CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED FIFTY SIX

It was less 'organized chaos' than it was 'a giant heap of blankets, pillows, and limbs.' Sunlight was cascading through the big part in the curtains, reflecting off the solid-wood headboard with its shiny black varnish, making the pile look like a glowing hill. Within the jumble of sheets and comforters, two figures laid intertwined, and neither had any idea it was almost 1pm already.

A light-blue phone with poodle icons on it was at 0% power, forgotten in a jacket that had been left hanging on the bathroom doorknob.

Another phone, one half colored Aria-wine, the other half Aria-blue, was in an assortment of clothes that had been left on the floor near the door; by then, it was also at 0%.

Under the feather-down lump, one figure stirred. He was behind the other, spooned against the man's back, one arm on either side of his neck and clinging to him as well as he could in his sleep. The form in front used the arm under his head like a pillow, hair tousled over it loosely, no longer damp from the bath the night before, but still unwashed all the same.

Hazel eyes blinked open a little, seeing the silver hair first, then his own shoulder. They opened a little further, shielded from the bright light of the outside by the dome overtop of them. Closing once again though, he nestled closer, wrapping his arms a little tighter before falling back asleep...at least for another 30 seconds...then those eyes opened again, and this time, all the way.

Yuri blinked and glanced around as well as he could, not entirely sure where one sheet began and another ended. There were pillows everywhere, and it was warm all around, but his left foot was considerably colder than his right. He lifted it up a foot or two, only to be greeted by the near-blinding glow of the room. The foot went down again immediately, and the skater realized he must've had that leg sticking out over the base-board, giving him a direct line of sight to the sun right outside.

He pulled his left arm back, pressing his forehead to his partner's shoulder as he pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers, and then braced himself. That same hand moved towards the opposite side of the bed, peeking out from under the covers where cool air greeted skin, and slowly pulled the heap back. Yuri pushed the blanket down, uncovering the upper part of himself, but at the same time, building something of a wall that protected his eyes from the light outside. He kept pushing it until his husband's head was uncovered as well, and then went right back to snoozing against his back, this time burying his face to the right instead, effectively hiding his face from the room. He could still smell the faint aroma of cigarettes, liquor, and cologne from the night before in the Russian's matted hair.

"...Mmhhh..." That very Russian grumbled, pulling his own left arm up to drape it over his eyes, wanting to twist away from the dim glow over the edge of the blanket-dam, but realizing he couldn't go too far. One slate-blue eye opened at a time, turning towards the roadblock behind him, "...Oh...hey... You awake?" He asked blearily.

Yuri opened one eye to see him, but then closed again, "...Sort of..."

"When...did you get back?" The older figure wondered quietly, managing to turn onto his back, bringing his hand up to gently touch it to his partner's shoulder where that arm was now crossing over his upper chest, "When did I get back...?"

Brown eyes blinked a little wider to hear the words, "...Huh?"

"Wow~..." Viktor winced, "I turned over and my head started blazing...!"

Wordlessly, Yuri pointed towards the table. He remembered having gotten up after Viktor had initially fallen asleep, setting out a glass of water and two migraine tablets, and covering the glass with a thin cardboard coaster to keep anything from landing in it while they slept. He knew the man would need it come morning...afternoon...time.

The Russian rose at the waist like a vampire from a classic horror movie, coming loose from where Yuri's arm had been over him, and hearing it flop to the sheet where he'd once been. His motions had rustled the blanket-wall though and sunlight came straight at them both. Viktor hadn't seemed to notice though, unlike the Nosferatu who would have burst into flames for it, scooting forward until he could reach for the glass of water. The room was cool and gave him goosebumps, and he was all-too-eager to return to the warmth of the moment before.

The younger figure turned to flop down to his back again, closing his eyes and ruffling his hair a little as the Russian drained half the glass in one breath. He peeked one eye open again as he felt the blankets shift under him, seeing Viktor moving down slowly to set his head down onto his chest.

"...I must've been drinking a lot..." The man's hazy voice said simply, "I didn't do anything stupid, did I?"

...He doesn't remember anything. Yuri thought to himself, folding his right arm over to set it gently on his partner's head, playing idly with his hair, "I was only there at the end."

"I remember calling Uncle Mimi...and then going to get Minako-sensei...and going to the rooftop bar, but...it's hazy after that!" Viktor laughed at his own expense, "I wonder if my drink was spiked?"

"You had 7 drinks." Yuri informed him quietly, turning again to move his free arm over his partner's head and pulled him closer against himself, "Hard ones."

"Oh~!" The Russian found it all rather funny, "That would probably do it. The last time I drank even half that much was when Yurio first came to Hasetsu!"

Yuri huffed a laugh against the top of the man's head and closed his eyes again, moving one leg to casually hoist a knee over his partner's waist, "I remember. You showed up at the Ice Castle just as he was showing me how to land a quad Salchow. You looked all disheveled."

