CHAPTER TWO HUNDRED EIGHTY EIGHT

The hours seemed to fly by, each skater taking their turn to go through their Free Program, and then back up to make improvements or changes. By the time Viktor's stamina ran dry, he collapsed from his final pose and just went down to his back in the middle of the rink, heaving for breath.

Yuri clapped and glided over, descending to one knee as he got closer, "You look like you're about done."

"Haah...yeah...hahhh...very done..."

He stretched a hand down to press against his husband's chest, and the figure-hugging black work-out shirt he'd been wearing, with its Russian-flag-colored lineart of the double-headed eagle crest emblazoned on the back, the wings curving around to the front. The thin elastic material was cold and damp though, and Yuri made a face, "You're all cold and sweaty. We should shower before leaving."

"What? You...haahh...don't want me all gross and wet for tonight...?" Viktor laughed in spite of his urgent need for wind. Just as he took that hand from his chest, feeling where his partner was moving to help hoist him up, he pulled down just hard enough to put Yuri off balance, and pulled him right down on top of himself. Half a second later, their positions reversed, and the victorious Russian was looking down on his flustered and surprised spouse, "How do you like me now...?"

"You're still cold and sweaty." Yuri answered, though he played along anyway, pulling his one hand free to raise them both up around his partner's sides and hugged him there around his lower back, "But I guess that's okay for now."

Cool blue eyes looked on, and the Russian smiled, "That's good."

"Sou ka?"

"Mh." He nodded lightly, closing his eyes then and lowering himself down, setting the full length of his cold and sweaty self over his husband's frame, and kissed him. He could feel the sharp inhalation from his partner as their lips touched, and the tighter squeeze of those arms around his core, and it just made the silver Russian smile all the more. When he finally pulled back, it wasn't very far, nuzzling his partner's nose adoringly, "Hmm... Did that count as a do-over?"

"Of Beijing?" Yuri huffed a single quiet laugh, "I'd call it the sequel."

"A sequel?" Viktor echoed, "Aren't sequels usually worse though?"

"...Okay, maybe the second in a trilogy then." The younger skater corrected sheepishly, raising up his outside leg, bent at the knee, "I'll be anxiously awaiting the next time you knock me onto my back on the ice. To finish out the series."

"Why only three?" The Russian mused, pushing up to his hands, and then his knees, to start rising back to his feet again. Once sitting on his haunches, he set his left hand on his thigh and offered the right to his partner, "I'll bowl you over onto the ice as many times as you like."

"All things in moderation." Yuri explained, taking the hand and letting his partner hoist him back up to his feet, then snaking that same arm behind the man's hips, "Sometimes the absence of something is more tantalizing than the something itself."

They started making their way towards the cut-out for the rink doorway, when Viktor suddenly dug in a toe-pick and stopped in his tracks, "...Wait...are you saying my kisses aren't exciting anymore...?" His voice all-but cracked at the end, rivers of tears comically trailing down his face suddenly in panic, "Yuri...!" He whined, looking rather heartbroken.

"V-Viktor!?" The younger figure spun around suddenly, waving his hands around frantically, "That's not what I meant at all!"

The Russian still slid back down to the ice, practically curling up into the fetal position on his side, "My husband thinks my kisses are boring!"

"I didn't say that!" Yuri was on his knees then, rising and falling in dramatic and apologetic bows, "That's not even close to what I meant!"

"...I can't recover from this..."

Yuri set his hands palms-down onto the ice, glowering down at his weeping spouse, "All I meant was that if you do it too often, it won't be a surprise anymore! I mean, you're all about surprises! If bowling me over becomes too routine then I'll start to expect it!"

Viktor at least rolled onto his back, his shoulders lightly splashing into the puddle of his own making, looking up with those tear-filled eyes to his upside-down husband, "...So you don't think...my kisses...are boring...?"

"Tondemonai!" Yuri insisted, "How could kisses from you ever be boring!? I still get flutters in my gut when you do it!"

"...H-honto...ni...?"

"Mochiron desu!"

