CHAPTER THREE HUNDRED TWENTY EIGHT
v-nikiforov
[picture - ring hands holding to one another on a table-top]
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v-nikiforov Спасибо всем Thank you everyone for your kind words and support after the news from yesterday. Ϭy-nikiforov and I are taking some time to ourselves, and to think about moving forward. There's still a lot of work to be done and we want to be ready and recovered for #JapaneseNationals. Wishing good luck to all my friends and colleagues competing at #RussianNationals in a week and a half, and sorry to all my fans who were hoping to see me compete there. Please show your support for Ϭyuri-plisetsky and all the other skaters on #TeamYakov.
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y-nikiforov みなさんありがとうWe're both doing okay for now. Trying to focus on the positive. We'll be back and ready to go once we've had some time to adjust. We also have a new #puppy to distract us and keep #Makkachin on his toes.
yuri-plisetsky Ϭy-nikiforov don't let him get drunk, I think we've seen enough of his bare arse on top of a tall building to last a lifetime. We don't need to see him getting up on top of Hasetsu Castle, too.
christophe-gc Always taking the high road, Viktor. I envy your ability to hold back from throwing shade over this. I'd be telling the RSF to kick rocks.
mila-babi Aww Viktor! At least you can still be a coach! You'll be with Yuri at the Olympics and Worlds right?
phichit-chu PUPPY?
2 hours ago
y-nikiforov
[picture - Jiro being adorable]
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y-nikiforov Ϭphichit-chu Jiro
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phichit-chu OH MY GOD HE'S SO FLUFFY AND LITTLE
1 hour ago
Making the posts on each of their accounts had been something of a relief to Viktor, enough so that he'd been able to relax and get a little sleep. Refusing to leave his husband's side though, he opted to sleep on the couch, curled around the man much like Makkachin had done to him on the eve of seeing Yuri's viral video, skating to his 'Aria.' With a blanket over the both of them, and Viktor no longer so stressed that he was feverish, he latched himself to his partner's thin frame, and dozed to the gentle beating of that calming heart.
Yuri was could handle a little husband-related paralysis though, so staying put and letting the Russian sleep was an easy thing to do. It was easily after dark again already before Viktor stirred. Sleeping in so late to begin with, and the early setting of the winter sun, meant it was black as night outside before 5:30pm.
The Russian's silver-haired head lifted slightly, turned, and settled down again. Viktor moved his left arm after that, sliding it closer from where it had been draped over Yuri's stomach, curling his fingers slightly and settling it just next to his cheek on Yuri's chest instead. For a few moments, it seemed like he had fallen asleep again, but just as Yuri pulled his own left hand up to comb it through the Russian's hair, Viktor lifted his head and turned it to cast those blue eyes on the younger man's face.
"Oh...hey."
The Russian blinked hazily, "...What time is it...? It's night... You didn't let me sleep all day, did you?"
"It's only been 3 hours." Yuri answered, finally petting that head, "I'd rather you keep sleeping though if you're still tired."
"...I...think I'm okay for now." Viktor answered, pushing up with his right arm and leaning to sit, setting his hands down where he could feel his husband's knees under the blanket, settled over his lap still. He yawned and rubbed his eyes on the back of one wrist.
"How do you feel now?" Yuri wondered, watching his partner carefully.
"Better." The Russian explained, though still feeling a little out of sorts. He dropped his hand back down and stared for a minute at the television, "...Hungry..."
"Already...?" Yuri was a bit surprised, but supposing it made sense anyway, since Viktor often woke up feeling peckish, "Let me see if there's anything left to make...we haven't gone shopping yet since coming home so all we really have is rice..." He moved to throw the blanket off himself and pull his legs back so he could stand, but felt a hand come down on one, making him pause in place. His right leg still hung off the edge of the couch, but he lifted it again slightly when he felt both of the Russian's hands come down on either side of his waist.
Viktor stared into those hazel eyes he adored, waiting a moment though, like the cogs in his mind were trying to turn. When he finally moved, he leaned forward, finding a kiss waiting for him when he arrived. He felt hands going over his shoulders to keep him close, but after a few seconds, Viktor could practically feel that he was going through the motions and didn't have his heart in it. Even as he found himself sitting upright again with his husband straddled over his lap, and his fingers teasing just under the edge of the man's shirt...
"...Viktor...?"
"...I'm...sorry... I just can't..."
The look on Yuri's face was a confused mess of disappointment and worry. He slouched a little, realizing there would be no romp still, but then raised his right hand and settled his palm against the Russian's chest, just over his heart, "You don't have to force yourself."
"...We haven't made love since we left Detroit...and I'm so hyperaware of it...because of how you pointed out that I neglected you in France..." The Russian sighed, lowering his face from the shame of it, "I don't want to do that again to you..."