"It was the only rational way I could deal with the fact that he'd showed up at all." Viktor explained hazily, "I had hoped to get a bit more time alone with you before he found out where I was. Even without forgetting my promise, I suspected he'd pop up eventually anyway."

"Really?"

"Mh." The Russian confirmed, twisting around a little to set his chin on Yuri's chest where his ear had just been, looking on his partner fondly in his hung-over haze, "I hadn't known yet about how he found you in the bathroom, but he had shown a bit of hostility to the idea of you long before I left St. Petersburg. I was worried he would intimidate you...but you actually handled it all really well."

For the moment, Yuri found it to be a comfort that his husband was in such a decent mood despite his migraine. He supposed the man would find out sooner or later about his roof-top extravaganza anyway, so the longer it could be put off, the better. Not knowing how the man would react to learning about what he'd done was enough of a worry in itself.

Viktor normally doesn't express his feelings so blatantly. He started thinking, recalling the hazy words that had been spoken to him in the tub, and from the inner ledge of the 58th floor, He blamed himself enough for my Short Program that he actually thought I might leave him over it. I wonder if I don't give him enough attention...? I should do something nice for him before we go back to the arena.

"...Whew, I got really dizzy suddenly..." Viktor huffed another uneasy laugh, "Also I think I got hit by a truck... Is that where you found me? Was I in the street?"

"Huh? No, I got you from the Ritz-Carlton." Yuri quirked a brow, "You were totally naked when I got there though. You tend to have that habit when you start to get buzzed."

"Oh nooooo!" The Russian lamented comically, rolling off his husband's chest to lie on his own back again, bringing his arm up to his forehead dramatically, "Poor Minako-sensei! She probably got an eye-full! I hope she didn't mind..."

The younger figure finally found some humor in the whole thing, "I doubt it. She always found you easy to look at." Yuri rolled over, flopping himself over his husband's frame the same way Viktor had done a moment before, and reached up his right hand to brush his fingers through the man's silver-grey bangs a little, "I tried to get you to shower last night but you got a bit...excitable. Care to try again? I haven't gotten to wash your hair for you in a while."

"Ah jeeze...we made out last night, too? I don't remember! How sad!" Viktor lamented again, pushing himself up onto one elbow so as to see his partner more easily. He brought up his free hand and stroked Yuri's cheek, "You have to tell me everything that happened. Maybe I can piece it together."

"Well..." Yuri started anxiously, worried that revealing anything about the previous night's events would spark that very memory to return. He drew in a breath and pushed himself up to sitting, resting one hand on his husband's athletic, solid core, "How about we shower and go eat something first? You'll probably enjoy the story better when you don't feel like you have an ice-pick being driven between your eyes."

"Mmmmhm...probably..." Viktor agreed, reaching his hand up to press it against his face and forehead again as he stretched the rest of himself. When he flopped back to normal, he stared up at the ceiling wordlessly...and pulled his hand back away from his eyes, looking at where unexpected tears had made his skin wet.

"What is it?" Yuri wondered, looking back as he was about to get up from the edge of the bed, seeing where Viktor was staring at his fingers, "You okay?"

Another tear fell from the sides of each eye after that, and the Russian just continued staring upward, eventually letting his hand fall slowly to his chest, "...Why do I feel so sad all of a sudden?"

.

.

.

Yuri knew there was only one sure-fire way to get his husband's mind off whatever had bubbled out of his subconscious, and that was skating. He packed up his MacBook Air and a USB plug to charge his phone, forced the Russian to leave his own phone behind to charge in the hotel room, and dragged him out into the world. Food was the first order of business, but once that was procured, finding the closest skating rink became top priority.

They found themselves in the All Star Skating Club at the Mercedes-Benz Arena, one of the nicest rinks available in the city...and home to one of the better known figure skating clubs. There was even a big logo within the ice featuring a female skater doing a one-hand-blade-grab Biellmann Spin. The rink seemed to be like it was built inside a pit within the arena, the walls easily rising up 15ft all around, leading to an observation deck with a series of mall-like kiosks further in. The walls of the rink were tile, blue on the bottom and white towards the top, and scattered throughout were massive guitar-pick-shaped light-panels, which glowed cerulean, as though windows to a swimming pool or fish-tank. Three huge gunmetal pillars lined each of the short ends of the rink, and on the far left wall, overlooking the ice...a floor-to-balcony advertisement for the Cup of China.

Yuri had his skates on first, and stood at the rink wall from the locker-room side to see how crowded the place was. It was around the middle of the day by then, and it wasn't as crowded as it probably could be...but there were still a sizable number of locals on the ice.

Viktor finally came up from behind, leaning against Yuri's back lazily, "Too many people for an official practice..."