Crystal eyes kept on looking, only to suddenly fill with a brand new deluge of tears, and the Russian reached up both arms to grab his husband's head, pulling him down to squish the man's face against his chest, "Yuri doesn't think my kisses are boring!" He brought his knees up together for good measure, skates kicking up and down, slowly back and forth.

The younger man flailed at the unexpected gesture, but could do nothing more than ask 'who are you even talking to!?' in muffled words where his face was mashed against cold-and-wet fabric.

By the time they'd finally made it into the locker-room to change and clean up, Viktor had finally stopped crying, but he was clinging to his partner's back with his forehead on one shoulder like he wouldn't know where to go if not guided. Yuri eventually sat him down on one of the benches, taking his own place next to him to start pulling his skates off. The Russian went the opposite way, trying to peel out of his cold-and-cooling clothing...but Yuri could see that he'd stopped in the middle of things out the corner of his eye.

"...Yuri..."

"Huh?" He glanced up, only to spot his husband in a tangle of dark fabric and limbs, "...Ussou...!"

Viktor's eyes were still visible through the neck-hole in the top, but the sleeves and trunk of the shirt were all tangled around him, "...I'm stuck."

"How did you even manage to get like this...?" Yuri asked, still gaping at the man as he stood up with only one skate off, leaning forward to examine him, "Oh, no wonder, you stuck your hand through the neck-hole. Why would you even do that?"

"...I think I slipped. The whole thing is stuck to me like glue." Viktor lamented, "My fingers are starting to tingle though. Help a guy out?"

"You're hopeless." Yuri shook his head and laughed to himself, but went to the task of untangling his knotted-up husband from his confines. With a few clever tugs, the man was at least in normal anatomical position again, and Yuri could pull on the base of the shirt to literally peel it off the Russian's trunk and arms. The vestment practically snapped like an elastic once it was finally unraveled and came off the end of Viktor's hands, "There. You're free."

"...Yatta~!"

"Hm..." The younger figure pulled the sleeves through so the garment was right-side-out again, looking at the design carefully, but then asked something entirely unrelated, "You've been speaking a lot of Japanese this weekend."

"Am I wrong to?" The silver Russian wondered, reaching for the soggy practice shirt and setting it aside before pulling one leg over the other to start working on the laces of his skate, "I live in Japan now..."

"I suppose that is a fact." Yuri nodded, retaking his seat to finish with his own skates, "I guess it just makes me a bit self-conscious that I never picked up that much Russian when we were living in St. Petersburg."

"We were only there for just over two months. I've been in Japan for almost two years. If not for most people speaking English in Hasetsu for my sake, I'd probably be fluent by now."

"I guess that's true, too." The second skate came off, and Yuri moved to peeling his loose, light-grey t-shirt off, "Do you need me to practice with you more? I could ask my family to speak in Japanese more often around you, too, if you want."

"...Maji de?"

"Sono tori."

"It's not too much trouble?"

"How else will you learn?"

"What about the writing...?"

Yuri blinked at him, "Er...well, I could teach you the basics, but I don't know that I'd be so good at explaining Kanji." He admitted nervously.

"Why would it be so hard? They're basically just pictograms, right? Like, each one means a specific concept."

"Eh...generally speaking, sure... Most Kanji denote a certain sound that you make, and it can change depending on where you see it in a sentence." He tried to explain, thinking of some way to make it sound coherent, "For example...the character 'yama.' On its own, it means 'mountain,' and usually that's how you pronounce it, like the name 'Yamaguchi.' But if you put 'yama' at the end, it can be pronounced as 'zun,' as in the word for volcano...'kazun,' or 'fire mountain.' If you were actually talking about a volcano and said 'kayama' instead, because of the characters used to write it, people would look at you funny, since it means nothing on its own. Usually 'kayama' is a surname."

"...That sounds easy enough."

"Do that with some 2,000 commonly-used Kanji." Yuri deadpanned him, "That's the level for people coming out of high-school."

The Russian just blinked back, turning to look ahead of himself a moment later, "...Wow...2,000..."

"That's the bare-bones basics. Most people know more than that, depending on what they're interested or specialize in."

"How many do you know...?" Viktor wondered, pulling off the first skate and reaching for the second.

