CHAPTER FOURTY SEVEN

-Through the best of times, and the worst of times...-

It was nearly 2am when the SkateHusbands finally returned to their hotel. Victor was practically dead on his feet, and Yuri guided him inside as well as he could; he waved at the taxi van as it left to take its remaining occupants back to their own hotels. While the pair waited for the elevator, Victor parked himself behind his husband, barely able to hold himself up on his own two feet there. He leaned his head against Yuri's shoulder as he dozed, hands hooked to each other where they came around the man's front. The ding of the elevator forced him into lucidity again, and Victor tiredly followed his beloved out of the small - and thankfully empty - chamber.

A few more minutes, and Yuri had his exhausted spouse tipped back against the side of the bed, barely conscious enough to be able to undress himself. Yuri was happy to help though, and he took Victor's coat, scarf, shoes, gloves, and other heavy outer-wear before he paused to figure out the items that remained, "Tonight went pretty well, right?" He wondered aloud, and stepped closer. He slid his hands deftly over those broad shoulders, then down again to find the tie at his partner's collar, "I dare say, you were starting to enjoy yourself by the end of it."

Victor blinked long and hard, and couldn't stop the yawn that followed. He lifted his hands to find the pair close to his chin, and pulled them away from his loosened tie to press those heated palms to his cheeks, "I'm a wee bit drunk. I like to think I'm a *hic* ...happy drunk."

Yuri smiled and pulled that sleepy head to his chest, cradling it there gently, "Are you going to remember all this in the morning?"

"I don't tend to forget." The silver reassured, and lazily hugged his arms around that thin waist, "Besides, even if I did, you were there with me, so I can always ask you what happened."

"I guess that's true." Yuri affirmed, and softly stroked his partner's silver hair, "Do you need help getting undressed so you can sleep?"

Victor paused, but then shook his head - rather, rubbed it back and forth slightly - across that warm tummy it was squished against, "I'm not actually that tired."

"Not that tired." Yuri echoed, brows raised, "I practically had to carry you into the building."

That just earned a smarmy grin, "Maybe I just wanted to make you do that." He answered, and looked up innocently, "I do rather enjoy the efforts you go through."

Yuri smiled anxiously and backed away with a laugh, "If that's the case, I'm gonna go shower. My efforts worked up a sweat."

"Don't take too long. I may fall asleep anyway."

"Might not be such a bad thing," Yuri retorted, undoing his own tie as he stepped off, "We have practice early and it's way past bedtime."

Victor huffed a laugh and flopped back dramatically, "Yes, dear."

With the water on, steam started to fog up the mirror, and Yuri stepped gingerly under the spray, letting it wash away the day's dust, sweat, and dirt. Soap, shampoo, conditioner...then just the water. The heat felt good on his skin; it pulled out the soreness of competition away and washed it down the drain. He must've just stood there for 30 minutes, with the water pouring over his head until the mirror was so fogged, it was impossible to see anything close to a reflection in it. It barely showed colored blobs.

And then that very curtain was suddenly and unexpectedly thrown back.

Yuri nearly jumped out of his skin at the fright of it, feet slipping out from under him. He barely managed to clamber for ground and caught grip on the sidea of the tub wall with his toes, staying upright only by the grace of the gods. His heart nearly broke its way out of his chest in protest of being startled to near failure; Yuri composed himself and finally realized Victor was the one who'd pulled the curtain back, "I nearly died just now!" He called hoarsely, a his hand on his chest as he found his way back to stand up normally.

"I told you not to take too long..." Victor countered sleepily, eyes barely half-open, "You know I can't sleep unless you're next to me. It's been almost an hour."

Yuri took a deep breath, the last of his near-fatal-scare finally subsiding, "I'll be there in a minute. I didn't realize how much time passed."

The Russian's sleepy haze gave way to a few slow blinks, and a decision was made behind those watching eyes. He propped one arm up on a nearby wall and lifted one foot to take a sock off, then the other.

Yuri watched in puzzlement as the remaining clothes came off, and Victor stepped into the shower with him.. He turned where he stood and watched the man's hair darken in the water, but then found himself backing up an unsteady step as Victor slid in closer to join him under the stream more directly. He laughed and clung to that dry-tacky body, "Really, I didn't think I'd been in here that long. Or are you committed to being wet now?"

"Committed."

"Alright...let me wash your hair then."

"Mh."

Victor pressed his shoulder to the wall and leaned forward to let his beloved do as he pleased. It was just a simple hair-wash, but the both of them still enjoyed it. There was precious little that Yuri liked more in their private time than getting to do little things as that; the solace of the silence being broken only by the sound of rushing water.

And, occasionally, by someone's curiosity.

"I can only wonder what's been on your mind if you lost track of time like you did," Victor commented, eyes closed as he let the suds wash off his hair, "Though I suppose it's better to worry about stuff in here than on the ice."

Yuri grimaced slightly, "Barely more than the usual stuff... I'm less terrified of tomorrow given my score earlier today, but...I still have to face down the greatest skater of all time to win."

