CHAPTER TWO HUNDRED FOUR
A mere few minutes passed before the moment seemed to come. The silver legend rounded the short end of the rink one last time, drew in one last breath, and reached for the top of the zipper to his track coat, pulling it down until it billowed opened around him. He slid along the ice gracefully, eventually coming up to where Yuri was still idling at rink-side. The jacket came off the Russian's shoulders and went over the younger skater's like a net, pulling him along rather suddenly.
Yuri yipped slightly as he felt the tug, but he found himself pulled right up against his partner's frame in an instant, and thankfully didn't slip as a result. He clung stiffly until he found his bearings, then snuck his arm through the sleeves, feeling where Viktor was slowing to a stop near the center of the rink. The ice stopped moving beneath them with the click of a toe-pick, and the shorter skater looked up the three inches to his husband's eyes, "You're ready?"
"I think so."
The over-long sleeves were pulled up so Yuri could fit his hands through properly, and set those hands on his husband's waist. He waited a moment, staring at the center of the man's chest, hazel eyes intently looking at the exposed skin where the dark-blue jacket parted just below man's sternum. His attention was caught by Viktor softly laughing though, and he lifted his head, "...What's so funny?"
"The way you're acting." The silver figure answered, "It's like you're more nervous than I am. This isn't even for a score...it's more like a dress rehearsal." He ruffled a hand through his partner's hair and settled his palm on one cheek, giving Yuri the 'tell me about yourself' look from his first day in Hasetsu, "Go start the music."
Unlike that first day though, when the Russian's fingers slid down his jaw to lift his chin, Yuri didn't just get red in the face and back up in a sudden hysterical panic...he closed his eyes and rose up onto his toe-picks, giving his partner a quick peck before turning off to do as asked.
Viktor watched him go, finally feeling some semblance of calm flowing through him that he hadn't felt since before the Grand Prix Series had even started. He reached down to play idly with the thin chains hanging off the front of his costume belt, looking up only when he heard Yuri calling for a ready check. He nodded and quickly took position, raising his arms up and putting one skate behind the other, the same way he'd done a few hours prior.
The symphony began, and the silver genius started to move, twisting around and picking up speed. His frame moved more loosely than before. The crippling sense of foreboding and dread was entirely gone as well. Most importantly...every corner of the arena was clear. Not one wisp of black, inky smoke rose from anywhere in sight.
Can you hear my heartbeat? Tired of feeling never enough.
Viktor slid forward, one hand over his ear and the other over the center of his chest before he twisted around with his arms out to the side. The opposite end of the rink came up quickly, and he skirted around it with ease, twisting through it with both eyes closed, knowing exactly where every inch of the ice was.
I close my eyes and tell myself,
He moved back into a mohawk turn, angling towards the center of the rink...
That my dreams will come true.
Kick-off with the toe-pick, vaulting from the left foot off an inside edge of the golden blade, spinning four times, and landing on the right.
There'll be no more darkness when you believe in yourself, you are unstoppable.
Arms were out to the side as the Russian twizzled and spun, core rotating over hips as skates carved tracks in the ice.
Where your destiny lies, dancing on the blades,
Viktor hopped into a half-loop, and on the landing, bent down to one knee and thrust his right hand out as he slid forward on the ice. Slate eyes filled with joy to see Yuri reaching back again, and the Russian quickly turned his hand back around, closing his fingers to grab the feeling right out of the air, and pressed it against his chest as though...
...You set my heart on fire!
He kept his hand where it was, thrusting the other around as he threw himself into a butterfly kick, landed, and kept sliding, one leg out behind him. Serpentine step sequence; footwork was expressive and intense, arms up and loose.
Don't stop us now, the moment of truth,
We were, born to make History!
We'll make it happen, we'll turn it around,
Yes, we were born to make History!
He slid around the far end of the rink, moving back towards center and glancing over his shoulder as he slid in a line, pushing into a 3-turn. Right leg went out behind him, he tilted onto his left outside edge, kicked off the toe-pick, spun four times with both arms in the air, and landed the Tano Lutz with ease...immediately kicking off into a Tano triple Loop for the required combination jump.
Born to make History!
The silver Russian twisted back to facing forward, twizzling with an arm slowly rising up at the same time.
Bo-bo-born to make History!
Can you hear my heartbeat? I've got a feeling it's never too late.
He kicked a leg out and thrust himself into a back-Camel spin, lower hand settled over the center of his chest as the other reached slightly above himself. He leaned for a lay-back variant, then twisted over slightly for the sideways version.
I close my eyes and tell myself,
Minor hop to change feet, rotating swiftly to pick up more speed. He arched himself and grabbed the blade of his up-turned skate, then grabbed just below the knee, twisting himself into a catch-foot variant.
That my dreams will come true.
