CHAPTER SIXTY FIVE

Viktor had done his absolute best to stay awake as long as possible after they got home again, despite the fact that he'd effectively been awake for more than a day, not counting his brief naps along the way back. Yuri hadn't made it easy, falling asleep numerous times while they reviewed footage of the World Championships.

Every time Viktor would point out some maneuver that could use improvement, or which had seemingly become so mastered that it was flawless, Yuri had dozed off again.

"...Yuri…" He grumbled, stepping back to the couch from where he'd been pointing at something on the television screen. He touched the man's shoulder to rouse him, "Yuri."

The man snorted as he awoke with a start, looking around quickly before looking up at his husband, "Whu-"

"You keep falling asleep."

The younger man was practically turning to liquid as he drooped off the couch, "Viktorit'sbeenawholedaysincewesleptpleaseletmegotobeeeedddd..."

"But-"

"I know you want to go over the footage, but it's not going anywhere." Yuri finally said from his puddle on the floor, "I can't even remember what you've saaaaaaaid!"

"But it's only-"

"Viktoooooor!" He was practically crying he was so tired.

The Russian knelt down so he wasn't looming so intensely, and stroked where Yuri's hair was getting disheveled again, "Fine, fine..."

He was up with a start, kissed Viktor's forehead and literally ran to the bedroom, jumping into the bed with too-much enthusiasm. It was a few minutes before Viktor finally followed, and he just sat on top of the covers for a while. Yuri had wrapped his arms as well as he could around the man's waist before passing out, his grip becoming lax the further into sleep he dove.

Viktor sighed, looking at the bubble where Mikhail's message was still stored, and clicked it again to listen to it against his ear.

Why in the world would she set up a life insurance plan with just me as the beneficiary? Nothing about any of this makes any sense. We didn't even have a relationship...why would this sort of thing cross her mind after we stopped talking outright?

Yuri stirred a little, lifting his head from where it had been wedged against Viktor's leg. He mumbled a little before settling again, "...I know you don't want to sleep, but you really should."

"The sooner I sleep, the sooner tomorrow comes."

"The sooner tomorrow comes, the sooner next week comes." Yuri pointed out, "And all the things you're looking forward to so much about going back to Hasetsu."

"Why do you have to make sense?" The Russian wondered, setting his phone aside to stroke his husband's hair.

"Wisdom oft come from the mouths of babes...and on a rare occasion, the mouths of really-tired SkateHusbands." He answered, moving just enough to encourage the older man to lay down.

Viktor sighed and stood up, pulled his sweater and slacks off, and joined his partner under the covers. Yuri immediately wrapped his arms around the man's head and pulled it close to his chest, protectively holding him there.

"It'll be fine." He said, "Maybe you won't even have to see Konstantin. Not like he was involved in the process beyond giving that lawyer Mikhail's information. He has no business in the rest of it. I don't know a whole lot about life insurance or inheritance or whatever, but if your mom went this far out of her way to make sure Konstantin didn't even know the policy existed, then it means he had no part in it and can't act like a grizzly-bear gatekeeper. He can't force you to deal with him to get what's yours."

"I already have what's mine. I don't need what's hers, too."

"It's always been yours."

"We don't even know how much it is."

"It's not going to be lunch money." Yuri pointed out, gently moving his thumb back and forth through Viktor's silver hair, "It could cover your skating upkeep for years to come."

"And all the surgeries my back and knees will need if I keep skating past the ancient age of 31?"

"Don't invite trouble." Yuri huffed, "And 31 really isn't that old."

"I'm going be a fossil soon."

"I perfectly normal, incredibly attractive fossil with thick and beautiful hair." Yuri clarified. He didn't see the look Viktor gave him for it, "Your mom's side of the family seems to have good genes. If Mikhail really is your nearly-60-year-old reflection, you're going to be a really hot old guy."

"So you think my uncle's hot?"

"My 60-year-old self thinks so, sure, but by the time either of us is that old, Mikhail's going to be 80 or something."

"At which point he'll look like a fish."

"Yeah, probably." Yuri laughed, "And by then, we will be known as Pisces instead of Viktuuri."

"My future self is rolling in his grave already."

"We could always go the cremation route and turn you into a little blue diamond if you prefer."

"Wait, what?" Viktor lifted his head as well as he could, looking up at his partner, "They can do that?"

"Sure." The Asian nodded, "Heck, if we go together, we could get our ashes mixed and turned into a slightly bigger blue diamond."

"Hmph..." He settled back to where Yuri had been holding him before, listening to his heart beating quietly under his skin, "Much as I like to think neither of us is left behind for long, I'd rather not think about being gone at all."