"I'm happy you're thinking about it, but..." Yuri started, sliding his hand up from chest to chin, and lifting his husband's face, "It's obvious that you're making yourself go through the motions even though you have no interest right now. I'd rather wait than feel like you're only doing this for my sake. It's no fun for me if you're not getting anything out of it, too."
Viktor lifted his eyes, his brow furrowed in worry, then dropped his head back against the couch and slid down a few inches, "...This is so bad..." He whined, bringing his hands up to ruffle his hair in frustration, "Everything inside my skull is just messing me up so much and I hate it."
"Don't stress over it." Yuri reassured, sliding back off the man's knees and rising to stand, reaching his hands down in offering, "Back in France, I didn't actually know why your ample libido disappeared. Right now, I know exactly why, so I understand it's not because of me."
Still, the Russian just whined even louder that time, even as he took those offered hands and let Yuri pull him up to his feet.
"Let's just go out to dinner for now." The younger man suggested instead, pulling his clothing back into place again as he stepped out from the small space between couch and coffee table, "We'll swing by the grocery store on the way back to buy the kids more food, since I had to throw most of it away earlier. Going out and getting some fresh air will do you some good."
Viktor grumbled quietly under his breath, but then nodded, "...Okay...let me just...fix myself up a little. I'm sure I look a bit rough around the edges. I should at least try to look presentable, rather than homeless."
.
With a car that was designed to be driven on the right side of the road, it took some getting used to to drive on the left instead, as was the case in Japan. But, with his International Driving permit, Viktor adapted as well as anyone could, and was extra careful now that he had his own little car back.
They pulled into the small parking lot of a nondescript brown and tan building just off the edge of the Matsuura river, a block or so down the road from YuTopia Katsuki. The Dondon-tei Hasetsu. It was a place they'd been to on a number of occasions, so it wasn't awkward to go inside, and were greeted like familiar faces rather than local celebrities. Staff treaded carefully, however, guiding them over to their usual seat in the corner with the window that overlooked the river. They took off their coats and hung them on the back of their chairs before sitting down.
[We'll just get the squid, pork, and chicken teppanyaki, like always.] Yuri said, seeing the hostess scamper off , and turned his attention across the table to his partner, "I asked for the usual, if that's okay."
"Mh."
He reached one hand across and set it over Viktor's, "You want to go to YuTopia after? I can go to the store on my own if you'd rather just soak in the onsen for a while."
Viktor turned his head from the window and gave the man a look, like he thought Yuri was crazy for suggesting anything like what he just had, "I go where you go. I'm not letting you out of my sight."
The younger man quirked a brow, "Would you go to YuTopia even if I went?"
The Russian stared for a moment, but then lowered his face, giving a nervous and hesitant look as he raised it again, "I'd rather not talk to people today if I can help it. It was already enough of a relief that no one came banging on our door asking for interviews today." He admitted sullenly, leaning back momentarily as the hostess came back to turn on the teppanyaki grill embedded within the table, and started setting appetizer dishes all around the edges. The two skaters nodded their heads at her politely as she went back for the prepared raw meats, and Viktor glanced back at his partner as he reached for chop-sticks.
"Oh, they were trying." Yuri explained hesitantly, grabbing up his own chop-sticks from his side, and reaching for one small dish of pickled daikon, "I think I must've gotten some 30 emails today from different groups wanting to talk to you."
"...What did you say?" Viktor wondered anxiously, picking up a bit of agedashi tofu from a small white bowl.
"I just copied and pasted the same answer to all of them. 'Sorry, my husband isn't available for interviews right now. Please inquire again next week, once he's had a chance to rest. We thank you for our privacy at this time.'" Yuri answered. He chewed on the bit of crunchy morsel, then reached for the bowl of edamame, grabbing up one of the salty bean pods, "Most were fairly agreeable, but a handful of them wanted to schedule appointments next week, like your grief period was on a schedule and you'd be over it by 1pm on Monday or something."
"It may take until we get to Osaka before I start to feel like myself again." The Russian admitted sullenly, "Even though I'll still be aware of how I should be in Moscow, it'll feel enough like last year that it won't matter. I can just try to convince myself that Russian Nationals aren't being held at the same time, and I wouldn't be expected to skate at your event anyway, so just being there as a coach would feel like it always has."
"Do you want to skate one of our pair Exhibitions again?" Yuri wondered, "Maybe we'll reprise 'The Ghost.' People really liked that one."
"I guess we could."
