CHAPTER TWO HUNDRED EIGHTY SEVEN
['Sol Invictus' - Audiomachine]
Yuri watched excitedly as the once-seen dance began, and his legendary Champion of a husband rose up to his feet, gliding around to the quiet tempo of the music's introduction. The power of it grew with every second, and Viktor's performance became more and more energized as it went.
The first jump of that Short Program was some 30 seconds in; the quad Salchow, triple Toe-loop, and Viktor pushed through them like they were the easiest thing in the world. The deep bass of horns joined the rising crescendo of the music, and Viktor twizzled his way into a Death-drop sit-spin. Standard 'shoot the duck,' position first, with one leg stretched straight out in front, then the broken-leg twist variant. He shifted his feet beneath himself, grabbing the curve of a frost-covered golden blade and pulling it up underneath himself as he curled the rest of his body over top.
Viktor rose up from there to finish it out with a stretch, careful not to let it look like a scratch-spin as he slowed down, arms slowly rising up the length of his strong frame, up above his head. When he glided out of it, the strings joined the chorus, and a new level of drum-beats reverberated through the small arena, making the white-painted metal rafters vibrate with the beat. But it all suddenly cut off; the power of the music culminating into an abrupt silence, and the silver genius slid backwards on one blade. Legs were somewhat crossed and arms out...and the Russian suddenly and dramatically vaulted into the air with the bursting reintroduction of the orchestra. His right leg sprung out behind himself at the last second, and crushed down onto the ice to help him rise up. Both arms went up above his head in turn, and he rotated four times, landing on that same right blade before arcing around to continue on.
He still calls the quad Flip his signature move...but he's really kind of branded the quad Axel, too...
That very move came up next, topping the end of a serpentine step-sequence...but in that case, Viktor had only done the regular triple Axel before moving off again.
Yuri huffed a quiet laugh to himself, resting forward with his palms on the rink-wall next to his legs.
I guess that's why...a quad Axel is sheer madness, even for a Short Program. I remember how disappointed he was when he did it again in his Free Skate the next day, and it wore him down so much that he fell on his quad Flip after.
The backward-entry camel spin was already underway, twisting backward for the sideways variant, then straightening out slightly to hop and switch feet. One pale hand went reaching down for that newly-upturned blade and morphed the entire thing into a half-Biellmann spin to finish out the second level-4 spin.
The memory of those scores they'd left Worlds with were fresh in the younger skater's mind then.
346.04 and 345.96...Viktor broke the World Record for all of 5 minutes before I stole it out from under him. The margin between our two final scores was even closer than it was between Yurio and I at the GP Final before that...and yet...I never heard him complain.
He suddenly felt a little guilty to recall it, and the big kiss he'd gotten while in front of all those cameras when everyone realized he'd beaten the Russian Legend and ended that World Championship winning streak. Still, those brown eyes looked on adoringly as Viktor pushed into the final spin of the program; the combination.
I remember seeing the stunned look on his face when my score was called out, like he couldn't really believe it, even though he'd been cheering me on to get it. All the times he'd joked about how we'd both somehow win Gold, and it had suddenly hit him that he'd gotten Silver for the first time in six years. Maybe it didn't bother him because it was me who won the Gold, so it was a victory for the both of us given that he'd coached me.
The spin ended, and the music seemed to as well, but the quiet echo of those final few drum-beats pushed the silver legend through a few final dance maneuvers before he finally came to a stop.
Viktor wasn't quite as winded as he had been at the World Championships prior, but he had still worked up a good sweat, and he huffed and puffed dramatically as he meandered back towards the rink wall. He was happy and excited though, a big smile on his face, clearly pleased with himself, "That's how I wished I did that show before...but I guess I still technically scored higher, even if I missed the landing on the quad Axel, than I would've if I got a 3+ GOE on a triple." He said, hands perched on his hips as he glided closer.
"You think you might reprise this one for competing at the Olympics?" Yuri wondered, lifting his arms up to hold them out in offering, "We should start hearing the rumbles of team selections after we both get back from Nationals."
The Russian shrugged and slipped under those out-stretched arms, feeling them come down over his shoulders and hug around his back, pulling him in tighter as he returned the gesture with his own arms around his husband's waist. He turned to face inward, barely touching his forehead to the side of his partner's neck, and closed his eyes, "I haven't thought too much about the Olympics."
"Really? You were all excited about the idea when we were in Pyeongchan for Four Continents last year."
"Yeah, but that was way back before I had actually come back to competition, and I was still acting as just a coach." Viktor answered, feeling himself drawn even closer as Yuri lightly wrapped his legs around the back of his thighs, loosely crossing ankles over one another there, "The more I think about it, the less I really want to go."
"...Eh?"