Victor lifted his head, water dripping over his face as he smirked, "I do, too."

"What are you even talking about." Yuri puffed, and squashed a blob of conditioner on that steely-grey hair to get those eyes to look away again.

"You're facing-off against a Nikiforov. So am I." He explained, "I vaguely recall mentioning before that I've never had to push myself this hard before to win. You actually have me nervous. You've got the World Record right now for the Free Skate...and it was tough enough to achieve that myself beforehand."

"...What are you saying?" Yuri asked warily, slowing his massage as he rubbed the conditioner into his husband's hair.

"If setting World Records were easy, everyone would do it." He answered, "To win Gold at this competition, I've already had to retake the record for the Short Program. I'll have to do it all over again tomorrow. For the first time in five years, I face the very real possibility that I may not be the one standing at the top of the podium at the end of it."

Yuri paused in place, but then stepped out of the way to let the water spray down from behind himself, soaking that wet silver hair to rinse the conditioner out, "You've been pushing me so hard to win Gold myself this weekend," He commented quietly, and combed his fingers through to help the water, "Hearing you say that you're nervous that I might...is really weird."

"It's a conundrum," Victor mused, "I am both delighted and terrified. I don't think I've ever felt like this before."

"Well..." Yuri made a face, "You've never really had to worry about anyone else scoring as high before. Even without Tano jumps, you could beat everyone handily."

"Never forget what I told you at All Japan." Victor added suddenly, "About how, no matter what else...I'm glad you're with me at the top."

The shower came to a meandering conclusion, and Yuri thought a good long while on his partner's words. Victor was way ahead of him in getting back into bed, and waded across the small space with little more than a bathrobe and a towel over his bare frame. Yuri bore a towel around his waist and a smaller one over his own hair, which left it damp and spiky and sticking out in every direction. He pulled a t-shirt over his head and a pair of undershorts up his legs, though he knew it was unlikely they'd stay on for long after. There was something about his and his partner's silence that was telling though; there was more to be said than either had been willing to say to that point.

It's been a while now... Yuri thought as he watched his spouse get under the covers, I didn't want to ask him while he was still buzzing...maybe he'll let me now.

"Come to bed?" Victor beckoned, "It's nearly 3:30 now. I wanted to check on Makkachin after practice, but we'll be too tired if we stay up too much later."

Yuri nodded quietly, and put his two damp towels away before he made his way towards the edge of the bed. The lights dimmed as Victor clicked off the lamp on his side, leaving just Yuri's lamp still on. Yuri sat back on the edge of the mattress, rifled around for the blankets, and then twisted under them. He stared up at the ceiling for a moment, and then reached for the light switch...only to pause, and set his hand back down on his chest.

"Let's hear it." Victor commented in a knowing tone. He turned onto his side and pulled a pillow up under his head, eyes watching his quiet spouse. He reached across and grasped at the hand nearest to him, "What is it."

"Minako-sensei spent half the night grilling Mikhail on details I hadn't asked him about before." He started, and turned his hand slightly to gently feel at a few of the fingers pawing at it, "The whole time I had talked to him, I was only focused on getting a feel for the kind of person he was, rather than asking where he'd been all this time... And now, I can't help but wonder...why didn't you ask him anything?"

"Minako was already asking."

"Please don't..." Yuri requested, "Questions coming from you mean something entirely different. Mikhail would've given completely different answers."

"Did you want me to ask him something?"

He drew a stiff breath, "...I'm not sure. I guess I had hoped that you'd want to know where he's been."

"He said as much. He was in the Ukraine, then Canada, and then back to Russia."

"Victor, please, be serious." Yuri pleaded, and clasped that hand with both of his own, "There's so much that happened to you that I don't know, and I don't know how to ask... I'm looking through a tiny keyhole into a huge room, full of memories, full of answers...but you've stuck your finger in it from the other side to keep me out."

Victor hesitated, "Things have already gotten dark enough for us...can't we just leave it alone so it doesn't get even worse?"

"I feel like it'll only get worse if you try to keep me in the dark..." Yuri countered, "Please."

The Russian grumbled quietly to himself, but then steeled his mind and let out a resigned sigh, "...What do you want to know." He said, less as a question than a dare.

"What were you before skating?" Yuri asked pointedly, "What was your family like? How did you even manage to get into skating if your father hates it so much?"

"I was just like any other dumb kid," The silver answered, "I played with my dog, my father worked, my mom stayed home. I got into skating because what else do you do in Russian winter, other than sit around and shiver?"

"You're trying to obfuscate Mikhail on purpose now."

"I was five when he took off. I don't remember much of him anymore." Victor answered, and pulled his hand back so he could roll to his other side and face away, "All I have left of him are the memories I made up to convince myself he was a good person...and the deeply-rooted sense of betrayal when he left me behind."

"But why did he leave?"

"To go to the Ukraine. To better himself. I don't know. Clearly, what he had wasn't worth sticking around for."

Yuri paused in sad quiet, but then dared to slip closer, and propped himself up on one elbow as he barely leaned over his partner's side; enough to see the man's bitter expression, "I don't think he left solely because he was looking for greener pastures. He's been holding back the information as stubbornly as you have been. I think the only person he'd tell the full truth to is you."