"Probably not as many as I used to, since moving to here before and staying for so long." The younger figure answered, packing his blades safely away in his backpack, "If you don't use it, you lose it. I had zero need for my Japanese while I was living state-side, so I lost most of my accent and probably half my Kanji-fluency in the process. I'm sure I've picked a bunch of it back up since moving back to Hasetsu though, but I know I'm still lacking in places."

"...Cyrillic is much easier." The Russian said proudly, "Only 33 characters and each word is clustered together, so all you have to do is say the cluster out loud to know what word it is."

"If you can pronounce the cluster." Yuri teased, "That whole time we were in St. Petersburg, every time we passed a stop-sign, I'd look at the Cyrillic (стоп) and read it in my head like the letters were English, so it would come out like 'ki-ton' or 'see-ton.'"

Viktor tried to hold in a laugh, but was failing miserably at it, "...The Russian word for 'stop' is also 'stop.' That's literally what the signs were saying. Those four Cyrillic letters correspond with S, T, O, and P."

The younger skater's cheeks went pink to hear it, "...The whole time, huh?"

"Mhm."

"Hm."

Viktor couldn't hold it in anymore and just burst out laughing, reaching an arm over his husband's shoulders to pull him into it, though Yuri just gave a nervous and embarrassed smile, "Ki-ton, Yuri."

"Stop it."

"Ki-ton!"

"Yameteeeeeeee!"

In spite of the relentless teasing, something Yuri knew he'd probably never live down, the duo eventually made it over to the showers to hose-off the afternoon's sweat and sock-lint.

"Careful," Yuri warned, standing back a bit with his arms crossed, "The water that comes out of those shower-heads is more like a dagger-spray."

"Hm...sou ka." The inquisitive Russian noted, side-stepping a bit to avoid the initial blast and pulled on the wall-faucet to start the torrent. He held his hand into the watery hiss, "It feels okay."

"You have your hand way down here though." The younger man pointed out, imitating where his partner had just tested the spray, "It has a chance to soften by the-...Viktor."

"Everything is okay." He explained stiffly, stepping right into the rush, and smiling nervously, "This is fine."

Yuri raised an eyebrow and stepped closer, holding his hand out, "...This is freezing cold!"

"I substitute your reality and replace it with my own." The frozen skater answered.

"How are you even standing under that!?"

Viktor answered that by reaching forward suddenly and pulling his spouse into the cold spray, "It's like Epiphany in St. Petersburg!"

"Idon'tknowwhatthatisohmygodit'scoldit'slikeneedlesinmyskin."

The Russian just kept grinning, holding his squirmy husband in place, "They cut holes into the ice over the River Neva and people jump in to celebrate the Baptism!"

Yuri finally wiggled free and scrambled towards the nearest tile-covered wall, shivering terribly and gaping at the silver legend still standing in the frozen-cold water, "Th-th-tha-a-a-a-t's...cr-crazy! Wh-who w-w-would j-jump into a f-f-frozen riv-ver!?"

Viktor smiled and pointed at himself.

"Oh...of-of c-course y-you've d-done it-t-t-t..."

"Plenty of people in St. Petersburg do! Some just for novelty's sake!" He explained, though finally turning around and twisting the nozzle to make the water warm up some, and then waiting a moment before reaching his hand out, "It's hot now, I promise."

The younger figure was still somewhat skeptical, giving his partner a look. But, he could soon feel the water warming at his toes, and the frozen fog changed over to heated steam. The chill of not being under the water was suddenly worse than being out in the open, and he finally accepted the invitation.

With the spray-down being a swift venture, the pair weren't long in getting dried and dressed again after that. However, even though they'd styled their hair for competition, they weren't leaving in their team track-suits.

Yuri clicked into his phone and looked at the numbers that appeared on the screen, "It's about 4:30 now. Plenty of time."

"It's handy that the place we're going is right next to the hotel." Viktor agreed, sliding his arms into his winter long-coat, a dark-grey suit concealed beneath it, "There won't be any surprises getting to the Free Skate afterwards."

"This place even offers shuttles straight from their venue to the arena." The younger man went on, slinging a scarf around his neck and shoulders over his own buttoned-up jacket, "It's practically designed for people who are here just for events."

