CHAPTER TWO HUNDRED SIXTY EIGHT

The water to the shower was already running when Yuri started rummaging around the room to find his friend's gear. He'd thrown on a pair of shorts at least while waiting his turn under the water, but was finding it hard to sort through Phichit's things and locate just the specifics of the Short Program, so he paused, sat on the floor where he'd been crouched on one knee, and sighed. Hands went down to the carpet as he leaned back and looked up at the ceiling, "...Even if I find his costume, I'll probably forget something he'll need that isn't super obvious."

The bathroom door, ajar already, opened wide as the silver Russian stepped out, one towel slung over his wet silver hair, and another clinging precariously to his hips, "Let's just bring him everything then."

Yuri glanced back over his shoulder, "Yeah." He leaned forward and pushed himself back up to his feet, only to keep raising his arms up as he stood, until they were high above his head in a stretch. His back arched as his thin frame tightened up, but just as the skater was about to recoil and go limp again to turn around, he felt steam-warmed hands come around his sides. His arms came down abruptly, but that only opened up his neck and shoulder, and a pair of soft lips went there next, followed by a damp chest against his back. Yuri couldn't help but smile as he leaned back into the Russian's warm and soggy embrace, finding the man's hands where they'd roamed up to lay flat against the front of his thin frame, "It's a shame we have to get dressed again so soon."

"Well, at the very least, if you decide to skate naked, I won't stop you." Viktor hummed against his husband's skin, kissing that slender neck before maneuvering the younger figure around to put him on a path to the shower. For good measure, he gave that skaterbum a gentle pat as his partner went, "Go get cleaned up. I'll sort things out here."

Huffing a quiet laugh as his cheeks went pink, Yuri nodded, but pulled that pale, slender right hand up to kiss the ring thereupon before moving off, "Yes, dear."

He was already around the corner when Viktor's stunned eyes came up in a confused 'what did you just call me?' kind of look, and the Russian blinked a few times before shaking it out. Not that Yuri saw it, but the silver legend's cheeks went a bit pink as well.

The water was still running when the younger skater put the door to behind himself, shimmied out of the one article of clothing he'd put on, and stuck one leg over the edge of the tub. The glass was fogged-up to nearly white, but a few smudges caught Yuri's attention just before he vanished behind the shower curtain, and when he turned his head to look, he spotted something of a finger-painting-like image drawn into the misted mirror.

A cartoony kissy-face image of the Russian legend himself, with a big heart next to it, and both of their names (at least he assumed as such) written within in Cyrillic.

Yuri's face went red all over again, but he just shook his head and smiled as he finally pushed past the curtain.

Sometimes I can't believe I'm actually married to that man.

With the last of Phichit's things stacked up near the door, Viktor went about the task of sorting out his own things, setting the garment bag with his Short Program outfit onto the bed, followed by his partner's, and then the black, red, and white Team Russia tracksuit. He ruffled the towel on his head to dry it as much as he could before discarding it, and went about the arduous task of actually putting clothes on again.

Hot water cascaded down the younger skater's pale frame, taking the stress of the morning and early afternoon with it. Yuri held his eyes lightly closed as he just let the hot feeling rush and flow over his skin, fingers clasped loosely behind his neck as he dipped his head forward to let his hair get drenched as well. When he opened them again, he could see a faint red tint in the run-off as it trailed down his leg towards the drain. The slight movement of his head put the cut right in the path of a water-jet, and he winced when he felt the sudden sting of it being hit directly. Standing fully upright again, he felt at the tender spot with a finger, the staples in his hair more obvious than ever before, and he sighed, leaning a shoulder against the cold tile.

I hate that I feel normal right now. The slightest mistake reminds me of how everything went to crap in such a big hurry. ...I can't let myself get overconfident when I'm on the ice.

He reached for the small bottle of shampoo sitting on the ledge of the tub, and squeezed a bit of the clear-green liquid into the palm of one hand.

I have to trust Viktor's perspective...he's not reducing the difficulty of my program for selfish reasons. I think I should be more worried he'll reduce the difficulty of his own shows...

.

"I told you at the Grand Prix Final that even I was worried about making a full comeback. What I just did at Worlds was probably the apex of my career, flawed as it was. I'll perform next season, but...I'm thinking of limiting the quads in my programs to just three..."

"What!?" Yuri was incredulous, "You...why!? You literally just did the world's first quad Axel and set a new world record score for the Short Program, and now you're backing off!?"

"I fell doing my own signature move." Viktor pointed out, "Doing the quad Axel wasn't the only reason why I was tired, and I can't let you keep making excuses for my poor performance. The coat, the Axel, not practicing enough beforehand...those were all stupid, sure, but I'm 28, Yuri. I'll be 29 after the next Final. A skater with any sense would never have agreed to come back after taking off when I did. 'Winter's Wish' was supposed to be my last, and I knew that even before coming here to coach you."

