CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED FOURTY ONE
The trip back to the Banquet hall included a brief switch from the turtleneck sweater to just the button-down and blazer. Feeling much cooler, Yuri had no trouble getting his bearings back. He still had his husband's tie around his head though, and the thought of returning to just the same old boring champagne was almost depressing.
"Neh, Viktor..." He turned and tugged a little on his partner's suit coat, just above where he held his hand between them, "Let's go down to the first floor before going back."
"What's on the first floor?"
"Didn't you see the bar?"
"...You want more to drink?"
"The champagne I had before is wearing off already and I'd rather not down half another bottle. It just sounds sad."
"Only when you say it like that." The Russian mused, letting himself be pulled towards the elevators.
"Get something fancy with me!"
The temptation was overwhelming, and Viktor was finding it harder and harder to resist. The last time either of them had drank into the night together was at Four Continents, but back then, Mari and Minako were playing chaperone to make sure they didn't get into any weird or troublesome shenanigans. The Russian hadn't gone drinking into the early morning since getting engaged though, and he was sorely missing the fun of it.
...The last time I even got half-toasted was at last year's Cup of China, I think... He reflected, looking up at the designer light fixtures as they waited. Yuri had busied himself with a few lazy ballet moves, slowly making his way around in a big circle. He'd tied the sleeves of his sweater around his neck though, letting the body of it hang over his back, looking something like a cape as he twirled. Yuri got really embarrassed by the photos Phichit posted though.
Ding.
They moved through the opening doors, and waited for the carriage to start lowering them to the ground floor. Yuri was still bouncing up onto his toes as they went, trying not to disturb the three other people in the elevator with them. Viktor glanced around, smiling pleasantly at the patrons who were gawking at him excitedly, and then followed his husband out when the doors opened again.
When they were in the doorway to the bar area, he looked at the big display behind the counter. There were easily half a hundred bottles of various liquors right out front, and probably as many wines in the menu. Above the counter were about ten mini-chandeliers, twinkling in the dim lights above. The bigscreen television embedded in the wall between the bottle-display and the second row of fancy glass-ware on the right was showing off highlights from the Trophée de France, and just as Yuri was pointing out what he wanted to the barkeep on the menu, it started playing footage from the Exhibition Gala.
The tender paused suddenly as he was moving to grab the liqueur needed to make Yuri's drink, seeing The Ghost on the screen and glancing back at the two men on the other side of the counter. Being taken aback, he pointed from the display to Viktor and then back again, as though wordlessly trying to confirm they were the same person.
[Yes, that's us.] Viktor mused in French, again surprising the barkeep.
[You speak French! My apologies, I must've seemed rude just now...] He turned to gawk at Yuri though, [He's not the other skater...is he?]
Viktor glanced at the younger man, who was looking at both of them like he thought he was in trouble.
"...What I do?"
The Russian laughed and went behind him, then reached for his eyes and pushed up against his forehead to pull his hair back, "Nothing; you're adorable." He looked back at the bartender, who had a glimmer of recognition then, [You see?]
[He looks so different with his hair down.]
[He used to wear glasses, too. He looks really hot like this, right?]
"You guys are talking about me." Yuri grumbled, trying to blink where his partner still had his skin pulled taut.
"He's talking, I'm bragging." Viktor explained, letting him go again and ruffling his hair to put it back into its former messy affect, "He didn't recognize that you were my partner in the EX because your hair is down."
"Should I put it up again...?"
A colorfully layered drink was placed in front of him, and he offered his debit card in return.
"Well, you went out of your way to wash the gel out after the Gala, so do whatever is most comfortable."
[Anything for you, sir?]
Viktor turned from his husband to the barkeep and leaned over the menu on the counter in front of him, [The penultimate question...]
.
.
.
The remaining gaggle of Russians and their cohorts had made their way back to the darker stage room after finishing with the late-night dinner. Minako was scanning the room for her former pupil, but couldn't see him.
"They've been gone for a while." She commented.