"Eh, I didn't think I'd get to have one anyway after missing the real one this morning." He answered, "It'll be fine though. We went through everything so much in Paris that I think I should do alright."

"Mh." The Russian nodded, looking up to see the big ISU poster and realizing that it had photos of all the events big-name skaters on it. He wondered if Yuri had noticed it yet, but supposed he'd find out soon enough.

Yuri had already pulled off his glasses and put them with his backpack in a small locker. Blade-guards followed soon after, and skates were set onto the ice, scratching across the frosty surface. They lazily slid around with all the other skaters, holding each other's hands quietly between them as they made the circuit. Yuri had placed himself closer to the rink wall though, so he was never really looking towards the big poster when they passed it.

By the third go around, Viktor had to go out of his way to stop moving forward, and actively pointed up at the massive advert, "Are you avoiding looking at that thing for a reason or...?"

"Huh?" The younger figure turned to glance at the poster, but then turned back, "...Oh, yeah, a little. My big fat head is right in front and I don't want anyone to recognize me."

"Why?"

Yuri gave him a look, "People will probably point and laugh at me because of my SP. I'd rather not hear it before going into my Free Program."

"How sad." Viktor sighed, "You sound like you think the fans are all out to get you."

"It only takes one." The younger figure pointed out, wanting to move off, but finding himself having to drag Viktor for his lack of moving on his own, "...Now you're being stubborn."

"You're getting stuck in your own head again." Viktor pointed out, "People here recognize you whether you look at the advert or not. Haven't you seen them looking?"

"You sure they're looking at me rather than you?" Yuri retorted, "It's just like on the train."

The Russian quirked a brow at him, looking around the rink, and all the other people who were skating past them. He pulled his hand back, idly tapping his lip with a finger...and then backed up and away from his partner. Yuri watched him go nervously, seeing him weave through the oncoming skaters as he backed up against the rink wall...and waited.

"...What's the point of this...?" Yuri wondered.

"Watch."

Dozens of skaters made the circuit between them, a few of them initially looking at the silver-haired Russian leaning on the wall, but then immediately turning to see Yuri as they passed by. One or two had even stopped to gawk between him and the big advert poster, blinking at him and then quickly skating way again, making Yuri wonder what they were thinking. No one said anything, but the longer Yuri stood there watching, the more obvious it became what was going on.

I may blend in really well...but the second they see Viktor, they realize I'm probably here, too... He thought quietly, eyes going back to his husband, But what's the point of this...?

"You see?" Viktor wondered, pushing off from the wall; other skaters moved to avoid him, like fish avoiding a shark. It felt eerily like Incheon Airport all over again, "You're the important one here. This is your event. This is your region. Even though we're in China, these people look to skaters like you and Phichit to represent them as fellow East Asians, and most of the people skating here today are probably watching the Cup of China, too." He suddenly extended an arm, pointing towards the big flat-panel television mounted to the wall just above the locker area, "I bet they'll be watching from here once the day's events start. It's Ladies up first, then Pairs...then you."

Pale white hands went around the younger skater's waist, and Yuri could feel himself being pushed further towards the center of the rink. When Viktor let him go, he slid a few more inches and came to a stop, and brown eyes rose in confusion, "What's all this...?"

"Skate for them."

"...But there's so many people on the ice, I won't have room."

Viktor cocked his head, his hair shifting a little as he smiled mischievously, looking much like the moment when he'd once said he wouldn't kiss a medal unless it was gold, "I can change that."

"No, Viktor, no, don-"

Two fingers went up to the Russian's lips...and he whistled as loud as Yuri had ever heard a whistle before.

Yuri felt like he was about to have a coronary, as it seemed like the overwhelming majority of the other skaters piqued their heads at the sound of the shrill sound; everyone at least looked, even if only half of them slowed the speed of their own skating.

Viktor whistled one more time, this time doing so as he was starting to skate circles around his partner. More and more people were starting to slow down, many even stopping to see what was going on. Yuri felt the butterflies in his stomach starting to rise up again, and he looked around in a nervous panic.

What are you doing!? Why are you making everyone look!?

"It seems to me like a lot of folks here know who this is." The Russian said, loudly, pointing straight at the younger skater, "Who knows his name?"

"YURI!" Someone yelled out. Another called out the same thing from the other side of the rink. Soon, a third was doing so as well, then a dozen or more...then half the arena was shouting his name. Before long, the random shouts melded into a unified chant, "YURI! YURI! YURI!"

"SKATE FOR US!"

"You skipped practice this morning!"

"You should do your Free Skate!"

The skater had his hands up over his mouth by then, perplexed and astounded by the feedback. He barely noticed as Viktor came skating up next to him again and fished his phone out of his back pocket.

"Unlock it. I'll find a way to connect it to some speakers in here."

"V-Viktor..."