.

He pushed himself beyond the limits of a normal human when he did his last Free Skate, Yuri thought, rinsing the froth off his head and watching quietly as the last remnants of that red tint finally washed away, He'd be well within reason to scale things way back. Would he do that now though? At the Final? He hasn't even made any kind of official statement yet that he's not doing 'Evoke' anymore. I wonder if he'll say something before tomorrow, or if he'll leave it as a surprise for the aud-... He shook his head and made a face, Who am I kidding? Of course he'll leave it as a surprise. That's his shtick. The question is how many quads he'll do. I never got to see him practice the competition-version of that show while we were back at home, so I have no idea what he has in mind...

By the time he stepped out, clad again only in his black boxer-briefs, the aforementioned Russian had practically set-up a small salon on the edge of the bed. Yuri reached quickly for the practice pants and team jacket that were hanging in the closet before stepping further into the room.

Viktor was all dressed up in his track suit and was hair-spraying his bangs into show-form, and glanced up when he saw the shadow out the corner of his eye. He barely had half a second to react before Yuri had leaned down in front of him and had him locked in a light kiss. Taking it in stride though, the Russian just closed his eyes and savored it before the young figure pulled back and took his place on the corner of the bed.

"Nice fog-doodle, Mr. Nikiforov."

"Why thank you, Mr. Nikiforov." Viktor mused, bowing as well as he could, and rising up to normal again, "Moë solnyško."

"I have no idea what that means but I'll assume it's good." Yuri smiled nervously, reaching back towards the garment bag with his first costume in it, and pulling the shimmery silver pants out.

The Russian just smiled and watched, but then looked a bit forlorn, leaning aside to rest his chin in his palm, elbow on his knee where it was crossed beneath himself, "You sure you don't want to reconsider skating naked?"

"I don't think they'd let me even if I was crazy enough to try." The younger figure pointed out sarcastically, pulling one leg on at a time before standing up briefly to get them all the way up, then sitting again to fasten them, "Besides..." He reached back for the black turtleneck and tiger-striped jacket, one arm going into the sleeves of the former at a time, then going over his head, "If I don't get dressed, how will you undress me again later?"

Blue eyes blinked, and Viktor was caught in a paradox, smiling despite the glazed-over look on his face. He chuckled anyway though and sat a bit straighter as his husband started pulling the longer sleeves of the costume-jacket on, "Hm...you and your logic."

"The promise of getting naked is sometimes more enticing than being naked, right?"

"Stop making sense."

Yuri grinned sweetly, reaching for his practice pants and pulling them on over his legs to protect the light-colored outfit, "Would you ever skate naked...?"

"If you asked me to." The Russian laughed, glancing aside to gather up the things he'd need to use to style his husband's hair, "But probably only at the Ice Castle. Even I have some shame."

"Only when you're sober."

"You're one to talk!"

"...That's true." The younger figure smirked a bit, but then sighed dramatically as he finally zipped up the front of his team jacket. He looked to his partner, and then rather unceremoniously tilted back until he collapsed onto the man's lap, looking up at those blue eyes as he raised his arms up to loosely go around the Russian's waist, "...We both know what happens when we're drunk at the same time."

"Do I need to get an apology bouquet ordered and shipped home in advance?" Viktor smiled devilishly, "Žizn' moja, duša moja..."

"Are you going to spend all night whispering sweet Russian nothings into my ear, cackling to yourself about how I don't know what you're saying?"

The silver legend smiled innocently, bringing his hands over to settle on the sides of his husband's chest, "My sun, my life, my soul." He translated, "I really should've tried harder to get you to learn it when we were in St. Petersburg."

"In my defense, I have a really hard time making those mouth-sounds. Speaking English or Japanese is way different."

"Mouth-sounds." Viktor echoed.

"Mh."

Those crystal blue eyes just looked on adoringly, and he couldn't help but laugh at that, cackling just as Yuri had guessed he would. When he slowed again, he just stroked his husband's cheek with the edge of a curled finger, "I happen to like all the things you do with your mouth...sounds and everything else. You don't need a perfect accent for that."

Yuri's face reddened, but he wasn't about to be undone by that, giving a wry grin, "Well, I guess I would sound better if I have some Russian in me."

Even Viktor's face went red when he heard that, "Oh my...Yuri..."

The younger skater finally sat upright again, blushing all the more for his words, but turning to put his back to the silver legend, "We should get moving or we'll be late." He chanced a look over his shoulder, eyes half-lidded somewhat seductively, "Do me up?"

The Russian returned the gaze with one of his own, "With great pleasure."

.