"Same." Yuri nuzzled the top of Viktor's head, "So let's be grateful that tomorrow is coming for us at all and meet it head-on. We'll sell the house, get your insurance pay-out, help Yurio get set-up with Mikhail's sponsorship, and then work on getting this place packed up. As soon as we're back at Yu-Topia, we can soak in the hot spring and mom can make us both pork cutlet bowls for our wins at the World Championships."

"Mmmh...vkusno~!"

.

.

.

The knock came sooner than expected. Yuri's head popped up first, and he scrambled for his phone on the nightstand, lamenting how it wasn't turning on, then reaching for Viktor's on the other side and seeing that it was 2:19pm.

"Viktor! Mikhail's here! We slept over 12 hours!"

Makkachin was barking at the front door.

The Russian didn't want to wake up though and just rolled over, pulling the blankets back up, "Five more minutes."

"Mikhail's at the door now!"

"So go let him in and then come back to bed." The Russian sleep-mumbled.

Another knock. More barking.

Yuri finally pulled himself out of the bed and stumbled towards the front door, looking entirely disheveled, his t-shirt and sweat pants unkempt. He shuffled the big poodle out of the way and pulled the door open, momentarily blinded by the sun as it shone directly into the house. Makkachin ran out and jumped at the figure outside excitedly.

"Hey Yuri." Mikhail said with a laugh, trying to keep the dog from jumping on him too much, "Sleep well?"

"Glad I recognize your voice cuz you're a big grey-white blotch right now." Yuri answered, rubbing his eyes to get his vision normal again, "Come inside so I can close the door."

The elder Russian coaxed the dog back through the threshold and then followed after, letting Yuri do as he'd planned, and looking around. Yuri blinked deliberately a few times until he no longer saw so many spots, and he glanced up to see Viktor's uncle pulling his coat and scarf off.

"Yeah, I thought it would look like this." Mikhail mused, setting his shoes along the wall near the door, "All modern."

"Viktor likes lamps." Yuri pointed out, "He likes it bright inside."

"I meant everything overall." The man clarified, "There isn't an antique in this place. Maybe it's only obvious to me though, since I know where he grew up."

"He seems to like the rustic half-antiqueness of Hasetsu."

"That's because it's Japan."

Yuri smiled, "I guess that...yeah."

"Anyway, where is Viktor?"

"Refusing to admit today's already here."

"I'm here, I'm here..." Came the man's voice as he shuffled out of the far hall, tying a bathrobe around himself, "We overslept a little."

"I can see that!" Mikhail laughed, "When did you finally go to bed? That middle-of-the-night flight was brutal."

"Uhh..." Yuri thought back, "I think it was like...6?"

"And now it's 2...you both slept for nearly 20 hours."

"Yeesh..."

"Guess you needed it after your Free Skates and the Gala." Mikhail shrugged, tapping his carry-bag with his foot, "This can wait for a while if you need to wake up."

"Nah, let's just get to it. We told Yurio we'd be at his place by 4." Viktor said, yawning a little as he walked past them to get to the kitchen to feed his dog. Once that was done, he went to pull the paperwork he'd dug out of storage after his and Yuri's tryst the morning before, and quietly set everything on the tiled part of the kitchen island while his uncle set his bag on the shorter wooden table-attachment next to it.

Within 30 minutes, the details had been hammered out, and Viktor nervously signed the final bill of sale to give the house away. Mikhail cut a check right there and handed that over before stuffing everything back into his bag.

Viktor looked at the check with distant eyes. He could hardly believe it had really happened.

"I can have the bulk of your things professionally packed and shipped once you've found your new place." Mikhail was saying, "So you don't have to deal with that on top of everything else."

Viktor just turned his head and handed the check to his husband, "Put it into safe keeping until later."

"Okay..."

"You got my voicemail I'm guessing." Mikhail went on, finishing the last of the coffee Yuri had made them.

"Please tell me Konstantin doesn't have to be part of all this." Viktor said into his hands where he'd clasped them over the bridge of his nose, his thumbs pressing the corners of his eyes, "Please."

"He's being nosy. He's the big, bad, ultra-Orthodox Christian patriarch, and his wife did something behind his back. It involves a son he disowned, and now he's been contacted by a lawyer that he didn't even know existed until a week or so ago. If you were him, wouldn't you want to know what was going on?"

"I can't think from his perspective because I'm not insane."

"How did you feel when you found out Yuri and I were talking behind your back?"

Viktor paused, recalling the night in question. Yuri had gone even more silent than before. The Russian sighed, "I was furious enough to unlock Yuri's phone with his thumbprint while he was still asleep."

"See?" Mikhail roughly pat his nephew's shoulder, "Konstantin's wife did something she shouldn't have and without his knowledge or consent, just like your own spouse did. He has the right to be angry about it."

