ONE HUNDRED ELEVEN
"Let's go again!" Yuri suggested excitedly, "It's really coming together now!"
Yurio and Viktor were huffing and puffing on the rink wall.
"You're a monster." The blonde jeered between breaths, sliding down to sit on the ice, "How do you have so much goddamn stamina!? We did it like 8 times!"
The oldest of the three propped his ankle up over one knee, brushing away the ice that had collected on his blades, "This is why he's doing five quads, remember?"
"Does he ever get tired!?"
Yuri slid forward on gold blades and crouched down, perched in front of the Russian Punk on his toe picks, "What's wrong? Viktor wears me down almost every day."
Yurio went slack-jawed, his face going bright red. Viktor blinked once and then burst out laughing.
"...I walked right into that one." The teen lowered his face.
"Yes you did." The Asian skater gently pat the teen's head and then rose back up to his full height before skating away innocently.
The silver-haired figure was wiping tears out of his eyes from laughing so hard, "He got you good."
"...As if the idea of you two bumping uglies wasn't bad enough, now he has to put the thought in my head where I can't make it go away." Yurio scratched his head with both hands, then gawked over at his former rink-mate, "I hope you're satisfied."
"Well, it's been about 12 hours...but, yes, generally speaking..." Viktor mused, only to lean closer and nudge the blonde with an elbow, "...Very satisfied." He then skated away before Yurio could bluster at him, though he laughed to himself as he heard the teen's protestations behind him. As he casually glided by Yuri, he saw his partner standing idly with his phone in his hand, typing something into a text message, "Who's that?"
"Phichit-kun." He answered happily, "He's agreed. I'm just confirming that I got his answer." He looked up as Viktor came closer to see what he'd written, feeling the man's arm come up to rest over his shoulder, "We'll have to get the other ticket as soon as we get back. He says he'll reimburse us at NHK."
"Eh?" The Russian said, confused, "...Oh, gimme that." He then swiped Yuri's phone to type something himself. [We'll cover your ticket.] He hit send and handed the phone back, skating around him in lazy circles afterward.
Yuri glanced at him as he went, but then looked down at his phone to see Phichit freaking out.
[Thank you so much! Yuri, you're the best! I can't wait!]
He didn't have the heart to say it was Viktor who'd sent the message, so he just typed a reply like it was him the whole time.
[You don't mind rooming with us if Ciao Ciao isn't there at the Final?]
[I should be asking YOU that!]
[We've already discussed it. It's all good. But that doesn't mean you can slack off! I want to see you SKATE in Detroit!]
[Right!?]
[I'll do my best! The competition is stiff this year! Everyone's been putting on their A-game from the start because Viktor's back! You should've heard the banter at Skate America!]
[What was being said?]
[Exactly what I thought they would when I said it in Hasetsu! Fans, officials, other skaters from across all disciplines...they're all looking at this like some big Viktor vs You event.]
[I've heard some rookies saying they think Viktor took time off to coach you just so he could train you to be his only legitimate competition when he did come back, like no one else was worth skating against.]
[The other big-name regulars are trying really hard to get attention because interviewers keep asking what they're going to do when they face-off against you two at later events.]
[I even heard at the Skate America Banquet that the ISU officials planned it this way to build hype for the Final.]
[They're counting on you and Viktor to win Gold at all of your events so the Final is a huge deal.]
[...No pressure.]
Yuri could feel himself starting to sweat, and glanced up from his phone to see Viktor playfully chasing Yurio across the other end of the rink.
[I don't know what's coming down the grapevine right now in Moscow, but I bet everyone's talking about the Team Skate EX show you and Viktor said you wanted to do with the Russian Yuri. Not to mention...you singing Viktor's Short Program.]
[They hype is real, Yuri!]
[Wow...]
[What song is it anyway? Something original?]
[No, it's a cover of 'History Maker.']
[When we were passing through Incheon on our way back from Four Continents, Viktor asked me to pick a song I liked so he could use it for his Short Program this season. He half-planned the whole performance on the spot after that. I ended up singing it to him at one point for some reason, and I guess he got it into his head that I should do my own version of the song later.]