['Love Comes Again' - DJ Tiësto]

Deep within me, turn all the secret stones
Forests and fields, breathing with blood and bones
Still no words we can speak, of paths to be chosen
But all trails that we trek, shall lead us back to here

Because our love comes again

Just when I've broken down I found, love can come again
You gotta believe that love comes again
Just when I've broken down I found, love can come again

Opening Ceremonies were still underway, but with the elaborate choreography of a rather large group of local talent, it was coming close to the end. The long speeches by ISU officials and USFS union representatives were already done, and the arena was low-lit in a dark ambiance, spotlights shining down and casting glittering shapes onto the rink and audience. The skaters putting on the last performance were clad in a dark ensemble to make them hard to see, unless their outfits were meant to be seen, in which case they glowed brightly with light. Men were donning sharp colors; red, purple, and green, and the ladies in pastel blue, pink, and yellow. They skated so fast and in such tight formation that it was hard to believe none of them would run into each other in the dark, especially with the confusion of different peoples' costumes suddenly bursting with light...but their show was well rehearsed, and the sight of them from the audience was a marvel.

Minako was scrunching up the corners of the flags she'd brought with her, anxiously waiting for the ceremony to end and the Men's Singles to step onto the ice. Her attention was suddenly grabbed by the feeling of a gloved hand covering both of hers, and she glanced to the left.

"You're not going to enjoy it if you spend all evening chewing on glass." Mikhail pointed out, "Relax a little. Viktor would've pulled him if he thought it was the best thing to do."

"Viktor has a conflict of interest." The ballerina retorted, going back to her flag-twisting, "He's not going to do anything that'll break Yuri's heart."

"Ehhhhh I'm not so sure of that. Vivi can be cruel at the worst of times." The elder Russian contested, lightly tapping the back of one of the woman's hands until she unraveled it from the folds of fabric and let him have it, "But...while he may have a bias towards wanting Yuri to be able to skate, I think his sense of duty would prevail if he had a real concern that letting Yuri skate would be dangerous. His bias may be for letting Yuri be happy, but he also happens to be biased towards wanting Yuri to come home on his feet, not in a wheelchair."

"...I guess so..."

"Viktor also agreed to do our Yura's choreography."

Minako's head popped up at that, and she whipped it around, grabbing the Russian by the front of his coat and yanking him closer suddenly, "What did you say...!?"

Mikhail coughed and wiggled to get free, but she had him tight, "...Vivi said he'd choreograph for Yura!"

"You're kidding."

"Why would I lie...!?" He asked nervously, putting his hands close to the backs of her wrists, "I didn't even have to beg; it was the craziest thing. He just said yes on the first attempt!"

"...Are you sure he didn't just agree because he was too stressed out to say no?"

"Why would he do that...?"

"You just got him to do that last weekend!"

"That was different! I had to wear him down that time before he'd agree! This time he just said okay without argument!" Mikhail huffed.

"He's got a lot of stuff going on right now, Mikhail Rozovsky! Yuri being hurt is a way bigger deal than just being away from him!"

Ah jeeze, she only says my name like that when I'm in trouble...! I thought she'd be happy about this...! The Russian thought nervously, only to find himself being let go all of a sudden. He cleared his throat quietly and adjusted his coat to sit it squarely on his shoulders again, then tightened his tie where it had come a bit loose. He reached a hand over to set it gently on the woman's knee and gave it a light squeeze, "...Don't worry so much about it...Viktor gave me his own reasons for why it was no big deal. I made sure he was sure this time."

"Reasons?" She repeated skeptically, wordlessly inviting the man to repeat that list.

"Vivi said that it would take next to nothing for him to put together a show for Yura." Mikhail started, "The kid learns super quickly and would need minimal help perfecting the moves after seeing it that first time. Vivi didn't sound opposed to working with Yura if he needed help fine tuning things...but from the sounds of it, he considers this kind of thing to be no different than how Yuri imitated his 'Aria' back in the day. Yura just watches and copies him. No conversation required."

Minako just grumbled quietly, but then toppled to the right, her head landing on Mari's shoulder, "...Make me stop worrying..."

The silver Russian just gave an incredulous look, but then turned, crossed his arms, and sulked.

As the music came to a close, the lights finally came on again, slowly getting brighter to let peoples' eyes adjust. The stands were still tightly packed, in spite of many likely having abandoned the event for lack of Leroy presence. The light-show skaters filed off the ice, and the curtain to the prep area pulled back to let them through. The Men's Singles competitors were already behind it, cued up to start making their way out after the last of the big group came through.

The lights were back to their normal brightness once the last figure disappeared, and finally, the six skaters and their collective ensemble pushed out. A new song started playing overhead, quiet at first with nothing but a drum-beat...but quintessentially American.