He kicked out of the spin and moved away in reverse, rotating his hips and stepping skate over skate as he moved along the long end of the rink.
There'll be no more darkness when you believe in...
The silver legend stepped in wide arcs across the ice, dropping his back down to lean over into a layback Ina Bauer.
... yourself, you are unstoppable.
He snapped his arms out and immediately pushed into a double-twizzle, falling into an outside spread-Eagle as he came along the next short-side of the arena.
Where your destiny lies, dancing on the blades,
Like the showman he was, and with the newfound energy of all his stress leaving him, the Russian dared the quad Axel instead of the triple.
You set my heart on fire!
Don't stop us now, the moment of truth,
The Russian turned easily out of the jump, feeling that 'good' kind of hurt in his legs so he knew he'd landed it properly. The air flew past him, hair whipping as he glided backward along the rink wall.
We were born to make History!
We'll make it happen, we'll turn it around!
Yes, we were born to make History!
Viktor slid into a second step-sequence, blades clicking onto the ice with the beat of the music. His long frame flowed like water, kicking a leg out or extending his arms to further the dance.
Don't stop us now, the moment of truth,
We were born to make History!
We'll make it happen, we'll turn it around!
Yes, we were born to make History!
The final part of the Short Program was finally coming up, as well as his final required move. He slid across the frosty ground and pushed into a flying forward-entry camel-spin with his hands behind his back this time.
We were born to make History!
He reached back and grabbed his blade again for a donut-spin. When he let it go, he crossed that ankle over the other and started raising his arms up above his head, speeding up considerably as he went for the scratch spin.
We were born to make History!
Slowing down only enough to tilt his free leg out again, the Russian descended into the sit-spin formation for the combo, extending the leg out in front of himself for the shoot-the-duck variant, grabbing his calf to hold it out.
Yes, we were born to make History!
The beat of the song was rising, and so did the skater, pushing back to his feet into the final part of the spin, grabbing his blade up behind his head for the haircutter variant, one arm towards the ceiling.
Just as the music finally cut out, Viktor stepped his toe-pick down and stopped, bringing his arms down around himself and then extending them sharply out to the sides.
The program was over. He finished it, and he remembered every second. His lungs were still on fire like after the previous attempt, but he knew what he'd done to get them that way. Sweat rolled down the side of his face, and strands of silver hair clung to his skin as he heaved. All he could do was focus on his partner clapping far ahead of him, and the Russian smiled through his winded breaths.
.
.
.
Viktor hadn't made it long in the car as they went back to the hotel. He started with just his head leaning against the cushion behind him, but he slowly slid off of it, until he was a heap leaning against the skater next to him. Yuri tried to finagle a way to get the man to lie on his side more straight-like than he had been, but the Russian seemed content to be bent over like the loop of a pretzel, half-hanging by the seatbelt, shoulder against his partner's leg as his head hung limp. Yuri just held him where he was, wrapping one arm under the man's head and neck to rest it against the bend of his elbow, and give it some semblance of support.
The ride was about 30 minutes back, and it was nearly 10:30 when they arrived. It was a mostly silent trek, giving the exhausted Russian a chance for quiet before making him get up again. When Yuri finally roused him though, the hazy skater practically sleep-walked inside.
Their pack-mule followed in disgruntled silence, back still slightly sore but no worse for wear. He quietly made it evident that he was going to bring the skaters' gear in himself no matter what. The elevator ride up was a welcome reprieve from the brief march, and the elder Russian leaned against the inside walls, a carry-bag on each shoulder, the broken rolling suitcase held by the hooked fingers of his left hand, and the final bag under the opposite arm.
By the time they'd all finally made it to the athletes' room, Viktor looked ready to pass out again, lightly banging his head against the door in a sleepy haze as he'd tried to slide the key-card in to unlock it. Yuri slid in under him to push him back up to standing, and finished the task of opening the door himself, holding the panel open as Viktor leaned heavily against his back.
Mikhail handed the bags off to Minako one at a time, and she slipped into the room to set them at the foot of the bed. That done, she quietly stepped back out again, whispering her goodnights before watching the pair go in themselves. The older silver Russian caught a quick glance from Yuri, but sighed to himself when the door clicked and no words had been spoken.
"They're never going to forgive me." The tired old man whispered, trying not to be heard through the doors, "They're just going to quietly tolerate me, and give me the cold shoulder forever. It's just like Viktor said it would be back at Worlds. I really fucked up."
"Maybe only until the end of NHK." Minako offered, reaching out her hand so he'd at least know someone didn't dislike him, "You only have to wait for Viktor to ease off anyway. As soon as Viktor lets up, Yuri will follow."
