuri's hand to shake it briskly. Her voice of congratulations was nearly drowned out by the music and cheering. To his surprise, she then moved to put her hands on the sides of his face, and kissed each cheek, patting his right shoulder proudly before letting him back up again to take in the weight of the moment. He almost didn't notice as she moved on to reward JJ and Otabek with their own medals.
A man came out onto the ice after that, stepping earnestly over the carpet, carrying authority on his shoulders; he was another high level representative of the ISU. Just like the previous judge, this man came up to each of them and shook their hands in congratulations, and offered them the items on the crystal trays from the second group of young ladies. A richly fragrant bouquet of flowers, and to Yuri's amusement, a plush toy featuring the Four Continents mascot. He accepted them happily, memorized the scent of the flowers as he stood back upright again, and bowed his head in gratitude.
Several more ISU officials came out to shake all their hands. The announcer overhead had said their names, but Yuri couldn't understand it all anymore. He was too overwhelmed. It wasn't long before he saw the Japanese, Canadian, and Kazakhstani flags being raised on the other side of the rink though.
"Ladies and Gentlemen...please rise...for the national anthem of this year's champion..."
It was his own. It was the Japanese anthem.
For the next several minutes, the audience paid him tribute in quiet reverence, and Yuri found himself mouthing the lyrics to the song, even though it was just the instrumental version that played.
Once it was done, the judges and officials then stepped in front of the podium, and photos were taken of the whole group. Soon after, Yuri found Otabek and JJ both joining him on the 1st place platform to take closer shots without the judges. Yuri nervously realized the other two were holding up their medals for the picture, and he went to reach for his own, finally getting his first real look at the Gold hanging around his neck, It's just like you've been saying this whole time… "I won the Gold medal, Victor..." He said quietly to himself, and the tears finally started to drip from his eyes.
It was only when he was finally allowed down from the podium - made his way around the rink for his victory lap, and finally returned to the open, waiting arms of his coach, choreographer, partner, idol, hero, and soon-to-be husband - that he finally and completely broke down. He presented his Gold medal, as though it was the most precious gift he ever had or could offer.
The Russian smiled proudly, took both of Yuri's hands - and the medal they held - into his own, and leaned over to kiss it. He then stood back up to his normal height, pulled his beloved close to kiss his forehead, then those quivering lips, and swayed the overwhelmed medalist back and forth in a tight hug like only he could.
Yuri buried his face in the man's suit coat and sobbed, clinging to him desperately, "We did it...Victor, we did it...!"
.
The post-skate/ceremony interview was a rush of questions and congratulations, but Yuri still felt the effects of his pumping adrenaline and could hardly focus on it. Everything moved so fast now that the competition was over and he wasn't so worried anymore. The walk back to the hotel was the first moment of normal-paced time that he was aware of; he flexed his fingers slightly where he felt them threaded and warm in his partner's thick coat-pocket, "...This is all so surreal." He commented, and drew closer to that nearest shoulder, "I really had high hopes that I'd win, but actually achieving it...? Still seems impossible, even though I've already done it."
"Honestly, I hope you never get used to it like I have," Victor added, and rubbed his thumb across those warm fingers, "I hope it magical and amazing for you every time it happens."
"It's just such a completely different experience, you know?" Yuri said, and looked up at the man; the night was pitch black but for the street lamps and buildings, and the air was still, making it easy for the pair to see the fog of their breath with each exhale. There were a few others walking the same path back, but everyone kept their comfortable distances, happily walking in their own bubbles, "All these years, I've done okay but was never seen as a podium challenger. Not outside of All Japan anyway. Back in the day-"
"That was last year."
"No no I mean before that," Yuri puffed and made a face, "When I wasn't an emotional wreck."
"Alright?"
"Back in the day," He repeated, and cleared his throat, "There was a whole group of us that were all seen as pretty decent. None of us were great by any means; we weren't Japanese versions of you in our home rinks. Scoring in the 250s total was pretty grand by our averages, so my 230 in Sochi wasn't horrible...it just looked that way compared to international power-houses like you and Chris."
"What happened to all the other skaters?" Victor wondered, "You speak of them like you're the only one left."
"...Er...well, I kind of am?" Yuri answered pensively, "I mean, I wasn't super-social with anyone to begin with, and even less-so after moving to Detroit. But it just seemed like the gang dropped off like flies, one by one, until I was the only one still competing. I guess that's why it felt so easy to just vanish after my collapse at Nationals last year; everyone else was gone, so who would miss me?"
"Here I thought that Japan treasured its rare birds," The silver shrugged and smiled, "Maybe it was just the timing. No one expected you at Worlds, and I came to Hasetsu so soon after that the JSF didn't really have time to check-in on you."
"...Maybe. I hadn't exactly said that I was retiring yet though so maybe they didn't even realize I needed to be checked-in-on."
"Ah, well, in that case...Thank you Victor for looking after our Yuri so he can keep competing~!" The Russian laughed, and nudged his partner with an elbow, "We, the JSF, are suuuuper grateful you've helped him see his true potential and be the skater we all knew he could be~!"