Viktor lifted his head and turned his face to look up at his partner's eyes, sighing a bit before setting the tip of his nose against Yuri's chin, "As a competitor, I mean. Like I told you before, I wouldn't be able to coach you if I'm competing, too. It would seem like a huge conflict of interest, given that we'd be from rival countries. It's not like competing here at regular ISU events, where coaches and athletes can be mismatched and no one bats an eye. But the Olympics..."
"I guess so." The younger skater nodded, lifting his head to set that chin on top of his husband's head, thinking quietly, "Well..."
"...Hm?"
Yuri hesitated a moment, but then pulled back to look down at his spouse from his higher vantage, "Do you think, maybe...the whole idea of Pyeonchang was spoiled for you, because that's where we were then your family drama started?"
Viktor failed to hold in his surprise, but then drew in a breath and shook his head, "I suppose it's possible. But, maybe not as much as it might. You've never competed as an Olympian, so I'm not sure you know what it's like to be one while things are happening. At events like this, we athletes can all fit into a single hotel, since there's maybe...what, 150 total competitors at the most, for the biggest competition of the year?"
"...Sure?"
"The Olympics has some 700 or more athletes, and the venues aren't always ready when we get there, since they get built brand-new almost every time a host nation gets picked. It was especially bad at the last Summer Olympics...I remember people posting photos of broken sinks, half-assembled furniture, and teams trying to put up shower curtains because there were none. The Sochi Olympics weren't all that much better...and that doesn't even account for the scandal of Russian officials rounding up all the stray dogs and sho-"
"Nope." Yuri put both hands on his husband's mouth to stop him.
The Russian just blinked from behind the man's fingers, but nodded in silent agreement not to continue that train of thought, and the hands were pulled away, retaking their place behind his shoulders, "In any case...all the different teams stay together, in isolation to the rest. We likely wouldn't be able to get accommodations together, on top of the fact that I couldn't coach you."
"Well that's just depressing." The younger skater huffed, "...Though I guess it wouldn't be a whole lot different if we were competing for the same team somehow."
"How do you mean?"
"If teams are shacking up together, it'd be us and a whole group of other people. Not a whole lot of privacy. Although..." Yuri set a finger on his lip, "Since it is in Pyeonchang, it's a super short flight out of Fukuoka, so we wouldn't have to stay as long."
"...Eh, it doesn't really matter." Viktor shrugged, and leaned back to pull his partner off the wall, skates clattering on the ice where he landed, "I'd rather go as your coach and not compete at all. I've won enough Gold medals for Russia as it is. They have Yurio now."
"...You'd really give up your Olympic spot because of me...?" Yuri was stunned, letting the Russian pull him along gently by his hands, "Viktor..."
"It's not like we could ever compete together. Neither of us can just whip a citizenship out of thin air. This close to the Olympics, even if we could, one of us would be kicking someone off the existing list of considerations, and that would just make the original athletes a bit mad." He explained, twisting around to skate forward, and letting go of one hand in the process, keeping the other held between them, "Like with the weird idea that the Koreans have to sport a unified hockey team. The South is mad about having to give up spots belonging to their known and trusted teammates, and the North sucks." They moved quietly along the rink wall, looking up and around at the scenery; the multitude of yellow-orange banners hanging from the ceiling for prior awards won by athletes who trained there, and both the American and Canadian flags held aloft as well, "And in another four years...well, I won't be competing at all anymore, so there's no point thinking about 'next time.'"
"In another four years, I'll be retiring."
"Worlds of that year would still be after those Olympics."
"I know...I was just pointing it out. You're not alone."
Viktor wasn't sure he was happy about that, and just grimaced quietly as he kept his eyes forward.
Yuri spotted it and hopped a step to go faster, flicking his blades to spin himself around and go backwards before his partner. Still holding to the Russian's right hand like before, he let himself slide in closer, and pulled Viktor's free hand to his waist, while settling his own over the anxious older skater's shoulder, "Don't look so glum. By then, I'll be a consecutive five-time World Champion, just like you, and the both of us will be getting invitations to skate Exhibitions at all these fancy non-competitive events, like Art on Ice or something."
The silver legend held quietly for a moment. It wasn't the first time he'd heard those ideas before...but it didn't make the idea of the both of them being retired from competition any easier. He felt as his skates scratched over the ice for a few silent seconds longer, only to suddenly shrug off the hand sitting on his shoulder, reaching to set it on his waist instead, and placed his own over his partner's shoulder instead, much to Yuri's confusion.
...He wants me to lead...? Since when...?
"I'll follow wherever you go." Viktor said simply, "You need only show me the way."
Yuri was still perplexed, but the approach of the rink wall forced him to start moving to curve them away, and he tilted his thin frame to lean into a curve, noticing his partner doing the same in turn.
This is weird... He thought to himself, Even when I lead in our Pair Skates, it's still technically his program, so I'm just leading him where he tells me to...but now I'm actually the one deciding where we go, on my own? I haven't done that since I learned Ballroom dancing years back...