['Song 2' - Blur]

"Welcome to the ISU Grand Prix of Figure Skating Final in Detroit, Michigan, in these fabulous United States!" A newscaster spoke nearby, an NBC-logo microphone in his hand, and the athletes a mere 10ft further down the rink wall, "This is the Men's Short Program. The six gentlemen that qualified for this year's Final are about to head out into the rink for their 6-minute warm-up."

Overhead, the music quieted to half its original volume, and the sound of a woman's voice boomed throughout the stadium, "Ladies and Gentlemen, may we please introduce the skaters of the Men's Singles category!"

Phichit and Chris bolted out first, followed shortly after by the more calm and stoic Otabek, the subdued and anxious Yuri Plisetsky, and finally, hand-in-hand, the two Nikiforovs. The audience was cheering wildly as the six skaters glided effortlessly across the white frost, lining up together in the center, with about 8ft between them. Facing the judges' bench, the competitor's awaited their names to be called overhead.

"Skating for Thailand...Phichit Chulanont!" The announcer cried out, voice booming in the rafters. The audience cheered excitedly, and the young skater waved enthusiastically, giving a bow towards the judges from where he stood at the far right of the line.

The NBC Newscaster watched intently from rink-side, "Currently the only Thai skater to represent the Men's Singles, Phichit is back for his second year running in the Grand Prix Final. He was unexpectedly given the chance to skate this weekend after JJ Leroy was forced to withdraw, following a severe injury sustained during last night's practice. Phichit tied for the 6th spot, but was originally beaten out by a single point in total cumulative score."

"Representing Switzerland...Chris Giacometti!"

The blonde was at the front of the pack, but when facing the judges, he was farthest to the left. He raised a hand and blew a kiss to the audience as he turned in place.

"Skater Chris is the current Swiss National Champion, and comes back to the Grand Prix Final for one more shot at the Gold. A familiar face in the Final, Chris has consistently gotten onto the podium until just last year. It's an uphill climb for this veteran of the ice."

"Taking the ice for Russia...Yuri Plisetsky!"

Standing to Chris' right, Yurio simply held his right arm out to the side and bowed his head, then crossed a leg over the other to twist his black blades in place and face the other way, bowing his head to the audience there ahead of himself.

"Yuri Plisetsky is the current defending Champion, after winning it last year in an unprecedented record-breaking performance. He not only became the youngest skater in Men's Singles history to take the Gold at the Grand Prix Final, being only 15 at the time, but he did so after breaking long-time Champion and fellow Russian, Viktor Nikiforov's Short Program score. He's got some stiff competition this season though. Can he hold onto the Gold?"

"Performing for the nation of Kazakhstan...Otabek Altin!"

The stoic young skater was to Phichit's left, looking older than his years and more serious than most. He raised his arm and bowed deeply towards the judges, then rotated back around as he stood back upright, waving to all sides of the arena.

"Skater Otabek is kind of an enigma, performing well enough to get on the podium at many of his events, but is still considered a dark horse competitor for lack of a robust international fan-base. His growing popularity may boost him into the mainstream after this year though, and he may soon be a hero of the world, as well as his home country."

"Competing in the rink for Japan...Yuri Nikiforov!"

The audience went absolutely riotous at the sound of his name, and the young skater was caught off guard by it, wasting his moment in the proverbial spotlight with his hands over his mouth in awe, and forgetting to wave until the last second.

"Last year's Silver medalist, Yuri returns for his third year in a row, having marched from dead last in Sochi to 2nd place in Barcelona with the help of his coach and fellow competitor, skating legend Viktor Nikiforov. Yuri is considered a top contender for Gold this season, having won Gold at both of his qualifying events in previous weeks. We almost thought we lost him from the competition last night when he and skater Leroy collided during practice, so we're glad he's here with us today."

"And finally, last but not least, Russia's Viktor Nikiforov!"

Back by popular demand, the audience kept up the prior volume with new screams and cheers for the silver legend's introduction. The skater had lightly held his hands behind his back while he waited, but let his fingers unhook to swing his arms out and up to the sides, bowing ahead to the judges where he stood between the two Yuris, then turning to do the same to the audience behind himself. He waved excitedly as he turned back to his starting place.

"Olympic Champion, five-time consecutive World, European, Russian, and Grand Prix Final Gold medalist, Viktor is back for his first full season of competition after unexpectedly taking time off to be a coach to Japan's then Yuri Katsuki last year, returning in time to take Silver at Worlds. Like his student and now-husband, Viktor won Gold at both of his qualifying events this season. We've got some heavy-hitters playing ball this year! The top spot on the podium could go to almost anyone!"

"The skaters will now begin their 6-minute warm-up period."

The line of athletes burst out towards the rink-wall like a flock of startled birds, all heading in different directions to find their feet on the ice.