[What he consistently fails to mention is that he sang parts of it, too.]
[He did? But it's just one guy doing vocals on that, if I remember it right...]
[The chorus, where it sounds like there's an echo. He's the echo. He thought it would be fitting, because the parts that I sing are from a singular 'I/me' perspective, but then the chorus is from a plural 'us/we' perspective.]
[Ooohhhhh...]
[Can he sing? wkwkwkwk]
[He's better than I am, I think.]
[You'd say that! -^_^- I can't wait to hear it! I'll be watching the LiveStream for sure now!]
[Anyway, Ciao Ciao is trying to get my attention. I'll talk to you soon, and see you in Japan!]
[Pai laew na krab]
Yuri clicked his phone off and put it back in his pocket, looking up and around to spot where the two Russian skaters had gone. It didn't take long, and it was rather good timing, too...since Yurio was backing up quickly in his direction, and Viktor pummeled right into him. Yuri was caught in the crossfire and frantically held onto the both of them as Viktor kept pushing them back along the ice.
"Idiot!" Yurio barked, "I don't want to be in the middle of your stupid gay sandwich!"
"Don't you know? We make our own topping." The older Russian teased.
Yuri's face went red instantly, but Yurio basically died.
Viktor just kept laughing.
.
.
.
As far as event hotels went, the Novotel Bordeaux Centre Mériadeck wasn't the worst either of them had ever seen. But...the rooms left them making a lot of really crude jokes at the expense of all the other participants.
"There's only one queen size bed in every room, maybe two small twin beds really close together." Viktor started, setting their things on the desk on the far end of the small space, "And the 3-person room at the Ibis next door has a bunk-bed on top of the double-bed..."
"I guess a lot of coaches and athletes are going to be getting really well acquainted this weekend."
Viktor laughed at that, but then slouched over Yuri's back, "If only you'd been made to come here last year, you couldn't have avoided me for so long. We could've gotten 'really well acquainted' earlier on..."
The younger skater just blushed, "My old self would never have slept."
"Just think of it..." The Russian went on, starting to pretend like it was the year before, "...Oh look, Yuri! There's only one bed! What'll we do!?"
"...I'll sleep on the floor?" He played along.
"Never! You're the athlete! You have to be in peak health, so you have to sleep on the bed!" Viktor practically spun, wrapped his arms around the younger figure, and pulled him side-ways to the bed, "Don't worry, Yuri...I'll keep you warm on these cold winter nights..."
Even then, Yuri's cheeks got a little pink, "You did that anyway, remember?"
"...I did?"
"You forgot!?" The younger figure pushed himself up onto his elbow, "But-"
Viktor scratched his head, "Oh, wait...it was right before your meltdown, right?"
"Uhh... Yeah!"
"Da, now I remember..." The Russian held up a finger as he smiled at the memory, "I made you try to sleep until you had to go do your show, so I stripped you down to next to nothing and then held you down so you wouldn't try to get up again!"
"And by the time we were in Barcelona, even before I got the rings, you were pushing the beds together." Yuri explained, "That time you came in with Chris from the pool, you both had to vault over your bed because it was right up against mine, so you couldn't just go between them to maul me with both of your miserably cold and wet, nearly-naked bodies."
"That was fun." Viktor reminisced fondly, "There's a pool here, too...and Chris should arrive soon. You should come this time since you aren't jetlagged! Then all three of us can take sexy poolside pictures!"
"Maybe..." The younger figure sighed to himself anxiously, sitting up and resting his elbows over his crossed knees, "...Who even took that photo of you two with your legs in the air anyway?"
Viktor paused, eyes going wide...but then laughed nervously, "...I have no idea."
.
.
.
It wasn't worth it to get a cab or even take a bus to the rink since the event hotel was literally right up the street, so when the start of the Men's Single's Short Program was about to begin, pretty much everyone just walked.
Even though it was still raining.