Still, that instinct helped him adapt to the situation, and he did his best to glide them through some rudimentary maneuvers, "Sorry...I'm not used to doing this kind of thing on skates..."
"You're doing fine." Viktor reassured, "Just like when you made those changes to our Pair Exhibition at NHK last weekend."
"Oh!" The younger skater had practically forgotten, his cheeks flushing a bit, "Wow, yeah... I was so worked up about everything else..." He glanced down at that memory, but then shook his head and raised his eyes again, nodding, more assured than before, "...Do you know the moves to a Waltz?"
The Russian huffed a laugh, his eyes smiling, "Do I know a Waltz?"
"Ah..." The younger spouse's face went redder than before, "You're right. Stupid question. We've just never done a regular dance like that before."
"Maybe we should start." Viktor suggested excitedly, perking up a bit from his glumness from before, and standing up a bit straighter, "Show me what you've got, Yuri." He said, holding their upturned hands a bit higher and bringing his boots together where they had paused, "I feel like I've only seen the tip of the iceberg with some of your moves."
"Okay then..." He answered nervously, brushing his hand up from his husband's waist to just behind a shoulder-blade, and setting his feet together as well, effectively putting them toe-to-toe with each other. He swallowed and looked up into those crystal eyes, but then let instinct take over, pushing forward on a toe-pick to make the man step back...and twist slightly to the right, each extending their foot in that direction before setting it down. They moved through fluidly, their feet apart; at the same time, Yuri clicked his right foot to bring it back towards the left, and Viktor did the same with the opposite feet, putting them both toe-to-toe again.
One two three...forward, side, together...
Yuri stepped back wide then, arcing his right foot towards the inside aspect of their little stepping-box, and pulled his husband along. They were back in their starting places, feet apart...and brought the farther one back to center.
Four five six...back, side, together...
And again, Yuri pushed forward.
One two three...forward, side, together...
And once more, he pulled back.
Four five six...back, side, together...
As they repeated it a few times on their toe-picks, getting used to the feel of the steps, they started to lean back on their rockers, swaying their stepping-feet further away and holding it out instead of setting it down right away. When they changed feet, it was fluid, and the box suddenly became the entire rink.
Eventually though, Yuri couldn't help but slow it down and shake his head, highly entertained by the whole thing, "Gerard is probably wondering if we're on drugs or something."
"Why? I was having fun...!"
"Me too." The younger nodded, keeping their hands together as he started moving them back towards center, "But I originally had something else in mind. Maybe you'll be interested...you probably know a few steps."
"Sounds like more scheming." Viktor laughed, letting go to skate a wide circle around his partner where Yuri was taking position in center. He watched as his spouse took a rather familiar stance; weight on the left blade, right slightly behind it with the toe-pick down to hold him still, and a lowered head, "Ah...an old favorite."
"I think so." Yuri mused, holding for a few seconds and hoping Gerard was still watching.
To Viktor's surprise though...it wasn't the hum of 'Aria' that started to play high above. It was the piano of a much more recent venture, "'Yuri on Ice!'" He exclaimed, whipping his head around to watch as the skater started to raise his hands up in front of himself, right slightly closer to himself than the left, then looking up slightly as he spread his arms out to the side.
Yuri pushed away then, skating a wider circle as the melody above continued, "You going to join in or just watch?"
"Oh!" The Russian could hardly believe he'd just been standing there gawking, and quickly fell in line close by. The movement pattern came back to him rather quickly, even though it had been a while since he'd last seen or helped practice it.
They slid through the increasing tempo of the piano, the pause, and the new beginning with the deep, bass-like pull on the lower-toned keys. The dance steps, the jumps, the spins, the addition of the violins...and then the music got quiet again.
They glided across the ice, arms outstretched, before pulling them in again and dipping low together, right leg trailing behind. Rising up, twisting around...the long Ina Bauer, and the triumphant bursting out again.
Every time I hear this song, it means a little something different to me.
They could almost hear that crowd again from the end of both the Barcelona Final, and the Helsinki Worlds event. The roar was powerful...and then went silent, as the pair vaulted through their side-by-side quad Flip. The final combination spin was all that remained, and when all was said and done...the sit-spin rising into an upright scratch spin...they raised their hands out towards one another, and puffed a few breaths as they smiled for the end of the performance.
Viktor was the first to move, reaching his extended hand out for his husband's and curling his fingers around the others, pulling the man closer, "That was a lot of fun, too. What other songs did you send?"
"The ones we're supposed to be practicing." Yuri laughed, still trying to catch his breath, "For the next few hours...we should probably focus on what we came here to do."
"...Probably." The Russian agreed, raising a hand to scratch at the back of his head, the other settling on his hip. He then crossed his arms though, and gave that certain look on his face that he got when he was ready and confident, "...Saaaa~ Ikuzo!"