"Mh...Yuri might've passed out somewhere." Mikhail answered, looking around as well. He laughed when he spotted Mila forcing Yurio to dance with her, much to the young skater's protests. Shaking his head, he reached into his inside coat pocket and pulled his phone out, "I'll message them to ask where they are."
It seemed Viktor had the same idea though, and just as the phone was clicked on and Mikhail was taking a sip from a champagne flute, the elder received a message from his nephew that made him spew the bubbly everywhere.
"Sheesh, what happened?" Minako gaped at him, reaching for and then offering a napkin from the nearby table.
Mikhail just offered his phone and let it speak for itself, wiping his face after he swapped the device for the offered napkins.
[Hey dad, make sure Yuri and I don't do anything especially stupid, ok? We're gonna drink.]
"Aww, you got upgraded!" The woman laughed, "He'll never say your name now!"
"I really thought I was close, too." He sighed, accepting his phone back, "Ah well."
A few minutes passed before either of the skaters was seen returning to the Banquet, but when they did, it was clear they were on a mission. The music in the room even seemed to change as they made their appearance. What was once a calm tempo for slow dancing, morphed into something a bit more energetic.
[I'm listening to 'Jane XØ - I Don't Wanna' and 'Ella Vos - Down in Flames' by MrSuicideSheep, so something along these lines.]
Mikhail spotted the pair in the doorway first, spotting them ahead where he looked past Minako's shoulder, "Uh oh..."
"Uh oh?" She echoed, turning to look, "Uh oh. Yuri looks completely toasted."
"Viktor does, too. They didn't waste any time did they?"
"Better make room. This ought to be good."
Yuri adjusted where Viktor's tie was tangled around his head, and the Russian next to him was pulling off his blazer and vest. Both of them went out to the middle of the room with their dress-shirts half unbuttoned, seeming to have some plan for how to completely take over the floor. Others were already starting to make way as the pair came through, already seeming to choreograph a whole new skating routine as they went. By the time they made it to center, Viktor was holding Yuri just above the ground with a hand wrapped around his front, the younger skater's back to his chest, posing much like in a Pairs lift as Viktor turned slowly in a circle.
The crowd clapped along to the beat of the music, many of them excited enough by the display to join in in their own ways. The dance floor came alive with energy.
Coaches and sponsors waited along the wall, watching as the skaters put their talents on display. It wasn't long before a few of them were getting pulled into the fray. Not even Yurio was spared, as Yuri came drunkenly sauntering out of the throng unexpectedly, and yanked the teen in. The music changed above them, and soon Minako was missing as well, leaving the elder Russian confused where he stood.
He spotted her in the thicket with his nephew, and smacked his forehead, "Does this count as 'especially stupid' I wonder?"
Off to the side, Yuri and Yurio were in a mess of something that looked like a hybrid of break-dancing and ballroom moves. It looked confusing, but at least the teen looked like he was starting to enjoy himself, even if only reluctantly.
Minako was even more flustered than she had been when Viktor caught her during the wedding party, since in both cases, his shirt had been half open and he loomed over her. This time it didn't end with just making sure she didn't end up on her butt on the ice though. He danced with her quite properly, and for the entire duration of the present song. When the switch came again and Viktor went back to find his husband, he traded her off to Chris, and she just about died of happiness. Yuri forced Yurio to stick around even as Viktor came back for another round.
When the music changed a few more times, even Mikhail wasn't safe from the mass of dancing, and Minako pulled him into the thick of it. He felt super awkward...dancing wasn't really his shtick.
It was close to 2am before the music was turned off and everyone was too tired to go on. The alcohol started wearing off again, too, at least for those who had imbibed. The 'infamous' trio had seemingly made drunken amends by then, and were in a triangular pile on the stage, completely worn out. Viktor was down on his back, arms over his head, his knees bent over the lip of the stage so his feet were at least on the ground still. By then, his shirt had been completely undone, and was barely hanging onto his arms. Yuri was face-down on his chest, feet dangling straight off the edge of the stage to the man's right. Between them, Yurio was barely clinging to the stage, left arm dangling off it where he had his head propped up on Viktor's thigh just above the knee, right leg propped up over Yuri's hip, the rest of him splayed out like a cat trying to take up as much space as humanly possible.