"That's handy."

Coach Gerard was waiting at the exit for them, hands on his hips, reaching the right forward towards Yuri, "Good luck tonight, kid. The competition is pretty stiff, but I think you stand a good chance at getting Gold anyway, given what I saw earlier."

He nodded and accepted the hand, shaking it once, "Domo."

The older man then reached that same hand towards Viktor, "Good luck to you as well, and thank you for helping him get this far. Celestino did his best, but it's clear Yuri needed a special touch to really motivate him."

The Russian smiled and nodded, knowing better now than to make a wry joke out of those chosen words, and shook the hand, "It was always my pleasure. Thank you again for letting us skate here this afternoon. I got to experience a little bit of Yuri's past that I might never have otherwise."

"Maybe it'll be me thanking you soon. Not every Skate Club can brag about having two World Champions skating on its ice, never mind the blades of Viktor Nikiforov. Now, we can. It might inspire more aspiring skaters to come and train at our rink, knowing you were here with Yuri."

The younger skater was beaming with pride, setting a hand against the lower part of his husband's back, "We'll come back tomorrow and say hi to the rest, before the Exhibition."

Gerard nodded, "I'll tell everyone. See you both then."

The pair nodded, and waved one last time as they pushed through the doors towards the outside, reaching an arm around one another as they walked out into the winter winds.

Watching from inside, the older Coach clicked the doors locked, and stood by until he spotted the skaters get into their car. He couldn't help but reminisce about all those past days where he'd spotted Yuri fawning over the Russian's skating; watching videos of jumps to learn by, reading magazine articles that featured the legendary genius' exploits, and all the times he'd been so excited to depart from the Skate Club to some event where they would share the ice.

All those years you idolized Viktor, and wanted to be just like him. I don't think it ever crossed your mind though that you'd ever be his peer, never mind his equal one day. But, the distance you've come since that last time you were training here...how you left this place utterly heartbroken and devastated. It just goes to show, no matter how much potential you have...

The pair had paused behind the car, putting their gear into the back alongside the rest of the things they'd brought. They exchanged some words, unheard by the man inside the building, then parted to go to their respective sides of the vehicle before getting in. The brake lights came on soon after, followed by the white 'reverse' lights as the car pulled out of its spot and started to arc around.

...If you don't have the right kind of support system to back you up, and help keep you in the fight, you'll always be limited in what you can accomplish. No one can make it alone.

.

Pulling up to the familiar sight of the GM Renaissance Center, and their hotel looming high above, it was easy to spot the front of their target restaurant. They'd passed it a number of times in their comings and goings since arriving in the city. After all, the entrance to the venue was maybe 50ft up the road from the Marriott's main entrance.

The signs for the Joe Muer Seafood Valet Parking placed the rental vehicle directly under the covered bridge that connected the hotel with the Public Parking Garage across the street. They each stepped out, got their Valet ticket, and made their way under the distinct red arch above the doors. Within was a large lobby with a checker-board-styled tile floor directly in front of the restaurant front, and a big spiral stair-case that lead to an upper level.

With the indoors being much warmer than the out, the duo helped one another out of their jackets, each holding their own over an arm before making their way towards the final set of doors. Those were pulled open by waiting staff, who held their hands towards the interior.

"Welcome, Mr. and Mr. Nikiforov."

"Oh! They know us!" Viktor fawned in a whisper, drawing nearer to his husband as their jackets and scarves were taken, "Are these people skating fans?"

"I imagine they're fans of anything that brings them revenue." Yuri whispered back, "This weekend, it happens to be us."

Within, the wide checker pattern on the tile floor became smaller, with each tile a different color rather than grouped into clusters. The walls to the right were like wood-grain, and to the left, glass walls with half-high interior curtains that cordoned off private dining rooms for larger groups.

"Welcome to Joe Muer's." A host on the other side of a podium asked, getting their attention, "We already have your table ready. Please, follow me."

"Wow~!" Viktor fawned again, "When you said you'd made a reservation, I thought it would just be the normal fare...this is actually pretty impressive so far."