Since squaring things away with the RSF the previous year after worrying so much that they'd spurned him, Viktor had gotten a new track suit for the start of the season. Though it looked much like the previous ensemble, this one had a different color scheme. The decorative line of trim that trailed from the collar-bone to the wrists was hemmed in red, as was the outline of the R and U emblazoned on the chest, though the letters themselves were white. With the exception of the upper parts of the sleeves being white, the rest of the outfit was black. For flare though, the double-headed imperial eagle, Russia's official Coat of Arms, was emblazoned on the back in place of the old Olympic logo, with the wings wrapping around to the front of the coat.
Yuri looked much more subdued, dressed up almost like he normally did when not skating. He wore the same coat and scarf that he'd had in Barcelona though, and had both his and Viktor's event badges hanging around his neck. In a vague attempt at looking more official, he had donned his glasses once more. He held to Viktor's right hand as they walked, dragging his luggage behind them and his carry-bag over one shoulder, while the Russian held up a large blue umbrella overtop of them.
The media mob already started when they got out onto the streets, with the number growing steadily as they got closer to the Patinoire Mériadeck. Fans were spilling out into the streets, flashing photography alongside all the sports journalists despite the umbrellas obscuring most every athlete who hadn't turned to greet them.
Viktor was never one to stay hidden for long though, and as the crowds got larger, he waved more enthusiastically. One group screamed out as they saw him, and he spun around with the umbrella still in hand to tousle his hair dramatically and wink at them. As the umbrella moved though, it practically scooped Yuri up to make him move around with it, settling him down again only long enough for it to happen again as Viktor turned about-face to the sound of a familiar voice yelling after him.
"Chris!" The Russian waved, returning that hand to clasp once more to his husband's as the Swiss skater came rushing up to them, carrying his own clear umbrella with him. His coach was staying behind though, walking without urgency despite his athlete rushing ahead.
"Oh, Yuri!" The blond huffed as he caught his breath, "I didn't see you there at first. You look so official." He winked at the younger skater.
"He's my coach for the weekend!" Viktor announced proudly, turning to walk again with Chris in tow.
"Coach Yuri...that's entertaining."
"...We figured it was the best way to get me in like normal." Yuri whispered from Viktor's opposite side, "So far, no one's actually asked me what I'm doing as a coach this year. Hopefully no one does...!"
"I think the big question on everyone's mind is with regard to you singing Viktor's SP music." Chris said with a sultry smile, "Maybe I should have you do one for me, too. If he likes it, it must be good. Coach Viktor is notoriously picky."
"Pfft, I'm not that picky..." The Russian protested.
"You had Aria completely redone for your Pair Skate Exhibition."
"I had to. I needed all the bad parts taken out! The song wouldn't be right for us to do together if I hadn't."
"Mhm."
"Congrats on Gold at Skate America, by the way." Yuri spoke up, "I guess you're taking this all more seriously again now that Viktor's back?"
"Naturally." The Swiss skater nodded, "Congrats on your own Gold at Skate Canada. I hope you don't bail on the Banquet here though."
"No no no no!" Yuri protested emphatically, "I was sick before! That's the only reason I didn't go!"
"Sick? Oh, right, you did mention that... But sick with what? You looked fine during your Free Skate."
"I lost my voice after the Short Program." He admitted sheepishly, "It took 3 or so days to get over it. Every time I looked up or turned my neck too far, I'd start coughing. I was lucky to make it through my Free Program without hacking up my entire esophagus."
"Not bad then, to win 1st prize while in that condition. I guess it was Viktor's doing then that you reduced your insane five-quad program down to three?"
"Mh." Yuri nodded, "I'll be back to five at the Final though. My Free Skate will look completely different now that I'm better again."
"He's going to win Gold at the Final this time." Viktor announced happily.
"What about you?" Chris wondered.
"I'm going to win Gold, obviously."
The blonde shook his head and laughed as they went up the last steps to get into the venue, surrounded by blockaded fans and reporters on all sides, screaming for their attention, "Compartmentalization at its finest."