"And he can continue to be angry about it from the comfort of his own rancid little shack in the woods."

"I think he's just annoyed because of what the papers have been saying." Mikhail said, pulling a rolled up newspaper from a different section of his back and unfurling it for the pair to see. On the front cover was a full-color image featuring Viktor, a standing photo of himself in his Russian track-suit, with a shot of his Short Program on the left of himself and the Free Skate on the right.

The Cyrillic was impossible for Yuri to read, but Viktor spared him the confusion by translating it out loud, "National Figure Skating Legend, Viktor Nikiforov, wins Silver at the World Championships." The under-title said even more, "Did he give away his gold to the Japanese skater he trained last year?"

Yuri noticed the small inset photo of himself further down the article.

Viktor was still reading, mouthing the words but not saying anything aloud as he went. Mikhail watched quietly.

"It's basically asking if I let you win." The Russian explained, setting the paper down, "Like I wasn't even trying."

"You set a new Short Program and Total Score record, and landed the world's first quad axel. Did the article mention any of that?" Yuri wondered.

"No."

"That's the media for you." Mikhail said as Viktor slouched back, disappointed, "They care less about the actual achievement than they do about the perception a part of it might leave."

"I'm surprised they didn't get into the fact that we're married, too."

"That would be an embarrassment." Mikhail reluctantly explained, "Suggesting one of Russia's national heroes is involved in a same-sex relationship would make the whole rest of the developed world crawl up Putin's arsehole to make him recognize LBGTQ stuff in Russia. But, Putin's so far up the Patriarch's arsehole that he'd never allow it. If Viktor didn't have gloves on for those programs, or his hands in his pockets for the smaller center inset, I'm certain the editors would've Photoshopped his ring out."

Yuri's brow furrowed and he went running back to the bedroom where he'd plugged his phone in after the battery had died, and started rifling through the sports news on Japanese networks. To his horror, sure enough, his own ring had been edited out as well, and he walked back to the kitchen like he'd been kicked in the stomach.

"They did it to me back home...or they picked photos that didn't have my hands visible." He said, "The only place that didn't was the ISU."

"They're pretty conservative, too, but they'd be eaten alive by international Viktuuri fans if they did anything to deny that you two are involved. It's one thing to straight-wash lesser-known skaters, but you two...well, you're international champions. They can't just mess with you like that. It's honestly, probably, for the best that you guys move to Japan. Even if they edit your rings out of local publications, you won't face nearly the backlash that you might here in Russia."

"I know." Viktor sighed, "I spent most of yesterday watching out for trouble."

"...Is that what you were Meerkating for?" Yuri was surprised.

"There's only one nightclub in St. Petersburg that allows same-sex couples to be who they are, and routinely, there are hecklers who wait outside to harass people as they come out. The night before we got back home, there was a beating, and a male couple had to go to the hospital."

Yuri was stunned by it, "...Japan doesn't have stuff like that happen."

"Japan has schooolgirls who offer to sell old men the opportunity to smell their panties, while still wearing them." Mikhail teased, much to Yuri's chagrin, "I even heard there's vending machines with used panties in them for sale."

"Whaaaaaat?"

"Then there's the whole hentai industry..." The elder continued, "Half the population thinks Japan is the most perverted place on Earth!"

Yuri pulled back from where he'd been leaning on Viktor's chair, "Th-that's ridiculous."

"You had the luxury of being born into one of the most polite societies in the world." Mikhail went on, "And yet, also, one of the most curious. All this stuff that people are allowed to dabble in, and you get a population with one of the lowest rates of sexual crime anywhere, but it comes with the adage of being looked at as sexually deviant, even if they're still conservative enough behind closed doors not to recognize same-sex marriage."

"Yeah, and one of the lowest and declining birth rates of any 1st world nation." Yuri defended.

"All the fun without all the responsibility?" The older man laughed, making Yuri's face go red again, "No, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make this whole thing so political. I only meant to say that even if Japan doesn't officially recognize your relationship, you won't be all that bothered there. Even the most strident conservative is still polite enough to not threaten you to your face."

Yuri looked over to where his husband was avoiding eye-contact with them, "Have you been looking over your shoulder the entire time I've been here with you…?"

"...Sort of."

"That's terrible."

"Remember the Grand Prix Banquet, when Mila pulled me aside?"

"Sure."

"She mentioned how scared she was for us. I didn't want to think about it because I was just so happy, but..." He shook his head, "And that night, when I asked you if you were worried...I didn't mean future skating competitions."

Yuri stepped forward and put his arms over Viktor's shoulders to hug him tight, "We need to get out of here."

"Let's go deal with this thing with Plisetsky." Mikhail said, trying to get off the topic.