"And I don't want to know."

"But why not?" Yuri begged.

"Because I don't want to find out that the reason he left was because of me."

Yuri balked, brows furrowed even as his eyes were wide in surprise, "...But...how...? How could a five year old kid be responsible?"

"That's why I don't want to ask. I don't want to know." Victor answered, and pulled one hand up to rub the heel of his palm against his stinging eyes. He gasped in pain as he pressed against the left side, "Cyka blyat why does it still hurt so much!?" He snarled. He pushed up to sit and held his hand over that cheek like a protective cage, "Why does everything hurt so much...!?"

Yuri's brow furrowed even more then, "...Where else do you still have pain...?"

"My eye, my cheek, my chest...ribs..." He answered angrily, "Everywhere he left a mark..."

"...And you still skated that hard in this condition." Yuri sighed. He sat beside his frustrated husband and slid his arm gently around the man's back, and kissed the nearest shoulder, "Everything's just gone so wrong since we moved to Russia... The RSF conference, the funeral, your father, everything else... I can't help but feel like things would be better if we...were back in Hasetsu again."

Victor hissed a breath as he pulled his hand back, and checked his palm as though it might have blood on it all over again, "...I can't believe the Hells I've dragged you through." He commented, "Nine perfect months in Japan, and it took less than three in Russia to consider going right back."

"Let's move to Hasetsu." Yuri suggested, "There's no danger, and nothing to worry about. We have a skating rink nearly to ourselves...you don't even have to consider practicing overnight. Everyone there supports and loves us. We wouldn't have to start over, either. We'd just pick up where we left off."

Victor nodded slightly with the last few points, and snuffled a pained breath before speaking again, "...This last month, going to the rink overnight..." He started, "I had near as much time to think about things as I did to practice. It crossed my mind so many times to suggest just...packing everything up, to go back to Hasetsu."

"Why didn't you?"

He puffed a sad laugh, "...Because I didn't want you to think I'd given up."

"Victor..."

"I didn't think it was even possible for so much to go wrong in such a short period of time." He continued, this time more-carefully rubbing his eyes to avoid the shock of pain the last attempt had caused, "There were so many times, coming back from the rink, I worried that you wouldn't be there anymore. That you'd just had enough, and got a cab to take you to the airport, to go back home where it's safe...away from me."

"...I could never do that."

"And every time I found you, I was so happy you were still there." Victor acknowledged, and lifted his head to look to the side, seeing his husband's legs under the blankets beside him, and the one hand that had found his own again, "But I could never be sure that there wasn't a limit. That there wouldn't be some event or circumstance where you'd finally had enough, and had to cut your losses. I just..." He struggled, his throat starting to hurt, "...I just didn't want to lose you. And now I just feel like I've trapped you. I took you to Barcelona at the drop of a dime, and made you marry me so it would be harder for you to leave."

"You didn't trap me." Yuri corrected quickly, "I'd already agreed to marry you. Remember? I said I wanted you to be mine until I retired, and you told me that you hoped I never did...so we could always be together. So it's just like the mayor said... That piece of paper didn't create anything that didn't already exist between us. I would stay by your side whether we had it or not."

"...You probably just think I'm a basket-case now." Victor lamented, and turned his eyes away again in shame, "All these abandonment issues I have."

"No..." Yuri retorted. He moved the blankets around to make room, and then slid one leg over his husband's lap. He pulled himself over to sit over center, pressed his hands gently against each cheek, and slouched slightly to look evenly into those scared blue eyes, "I see someone who's been alone for a very long time. You've had the eyes of the whole world on you for so long, watching every move you made - on and off the ice - that you hardly had time to think about what you needed. Maybe that's why it was so easy for you to go to Hasetsu last year; you were ready to leave that life behind, to have something of your own, just for you. In Hasetsu, there may have been the odd reporter now and then, but by and large...it's probably been the quietest, simplest, most private time you've had in ages. You've had time to think about what you want...and even though it's weird to say this since it's me, but...you finally have what you want. I will never leave you. If jumping on Konstantin at the Summer Garden wasn't proof enough...I don't know what could top that."

"...That was a crazy thing you did. You know that." Victor huffed, and swallowed a hard knot in his throat as he allowed himself to rest his hands over his beloved's legs, "And in a million years you better never do it again."

Yuri just smiled, "We shouldn't ever see Konstantin again, so...hopefully I won't have to." He posed, and rubbed his thumbs gently to dry the smear of tears from under his husband's eyes, "So...are we moving back to Hasetsu after this weekend?"

There was hardly any hesitation; Victor nodded, "...I think...that's a safe bet. Let's do it."

"That's good to hear." Yuri said, "I feel like a huge weight just came off our shoulders."

Victor leaned forward and wrapped both arms around his beloved's thin frame, hugging him tight, "I love you more than you could ever know... I don't know how I'd ever do this without you."

"That's why we're doing it together. Because I love you just as much."