"It still hurts." The elder whined, "I mean, I get why he's doing it, but Yuri was the one to stick his neck out to give me a chance in the first place, talking to me before Viktor even knew about it. To have him being all dubious of me now is really...crappy. It didn't even really start until the day after we got here. It's like something changed overnight."
They came back around the corner to the elevators, hit the button, and waited.
Mikhail fidgeted though, "Maybe encouraging Viktor to tell Yuri about the past worked against me."
"Yuri came to his own conclusions about you a long time ago. He knows who you are right now, so anything Viktor might've said about the past would just inform the way in which you became your current self." Minako pointed out, "And I doubt that Viktor said anything with the intent of turning Yuri against you anyway. I don't think he'd do that."
He still sighed in dismay.
"Anyway though..." Minako went on, refusing to linger on the topic, "It's late, but I'm not ready to turn in yet. Let's go find some drinks. I've barely gotten a taste of that fabled Rozovsky Charm and I need a pick-me-up to cheer-me-up."
"...But..."
"Tut." She shushed him, one finger over his mouth in a heartbeat.
Grey-green eyes blinked in confusion, then in thorough perplexity as both of the woman's hands went up to the hat sitting lightly on this head...and twisted it around where it was, sliding all his hair around with it until both of his eyes were covered. He felt those hands come back down again, touching the side of his neck...but he brought his own hands up and took her wrists in them gently before she could do anything else, "...If he doesn't forgive me, I'll have to leave. I don't want to get your hopes up." He said grimly, "Sticking around with me would just cause a rift between you and th-"
"I think you should let me decide what I want to do." The ballerina interrupted, "I'm a big girl and I make my own choices."
The nerves still rose up in the man's gut, but he didn't feel much like arguing. The worry wouldn't go away until his nephew was done tormenting him. The Russian let go of those pale arms and raised his hands up to where his hat lay lopsided on his head, pulling it down to straighten out his hair again and look at the ballerina properly. He drew in a breath, squishing up the hat in his hands, wringing it around like a wet wash-cloth, and let the breath out quickly, "...I appreciate what you're doing..."
The elevator arrived, the slight ding sound echoing in the empty waiting hall.
"...What do you mean?"
Doors opened soon after, revealing the empty chamber, and the two stepped in.
"...If this had happened earlier on, I don't know that I would've had the guts to try and wait it out." Mikhail explained anxiously, "I'm just a coward, always running from my problems, never wanting to stick around and sort them out. But you..." His fingers wrapped tighter around where he still clenched down on the hat in one hand, "...You make me want to stay and see it through."
"And that's why Viktor's going to forgive you." Minako said, leaning casually against the inner walls of the small room, "You and him are a lot alike, you know."
He turned his head slightly to look at her past his silver bangs.
"You're both impulsive, and do things without much forethought. You get excitable when an idea crosses your mind, and you're both too stubborn to let pesky things like other people push you off it." She said, sliding indiscreetly closer, "But you also care a lot, maybe too much sometimes. You said you meant well by this whole crazy thing, and I believe you, and you clearly feel bad for how it hasn't so far. So, like any storm, just wait it out, and hope for a clearer sky tomorrow." She managed to sneak an arm behind his back, turning to rest the side of her chin against the edge of the taller man's shoulder, "Besides..."
The woman's tone suddenly shifted, and Mikhail felt rather small in a big hurry, seeing her looming over him with a comically dark look on her face, her hand holding to his black coat like she was preventing him from running.
"...Up until this weekend, you spent every day since the Viktuuri wedding party pretending like nothing happened. Don't think you're just going to get to leave, Mikhail Rozovsky."
"...Y-Yes ma'am...!" He squeaked, ears going red, "...Or would it be 'No ma'am?'" The look on her face made the Russian uneasy, "...W-Whatever you want, ma'am!"
Minako just smiled sweetly.
.
Yuri sat up in bed, a damp towel around his shoulders making his t-shirt a bit wet. His hair was a porcupine's nest of ruffle-dried spikes, and he lifted the fleece to dry off the side of his face, phone in his other hand. Instagram was awash with new content after the day's programs, and inevitably, the worried criticisms of fans and sports journalists alike came scrolling onto his screen.
[HAS THE AGE OF NIKIFOROV COME TO AN END?] One headline read, with the subtitle, 'Viktor takes home his lowest SP score in nearly a decade. Is this the Death Knell of our generation's greatest skater?'
Photos from the Short Program followed, with a few embedded videos detailing the analysis of the afternoon's event. It even posted footage of Yuri's own frantic interview after the fact. There were a few pictures of Viktor's congratulations to Phichit, but the subtext that the Russian was ceding victory to the Thai skater made Yuri's gut churn, even though he was rooting for them both. The more he read and saw, the further down he sank against the pillows and headboard, until his knees were higher up than his eyes, and he was looking up at his phone instead of down.