"...Will you even be up for skating by then?" Yuri asked, leaning back again as the plates of thinly sliced meat and cabbage, along with their small dipping-sauce dishes, were set down. He grabbed a few pieces of each and arranged them on the grill, listening to them sizzle for a moment before continuing, "I don't want to make you feel like you have to just because you're there. I kind of did it to you last year since you had your 'Aria' outfit with you anyway...but I'm sure everyone would understand if you didn't feel like it so soon after all this stuff with the RSF happened."
"It's too soon for me to know, my love." The Russian answered simply, arranging his own assortment on the grill as well, mostly the chicken at that moment, "We can take our outfits and play it by ear. You already had a solo Exhibition planned for Nationals, though. I don't want you to think you have to change all your plans just because I'm there unexpectedly."
"It's not like I'll never have another opportunity to skate the solo show." Yuri pointed out, flipping over his first round to cook on the opposite side, "I take a lot of pride in doing our duets. Skating on the same ice as you was always something I dreamed about...so how much better is it that I actually get to skate with you rather than just in the same building? All of our fans love it, too. I don't think they'd turn down an opportunity to see you skate."
"Maybe."
The younger man looked on, seeing how Viktor's eyes stayed low, watching the meat on the grill even as they spoke. It took until Viktor had slowly nibbled on the chicken he'd grilled before another word was spoken though.
"Would they even let me?" He asked quietly, setting down some squid next, "Since the RSF cut me off, I'm technically not part of the ISU anymore either. I've never heard of a non-member being allowed on the ice."
"Nikki got to be part of Yurio's last Exhibition."
"She wasn't skating."
"So I'll call and ask tomorrow." Yuri offered, "No concrete plans, just...to see if they'd be okay with it, given the circumstances. I can't imagine they'd say no to Viktor freaking Nikiforov." He mused, his tone reassuring, "The JSF jumped on the opportunity last year, even though they had to set your show up completely from scratch. Normally they require everything be turned in way in advance. Heck, we were lucky even I got to skate last year, since we should've had my music and application in before the Final in Barcelona ever even started."
Viktor nodded, his shoulders sinking a little bit despite his partner's attempt at being positive. He tried to reach for the squid slices to flip them over, but found his hand starting to shake as he moved it, and pulled it back suddenly, dropping the chop-sticks before he could set them down properly; one fell to the floor. He could feel the twinge at the back of his throat, and he knew what was coming, "I...I guess. You kn-know what's...best..." He choked, bringing the back of his wrist to just under his nose as he leaned back again.
Oh crap...what'd I say!? Yuri wondered, panicking at the sight of his husband starting to crack again. He quickly moved to salvage the squid before it could burn, flipping them over and then hurriedly hopping out of his chair to kneel down next to the man, pulling him down to his shoulder as those tears started falling, "Shh...Viktor, it's okay. I'm sorry. I didn't...mean it..."
"Your people treat me better than my own do..." Viktor lamented, desperately trying to keep his sobbing quiet, "I worked so hard to win for Russia and they just threw me under a bus...and I don't...even think they're...saying the whole truth about why."
"You said they were offended by your NHK Exhibition..." The younger figure started, "It's obvious that the RSF feels the same way about us that your father did before. Maybe we were just lucky to get away with our pair skates for as long as we did, because of how good you are."
"...Appar-rently...not g-good...enough...anym-more..."
"Viktor...!" Yuri pulled back, insisting he be able to look into his husband's eyes, "You're still a living legend in every skater's eyes. The RSF just shot their gift-horse in the mouth. We'll..." His words drifted, unsure if anything else he might say would be taken for how he meant it or if it would feel like salt in the wound. He closed his eyes quickly and shook his head, trying to regain his focus, "I already promised you 5 World Championship wins. Viktor...I promise...I'll win Gold at the Olympics, too, and every International event from now on. No other Russian will ever take the top of the podium again so long as I'm there. That can be our revenge."
Darkened slate eyes glanced up, but even in the messy state Viktor was in, his cheeks gained something of a pink hue to hear those words. It hurt for him to smile, but he managed, "...I...th-think I just...fell in love with you again..."
.
The trip to the grocery store afterward was a lot calmer. With only a few things to grab, Viktor tried to make himself useful by carrying the basket on his left arm while Yuri looked around picking things. His right arm and hand stayed firmly attached to Yuri's, clamped down into the man's coat pocket like a bear-trap that wouldn't open again. Yuri didn't mind though. He'd rather the Russian follow him like a sad and confused duckling than sit at home alone with nothing but the dogs and his darkened thoughts to keep him company.
"It's a shame it's still the dead-middle of winter," Yuri commented idly as they walked down the pet food aisle, and he grabbed up their last two items; puppy and adult dog food. He let go of the Russian's hand so he could carry a bag under each arm, "It would've been nice to take some time on the beach and go running around in the sur-" He paused mid-word, seeing Viktor looking at him oddly, like he was half-angry about something, "...What's wrong?"