Minako had at least found a chair nearby, nursing a glass of champagne, having no idea how many she'd had by then. She was good and tipsy, but a lifetime of enjoying alcohol had made her tolerance for it rather robust, and she was still able to laugh at the whole situation.
"Well, they seem okay with each other again I guess." She mused, turning to where Mikhail had face-planted on a row of chairs right up against the wall, "Right, dad?" She chortled.
"It just sounds weird coming from you." He answered, lifting his head just enough to turn it and face her, "But you're probably right. They're turned themselves into quite the SkaterPile." He paused, uncurling one arm to reach up and touch his chin, "We should probably get them back to their hotel so they can sleep it off."
Enough people were still standing that it wasn't quite a clear shot to where the trio had wound up on the stage, but Mikhail pushed himself back up to his feet and started sleepily hobbling over, stumbling through the stragglers and onto the stage, half-crawling to just above where Viktor's head was resting.
"Oi."
The younger Russian didn't respond.
"Vik, get up, time to adult again." Mikhail said again, poking his nephew's forehead with a finger.
Viktor at least moved that time, blearily swinging one arm up over his forehead to get the poking to stop as he turned onto his side and grabbed to Yuri's head gently, like he'd done with Makkachin forever ago. Yurio hadn't seemed to notice where his 'pillow' had moved, pushing him even more precariously close to the edge of the stage.
Mikhail sat back, legs half-crossed as he looked down somewhat, feeling largely defeated. He could hear Minako trying not to laugh at him off to the side. Giving her a look like 'well you come try it then,' he turned back to the SkaterPile and shrugged, resigning to just watch over them until they roused on their own, or until everyone got kicked out, whichever came first.
A few minutes passed that way. The elder Russian leaned back on his hands and slouched somewhat, watching the other party-goers slowly starting to trickle out, the room becoming more and more empty as they went. He started idly humming to himself, not even really sure what tune it was until a voice popped up, quietly, ahead of him.
"...Ahh...I know that song..." It said.
"Hm?"
['The Parting Glass' as sung by Peter Hollens]
"...Of all the money...that e'er I had..." Viktor sang softly, "...I spent it in good company..."
"And all the harm, that e'er I've done." Mikhail added, surprised and yet not at the same time.
"Alas it was to none but me." They sang together, "And all I've done, for want of wit, to mem'ry now I can't recall. So fill to me the parting glass. Goodnight and joy...be with you all."
Even Chris chimed in from where he'd been previously unseen, hidden on the floor on the backside of the stage, joining the Russian choir as he rose to sit and slouched over the short lip of the platform, "So fill to me the parting glass, and drink of health what e'er befalls. Then gently rise and softly call, goodnight and joy be to you all."
Viktor pushed up onto his left elbow, using his right hand to gently move his husband's head as he pushed to sitting upright, turning him onto his side where he'd been on his stomach before. He sang the next line on his own, "Of all the comrades that e'er I had, are sorry for my going away."
His uncle got the next line solo as well, "And all the sweethearts that e'er I had, would wish me one more day to stay."
Yuri's eyes started to open as he heard the song, the two silver Russians getting the next line together again, "But since it falls into my lot, that I should rise and you should not."
Viktor alone again, "I'll gently rise and I'll softly call,"
The full trio-ensemble, "Goodnight and joy be to you all."
Even Yurio started to rouse, suddenly pushing off the edge of the stage and onto more stable ground as he realized how close to slipping off he was. One elbow was wedged between Viktor's knees as he turned, hearing the trio continue.
"Fill to me the parting glass, and drink of health what e'er befalls. Then gently rise and softly call, goodnight and joy be to you all."
Chris faded out, leaving Mikhail and Viktor in a last duet, "Fill to me the parting glass, and drink of health what e'er befalls. Then gently rise and softly call, goodnight and joy be to you all."
Viktor finished it out, "Goodnight and joy be to you all."