The sound of the shower was cut off, and the hazy silver skater stepped out a short while later, one towel flopped over his head and another barely clinging to his hips. His feet shuffled across the floor slowly, and he eventually made it over to his own side of the bed, but when he pulled the covers back and turned around to sit, he just stayed there, looking towards the window at the far end of the room.
Yuri watched him anxiously, hearing the man suck in a breath, but was perplexed to find the man rolling down onto his back. When Viktor had stopped moving, he had his head planted on his partner's stomach where he'd been scrunched up against the head of the bed, but had a smile on his face.
"I'm glad I got to skate the do-over." He said in his sleepy haze, "Thanks for convincing those folks at the rink to stay open for me."
The younger figure blinked at him, but then pushed under the blankets to sit up a bit straighter, and brought his free hand up to run his fingers through that wet platinum hair, "I don't know that I really did much. All I really told them was that you wanted to skate for a little while, and asked that they keep the lights on for another hour. It probably just looked like a lot more than it was because I was being extra-special polite."
"Well, even so..." Viktor shrugged, "You managed, and I got to perform 'History Maker' the way I meant to earlier today. I'll do 'Evoke' tomorrow the same way, since my target audience will be watching...and then...I'll debut my new Free Skate at the Exhibition."
Yuri pushed up quickly when he heard it, his phone forgotten in the sheets, "Y-You've already figured it out!? But when will you even be able to practice it!? What about the outfit...or the music!?"
The Russian just smiled, even while his head was squished between his partner's abdomen and legs. Yuri lowered his knees after that and gave the man room again, "Tomorrow's a long day. If I already have my show in mind now, then we can spend all the time we want, outside the Free Program, to get things ready. I intend to go back to that same rink again after FS practice in the morning. I'll need you to come, too, obviously."
"...Well, I was going to go anyway...but...why do you need me, exactly?"
Viktor rolled onto his side, curling one arm under a nearby pillow as the other reached up to push some of those black spikes from the top of his partner's eyes, "The Exhibition version of my new show will include a duet at the end. You'll need to practice with me." He sealed the deal with a wink, "There's going to be a side-by-side quad Flip, a vertical spin-throw, and a Death Spiral. Are you up for it?"
The younger skater could feel the excitement growing in him, and he nodded emphatically, the 'news' post online entirely forgotten, "Absolutely!"
Both of those pale hands came together in a happy clap, "Perfecto~!" Viktor twisted and pushed back up to sitting at the edge of the bed, and ruffled the towel over his head one more time before tossing it over the back of a nearby chair. The towel around his waist soon joined it, and he clicked the nearby light off as he pulled the blankets over his naked, squeaky-clean frame.
The room plunged half into darkness after that, with only the light on Yuri's side still on. Hazel eyes followed the Russian until he seemed to have settled in, waiting for him to join in. The younger skater nodded, found his phone again to plug it into the charger next to where Viktor's already was, and reached for the light switch near to them. With the room completely dark, the younger man pulled his t-shirt off and slid in under the covers to join his husband, scooting closer under the blankets until he could feel his shoulder pressing against the man's chest. One arm went immediately under him, wedging between his back and the blankets, while the other settled on the lower part of his ribs, and the Russian set his head down, pressing his forehead to damp black hair.
Yuri waited a moment, half expecting Viktor's hands to start wandering, but nothing happened.
"You're just...going to sleep...?" He asked, a bit surprised, "We didn't get to go out for that dinner like I suggested, but I thought, at least...since we were alone tonight..."
"...I know..." The silver genius said quietly, feeling his partner's head turning in front of him, "I don't think I can manage it right now though." He pulled his arm back under the younger skater's back, and propped himself up onto that elbow, trying to see the man's face in the dark, gently brushing his thumb against Yuri's cheek as he came into lightless focus, "I'm in a good place right now, I promise...but under all the fun I had earlier, at the back of my mind, I'm still stoking those fires for tomorrow. The next time we make love...I want it to be when all the anger is gone. I just need you to wait for me a little while longer...so I can get all my head-space back, and focus on the things that really matter."
Yuri's brow was furrowed a bit, but he nodded in understanding, bringing his right hand up where Viktor's was still set against his cheek, "I'll wait as long as it takes. I'm not going anywhere."
Viktor huffed a quiet smile, and leaned down the few inches to kiss his partner, nosing his lip a little after he pulled back again, "I love you more than I'll ever be able to say. You truly are the one and only light in my life."
"The stars in my sky."
"The grass under my feet."
"The ice under my blades."
"Wow~!" The Russian sighed contentedly as he laid back down, wedging his arm back into place and pulling the man against his chest tightly, "I don't know how to top that. Ice under blades...that's practically the best thing ever."
Yuri settled his head down as well and smiled to himself, "I love you, too."