Yuri shook his head despite laughing, too, but then paused and nudged his fiancé to stop as well, "No, it would go something more like this..." He explained, and pushed off the man's chest to back up a few steps in front of him, then abruptly went stiff with arms at his sides and a strange look on his face, "Nikiforov Victor-sama! Katsuki Yuri o tasukete kurete arigatou gozaimasu!" He started rather dramatically, trying to be serious, then bowed rather low, his head nearly below hip-level, "Watashitachi no kashitsu o yurushite kudasai!"
Victor stared and blinked in surprise, but his eyes nearly crossed for lack of knowing how to answer, so he said the only thing he could, "Youkoso gozaimasu~!"
"That doesn't make any sense!" Yuri puffed, and lifted just his head, staying in the bowed position as he looked up, "All you said was 'welcome very much!'"
"...Oh, how do I add 'you're' in there then?"
Yuri deadpanned him, "Y...You don't. It doesn't work like that. 'You're welcome' is a whole different word."
"So..."
He lowered his head again - this time with his arms hanging loose under himself - and a few strands of hair came loose from where they'd been gelled in place, "Douitashimashite."
Victor laughed and closed the gap between them again, and used the gentle nudge of a few fingers under his partner's down-turned shoulders to push him vertically again, then stepped right up against his chest. Arms went up to rest over those same shoulders, and the silver tilted his head as he neared, "Douitashimashite, Katsuki Yuri-sama." He whispered seductively, and pressed in for a long kiss.
When those warm lips finally left him, Yuri could only smile anxiously, "You shouldn't use that honorific so recklessly. I might get a big head."
"And yet, it's absolutely the truth," Victor answered, and twisted off again to start them walking back to the hotel once more. One hand went between them to find another to hold, and brought it back to his pocket like before, "Pretty soon it'll evolve into Nikiforov Yuri-sama, too."
"Yeah but -sama implies that I'm your lord or boss or customer...or something."
Victor paused and gasped dramatically, "You're saying you aren't!?"
"Unfortunately," Yuri gave a long, whimsical sigh, "I am not. Even though you said I'd have to pay you one day for coaching me..."
"You're paying me already with all these Gold medals you're winning." The silver teased, and leaned in a bit closer, "So even though you utterly reject how important your Nationals win was, I consider it something like a down-payment. Today you made your first real payment towards my Gold-lust."
"Oh, so I only owe you like 300 more, right?" Yuri sighed, "I really will be 90 before I've paid you back."
"Nope. Only 30, at most." Victor mused, "Start your winning streak this season and you'll be finished by 29."
"That's a relief," Yuri answered sarcastically, one brow cocked up a bit, "I do those all the time, so it should be easy."
Victor smiled wide, and raised a lazy hand towards the other coaches and competitors who were waiting on the curb for the next shuttle to take them back, "Exactly~!"
.
The water was already running when Yuri started to peel out of his track-suit and skating ensemble. His hair felt crunchy and disheveled, but what really started to get his attention was the burning soreness in his legs. After pulling the pant-legs off his heels, he sat back against the edge of their tall bed and rubbed his calves a bit. He glanced up when he saw Victor step out of their bathroom, but then glanced down again, "Stamina or no, my legs are still starting to kill me."
The Russian teased a smirk as he stepped aside to put his jacket away, "Stamina says nothing about whether it'll hurt later." He explained simply, and looked down to the buttons of his coaching costume; fingers deftly started slipping buttons out of their holes, "But speaking of pains...how's that other one faring?" He asked warily, "You're getting around like it doesn't bother you, but...maybe you're just putting on a brave face for my sake."
"I feel like I got kicked in the arse, yeah." Yuri said dryly, then fell back onto the bed and laughed anyway, "I catch myself, now and then, thinking it didn't happen, because I drank too much and maybe I made it up. That maybe I tried to sit down on something but ended up taking a corner instead of the whole seat." He explained, looking up at the ceiling, "But then I can't explain how you did some of the things that I remember you doing...because I don't know anything about this stuff, and I could never explain-away those images as my own creations. I'm not that imaginative."
Victor sputtered; he pulled his tie loose as Yuri spoke, then pulled the bottom of his button-down shirt from his slacks to continue undressing, "Your dreams are vivid as all get-out; don't deny it."
"Well, I mean about that stuff. I've seen things by chance over the years, but I've never actually looked into it...so everything we do is extremely new me."
"And you're doing an impeccable job." The silver pointed out, stepping closer to the bed and away from the mirror he'd been using, "I've actually been rather surprised at how receptive and eager you've been. I thought I'd be teasing you out of your shell for months...but it only took two weeks."
Yuri lifted his head up off the comforter, "...You think I'm taking too this too fast?"
"I just want to be sure you're not going through all this trouble for my sake alone. You should want this for your own reasons, at your own pace." Victor answered, peeling the silk vest off his shoulders, then the button-down shirt underneath it, "You're okay with it all, right? ...I can back off if it's too much at once."
Yuri let his crunchy-haired head drop back down to the blankets, and he closed his eyes for a moment. He then shook his head once and pushed to sit against the edge of the bed again, toes barely able to reach the floor, "I'm...not sure why we took so long to get together, considering how we were most of the summer alone, but my worries have nothing to do with how fast we're going."