"What, do you think I just made this reservation today?" Yuri wondered, leading his partner along through the corridors that lead past a small waiting area, and an odd drift-wood sculpture. On the wood-grain walls were a number of old black-and-white photos, and paintings of fishing boats. They veered to the left, passing a large sports-type bar with television sets above the serving area, and a long buffet-style display case filled with ice and different seafood options; mussels, lobster, crab, oysters, shrimp, and the like. Walls were replaced with the high backs of booth-style seating, with another level of glass wall above them, and small curtains along their length. The boots were black at first, then red along the far wall, past an open space where a duo of musicians, a cellist and a pianist, had been set up. At the start of the red-backed booths, a single table had been set up, with a moderate distance between it and the next nearest tables. To Viktor's delight and surprise, the pianist started playing a familiar tune.

['Stay Close To Me/Stammi Vicino (DUETTO) ~ YURI ON ICE EP 12 / Piano ver.' - Rui Ruii the Seal Pianist]

They hadn't even been seated yet before the ecstatic Russian was frantically tapping his partner's shoulder, trying to get his attention, "Yuri! Yuri he's playing Duetto! Yuri~!"

Other patrons had started to take notice, first to the music change, and then to the silver-haired man who was all-but bouncing off the walls with excitement. Many of them started clapping as they noticed the pair finally getting to their little table.

Viktor suddenly grabbed Yuri's head in surprise, hugging it close to his chest and gawking in all directions, "What in the world is going on? This isn't a regular reservation! Yuri!"

"Mphrpmphr!"

Blue eyes turned to look at the hapless younger man, seeing arms up and initially flailing, only to droop low in surrender, "...Oh! Sorry!" He let go quickly and straightened out his husband's disheveled hair and suit jacket.

"I made this reservation months ago." Yuri finally managed to explain, pulling his tie a bit tighter to put it back into its prior place, then taking his seat, putting his back towards the musicians. He watched his anxious and excitable husband take the seat across from him, in the booth portion, facing both him and the duet of instrumentalists, "As soon as the triplets announced that the Final was being held here, I started getting ideas about what to do. It just kind of snowballed from there." He smiled, his cheeks flushing a bit as they each took menus from the host, "I made sure to call when it was the middle of the night back home, so there was less of a chance of you overhearing...and when I told the person who picked up that we were competitors for the Final, I was handed off to someone in management. The next thing I know, I'm being asked if we want live music, and if it would be okay that the musicians learn some of our old songs. Naturally, I said that was fine, and I gave them a few of the new ones, too." He looked back over his shoulders, spotting the other diners who were, in turn, looking back at them. He turned towards his partner again, "I bet a big number of people here this weekend are also here for the Final...so they were clapping because they recognize us."

A few seconds later, short red-chestnut box was placed in front of each of them, followed by a 6in high flute. Much to Viktor's shock, alcohol was poured into each of them, "...I thought...you didn't want to drink before competition?"

"I asked them to bring us one glass each, and not to take any other requests from either of us." Yuri explained, "And I know that sweet-potato shōchū is your favorite thing from back home...so...I asked them to make sure they had a bottle for us."

"Wow~!" The silver legend reached for the glass, "You really thought of everything." He paused though and looked over-top of it, "...Weren't you originally planning for this stuff to happen yesterday though?"

"I thought we'd do stuff with friends yesterday. We kind of did...it just wasn't what I had had in mind. For obvious reasons."

"Oh..."

Yuri saw the expression on his husband's face change, and leaned his hand across the table to get the man to look up again, even if only slightly, "What happened isn't your fault. There was nothing you could've done to change it."

"...I could've at least remembered our engagement anniversary..." Viktor sighed, setting the glass down again in its little wooden box.

"It's okay! Really!" The younger man tried to reassure, finding his spouse's fingers as they left the shōchū flute, "There were a lot of things going on all summer and fall. You had a full plate."

"...I'm sure I thought about it even then. It just...after things started happening...all I could do was just think about things one day at a time...and I got lost in it all..."

The music around them changed after the piano solo of Duetto ended. This time, the cellist took part.

['Tribute to 'Yuri! on ICE' (Yuri! on Ice Theme Song)' - Retrospective]

The instantly-recognizable melody of 'History Maker' started up between the two musicians, and Viktor was caught between his melancholy and wanting to be happy.