The silver Russian held up his now-unheld hand, moving his fingers a little for wordless emphasis.
"Oh!" Yuri realized abruptly, "Ahh..." He tried to figure out a way of being able to carry both bags of dog food under one arm, but they were too heavy and he dropped one. He quickly picked it up again and looked around nervously, "Shimatta..."
"Just put the smaller one under my other arm." Viktor suggested, opening the space up a little to make room.
Yuri did as told, sliding the puppy food bag in and letting the man clamp his arm down around it, even though it made the burden on that arm twice as heavy now with the basket held in the same hand just below. But, Viktor seemed happy either way, able to re-take the hand he'd been holding a moment before, letting it warm back up in the coat pocket.
Getting to the cashier at the front and paying was slightly challenging though. Even with his right hand free, trying to open his wallet and get his bank card out one-handed was harder than he thought it would be. Eventually he managed though, and they got their things to the car without much more trouble after that.
And, of course, the two dogs were more than happy to see them when they got back home, each one rushing to the front door when they heard the lock being turned. Jiro struggled slightly with the hardwood floor, sliding around with his paws going out from under him, but was too excited to be frustrated. Yuri picked him up and made his way over to the livingroom, setting the pup down on the couch and waggling a finger at the small Akita, "Jiro, stay. I don't want to be tripping all over you while carrying things into the house."
"Yawr!"
"Good boy."
Tiny black eyes watched excitedly as that small, curly tail wagged, watching as the two humans brought things in from the snowy outdoors. Once everything was in, sorted, stowed, and settled, the two dogs' dinners were set down, and Jiro plopped down from the couch to run over to his own. Yuri pat the puppy's back and then stood back upright again, finding Viktor looking at his phone strangely, "...What's with the look?"
"...I...have a message." The Russian explained flatly, "...From the RSF."
"Eh?" The younger figure hopped over quickly, but was greeted with the usual Cyrillic on his husband's screen, "Listen?"
Reluctantly, Viktor lifted the phone to his ear and listened to the recording. The expression on his face changed several times, from irritation to frustration, then to confused anxiety. By the time it ended, Viktor looked shocked and unsure of things.
"Well?" Yuri wondered nervously, "What did they say?"
"...I never asked Yakov...or told the RSF myself...to undo the ban on family members trying to contact me through them." Viktor answered slowly, "But they decided to let one try anyway."
"Who?"
"My papa." He explained, "They didn't say what he wants, but they left his phone number so I can call him back if I want."
Confused as he was, Yuri had no words. Plenty were going through his mind though.
The RSF would have no clue that Viktor and his father patched things up at NHK. As far as they're concerned, things are just as bad now as they always were, and Viktor would have no reason to want to be contacted by him. For them to pass along this message despite the ban...it's like they're actively trying to punish him now.
The thought just made Yuri angry.
"I'm going to call him." Viktor said, drawing his husband out of his sudden frustration.
"Are...are you sure you want to? What if he..."
"Things are okay now, aren't they?" The Russian went on, looking at his phone again, and the transcribed numbers that appeared listed in the voice-to-text version of the message, "I mean, if not to talk about what happened, why else would papa call me?"
"How would he even know about it though? If the RSF made such a tiny foot-note about it on their own website, why would anyone else even report on it? Your father doesn't even get cell-service where he lives...I didn't see a computer there either. He would've had to read about it in a newspaper and I don't know that anyo-"
"Maybe they did." Viktor cut him off, looking slightly desperate for his hopes to be true, "Maybe the newspaper he reads did an article about how I was cut from the team because they're angry about it, like all my other Russian fans are."
"...Maybe... I'm still nervous about you talking to him though... We have no idea what he wants to say. You guys have had one conversation that didn't end in tears."
"And it was the most recent one we had. The one you started. I...I want to talk to him..."
Yuri couldn't hide his anxious sentiment, since it was as plain on his face as anything else. He drew a nervous breath and swallowed, but then nodded, "Well, let's call then. Put him on speaker so I can hear him, too."
"You don't understand Russian though...what would be the point?"
"So I can hear the tone in his voice." He explained, "So I can be sure he's not trying to talk bad to you. He doesn't even need to know I'm listening."
"I think he would anticipate it."
"Then maybe he'll be better behaved to think I'm here even if I don't say anything."
"...Okay..." Viktor nodded, reaching to take his husband's hand again, and lead him around to the couch. They both sat down, and he placed the phone on the coffee table, pulling the stand closer so he wouldn't have to raise his voice just to be heard. With a nervous breath, he clicked the linked digits, seeing the pop-up message to confirm that he wanted to dial out to that number. One last look to Yuri, getting a hesitant nod, and Viktor clicked 'да.'
The dial-tone filled the room.