Pausing mid-fold, Victor looked up from the corner he'd chosen to put his clothes on, and looked over at the younger man beside him, "...What worries are those then?"
Yuri was the one who paused then, and his eyes diverted, looking down to the Russian's hands. He closed his eyes again and reached for one, pulling it closer to set it on his lap, and pat it gently, "That my inexperience may - or is - a source of frustration for you. I heard in Detroit fairly often that you should test-drive your ride before you buy...or bed your consort before you pledge a lifelong commitment to them."
"Mh... Americans." Victor scoffed lightly, "A people who've largely lost the idea of romance and courting in the fog of all their 'we're the best'-isms."
"...What do you mean?"
"They've made love nearly taboo." He answered curtly, "I generally can't take them too seriously on this. I'd ask you to forget everything you learned while State-side, but I'd worry half your skating chops would go with it."
"So...what should I do then...?"
Victor paused for a moment in thought, bare-chested as he was where he stood. He then stepped over and leaned down, hands on his beloved's shoulders, "That time we came back from the St. Petersburg Christmas Market, and you asked me to be your coach in love... I want you to let me do that. Ignore all the scary things you've heard elsewhere...and just let us be us, in our own way."
Yuri blinked in confusion, "I'm not totally sure how this relates to whether you're frustrated at my innocence or not."
"I'm trying to say that it isn't something I worry about." He answered, and offered a reassuring kiss before he stood upright again, and pulled his partner's hands up with him, "I haven't been with anyone in years. Being with you, here and now, in whatever form that takes, makes me very happy. I don't want you to ever think that I'm not getting what I need from you. If you're happy, I'm getting everything I could ever ask for."
"...I see..." Yuri answered contemplatively. He cast his eyes on that pale physique in front of him, smiled, and stood up to join the man at eye-level, "Then we're doing pretty well, I think, right?"
"Are you saying that you're happy?"
He nodded, eyes shining, "I'm the happiest I've ever been." He explained, "...The only thing that could make me happier is a shower and a good, long cuddle."
"Mmh... I think I'm up to the task. Come." The silver beckoned, taking half a step backward, "I'm sure the water's hot by now."
.
The dim lights of the arena were lowered to nearly black; the Four Continents Exhibition Gala was underway.
Yuri, bedecked in the blue variant of his idol's last Free Skate costume, stepped onto the barely-visible barrier between concrete and ice. His toe-picks could taste the frost, but he waited in place for the spotlight.
"Ladies and Gentlemen," The overhead announcer called, and the audience quieted down a bit, "Your Four Continents Men's Singles Gold Medalist...representing Japan...Yuri Katsuki."
Spotlights shone down on the aforementioned skater from high above, illuminating him as he stood alone on the edge of the ice. With one nudge, he glided forward, the tails of his sheer blue jacket flowing behind him like an ethereal cape. The audience clearly recognized the outfit, and their cheers changed to raucous celebration. Yuri had no doubt that a good chunk of the crowd was aware of that ages-old viral video, and the incredible story that followed. For that, he knew, this performance would be something out of this world.
Morooka's voice came up for the television audience, "Skater Yuri's Exhibition is the Free Skate of his coach, Victor Nikiforov, from last season."
Yuri paused in center, finished his waves to the unseen crowd, and bowed his head with a knowing smile. One toe-pick went to the ice behind the other, and he waited. The music then began - soft piano keys instead of the expected intro - and Yuri began as well.
Sento una voce che piange lontano
Victor approached the rink-wall with the classic thunk'ing sound of skate-guards on concrete. Other participants were surprised to see him there, thinking he'd be on the other side of the arena with some of the other coaches. They were even more surprised when they realized he had his skates on, but not only that; it seemed like there was something shining through the small gap in the front of his long-coat.
JJ stood nearby as well, looking at the man awkwardly as Yuri's performance went on.
Anche tu, sei stato forse abbandonato?
He ignored the cheers of the crowd as the Gold medalist landed the first quad of the program, more attention paid to the confusing spectacle still residing in the dark at rink-side. The Canadian realized, under Victor's tan-brown trench coat, a particular magenta jacket was the source of the shimmer; rather, the silver cords that hung across the abdomen.
What in the world is he planning? He's acting like he thinks he can just walk into any rink he likes...! JJ thought nervously, Does the ISU know about this?
Orsù finisca presto questo calice di vino
It seemed like Victor heard him though, and he turned his head, and gave the Canadian something of a daring smirk.
E inizio a prepararmi
"...You...can't be serious... You weren't even in practice this morning; you're going to mess him up."
"Worry more about yourself, Leroy." Victor said simply, then pulled off the coat to casually set it over a chair behind the rink wall.
Adesso fa' silenzio
Yuri finished the final jump before the cue, and as the audience clapped for the success of the maneuver...the lights flashed onto Victor. Yuri held his hand out and waited...and the stadium completely lost its shit.
Victor skated out and went for his beloved's outstretched hand, stroking his cheek gently as he came closer, and the two began their Exhibition skate.
Together.