"Viktor...this is something I wanted to do for us." Yuri started again, trying to get the man's mind back to where it had been a few moments prior, "I actually had spies all over Hasetsu keeping an ear out in case anyone overheard you trying to make your own plans. The longer things went without any news, the more I thought you might try to do something spontaneous once we were here, like you usually do. Then crap started hitting the proverbial fan, over and over again, and the anniversary got pushed out of both of our minds. If not for the fact that I'd gotten an email back home confirming that we were still coming, it might've slipped my mind, too, especially after I was such a dingus on Thursday and got run over."

The melody of 'History Maker' fluidly morphed into 'Eros' suddenly, which made the Russian give off a reluctant smile.

"We'll have a little time at home to decompress once we're done here tomorrow." Yuri offered, "You can take the lead on planning for our wedding anniversary before Worlds if you want. March 16th. I think that one's a slightly bigger deal anyway, right?"

'Eros' quickly changed over into 'Aria' briefly...and the piano introduction from 'Yuri on Ice' started to play within it, fusing the two songs together.

Viktor raised up his other hand, covering his mouth with it as he heard the song go on. When the cello faded down to just the piano, tears fell from his eyes, and he choked a reluctant breath, lowering his face down to avoid being seen.

Not that it did anything to stop Yuri from noticing, and he quickly rose from his seat, moving around to put his arms over his husband's shoulders, pulling his brow to one shoulder, "...Viktor..."

"...I don't...know how much more of an emotional wreck I can be at this point. I'm reduced to tears over music now..." He answered against shaky breaths, fingers reaching up to curl lightly around his partner's sides, "I'm sorry...that I'm not stronger..."

"I've told you once before that you're the strongest person I know." Yuri explained, rubbing one hand across his husband's back, "But you've been strong for so long now. Every little thing that's happened so far this season has been whittling away at you. 'Death by a thousand cuts' is still death in the end though...and you, of all people, need time to rest and recover. So let down and take it easy for a bit. It's just us now. We'll tear up the ice at tonight's Free Program, and we'll get up on that podium after that with our SkateSon...and tomorrow at the Exhibition, we'll do that Team Skate we've been planning since France. Then we can go home, curl up with our dog, and sleep for a whole week."

The Russian snuffled a bit, but pulled back and nodded weakly, "...That actually sounds really good right about now..." He leaned back against the booth and slouched a bit, reaching his hands for his partner's where Yuri had sat next to him, hands in his lap, "It'll be nice for all three of us to be on the podium together."

"Mh. The Podium Fam." Yuri mused, rubbing his thumb reassuringly over a paler one in his grasp, "We did say that we'd only do the Team Skate if all three of us medaled. Naturally, I'll take the Gold...and you can fight with Yurio for Silver."

"Oh, he's taking Bronze, no question." Viktor answered, huffing a pained laugh, "If he ever medals higher than I do while I'm still competing, I'll throw him off the podium myself."

"That's just what I like to hear."

The Russian smiled to hear those words, an echo of his own from what felt like eons ago. He lifted his head finally, seeing the warm look on his husband's face, "You're too good for me. I don't know how I ever deserved you."

"Showing up naked in my hot-spring probably helped."

Viktor finally cracked, and laughed, "Did it really?"

"Maybe a little bit." Yuri answered, leaning forward and tilting his head slightly, "I just didn't know it at the time."

"Hmm..."

The kiss was wet and a bit salty, but it was still soft and warm, and the younger husband followed it with a kiss to his partner's forehead, "Now, are you ready to enjoy yourself for a while?"

The Russian nodded, grabbing the folded fabric napkin from the table and used it to dry his face, then unfurled it over his lap and nodded as Yuri retook his seat, "Absolutely."

.

.

.

Tondemonai = Absolutely not/No way

Honto ni? = Really? (Informal)

Mochiron desu = For sure! (Formal agreement with whatever's been said)

Ussou! = Generic equivalent to 'what in the world?' where you're expressing disbelief at something

Maji de? =Seriously?/Really? (Slang)

Sono tori = That's right/Naturally