CHAPTER THREE HUNDRED FIFTY FOUR

The interview was both swift and slow at the same time. Viktor had heard all the same questions before, so he tuned out about half-way through, knowing he'd probably hear them all again at the post-skate technical panel anyway. He tuned back in only after he heard Asahi's name.

"...Well, it's been a really long time..." Yuri was trying to explain, "He moved up to Seniors before I did, and then I transferred to a rink in Detroit when I moved up as well. We only really saw each other at competitions after that. Last time I ran into him was at Nationals 2 years ago, but that was a bad season for me, so I don't remember much about it. I had a lot going on at the time, and after I decided to move back home to Hasetsu, it was only a matter of weeks before Viktor showed up to be my coach and get me back in the saddle. I was focused on my training after that. I mean, how many people get the opportunity to train under Viktor Nikiforov, right?" He smiled, looking up to his partner and giving the man's hand a gentle squeeze where he held it.

"So you're not aware of the things that happened to Saito-kun during those 2 years?"

"Ahhh...no. I'm sorry. After my appalling 11th place ranking that year, I kind of stayed off of social media for a while. I didn't want to know what people were saying about me. It was bad enough when people were asking me to my face if I was ill or injured when it was just a mental weakness." Yuri said, looking nervous, "The way you guys are talking about it though, it sounds like something bad happened..."

Reporters glanced between themselves, looks of confusion on their faces.

That just made Yuri feel worse, "...What's going on…? Can we say this off camera…?"

There seemed to be a unique, unspoken understanding in the group, and cameramen lowered their equipment. Newscasters were standing about more casually then, but it was Morooka who stepped in, speaking to the pair quietly.

"Nikiforov-kun..." He started, "...There was a really bad accident that Saito-kun was in after that All Japan event. One of his teammates was killed. Until this season, he was completely off the radar."

"...Killed…?" Yuri echoed, looking nervous, "I had no idea… Is that why he was gone? Was he hurt?"

"He actually didn't speak a word of it to anyone until just earlier when we did his post-skate interview." Morooka answered, "He said that he had only suffered minor injuries. We didn't have time to ask anything else. His coach cut the interview short after that."

"...Wow..." Yuri lowered his head, "I'd heard that he lost someone, but even then, people were thinking it was a family member, not a fellow skater." He turned his eyes back up to his spouse, "I guess that partly explains why he's acting so strange. If I went through something like that, I don't know that I'd ever be able to return to skating. It'd just bring back too many bad memories."

"Don't let his situation get to you." Viktor advised, "It's not your burden to bear."

"I know… I just feel like we could've been nicer to him. It was brave of him to come back to competition at all...he doesn't need us making it worse."

"He skated well enough. I'm guessing he's over it."

Yuri just made a face at that. Morooka seemed to feel a change in the temperature of the conversation, and quietly bowed out to give the pair space. Yuri's eyes followed the newscaster until the man was out of earshot, but then turned back to Viktor, "Even you skated at above-average levels when you were in a bad place. That SP was a new personal best for Asahi-kun. It's easily 30 points higher than anything I remember him getting."

"If you're trying to get me to change my mind about speaking to him, I'm not budging." The Russian said firmly, "That guy didn't talk to anyone about the accident himself and it's not your responsibility or place to pull it out of him."

"...I know..."

"Besides," Viktor went on, starting to walk back the way they'd come, and coaxed his husband along where he still held the man's hand between them, "If he wanted to talk to you about it, he would've reached out. It's not like you're hard to track down."

"...I guess so..."

An awkward silence sprouted, leaving only the ambient noise of the arena, the music from the rink, and the hollow thumps of their blade guards to echo quietly around them. Yuri slowed his pace as they made their way back towards the doors to the noisier prep area, and stopped entirely just before them, leaving Viktor to turn and look back in confusion.

"...What's wrong?"

Yuri remained quiet, keeping his eyes down for a moment in thought. When his eyes came back up again, he glanced around the wide hall, seeing only a small handful of event staffers at a different set of doors, but otherwise the area was quiet and empty; perfect for interviews, and other things. Yuri started stepping backwards, pulling the silver legend around the corner from the doors they'd been standing in front of.

Viktor went along with it, entirely unsure what was going through his husband's brain, but then Yuri abruptly stopped. Quick as lightning, Yuri turned to face him, slipped his left hand behind his neck and head, and pulled him down into a kiss before he had a chance to even ask what was going on. He felt his spouse's other hand sneak around his waist, and one boot nudged between both of his own. It took a moment to process the surprise, barely having enough time to put his own hands on his husband's waist before Yuri had already pulled back again. He didn't go far though.

"...Y-Yuri…?"

"I'm being horrible to you and I don't even notice until after." He explained, drawing in closer, left hand sliding down the side of the Russian's neck and down to settle on his chest instead, "You asked if I was forgetting something and it took me so long to realize you meant the kisses I denied you earlier...the ones I always give you before a program, even after one… I'm not even sure why or how I didn't kiss you after you proposed to me in front of everyone. It just...kind of hit me that I didn't. Here I am, saying I wish you'd never take your hands off me, and I can't even be bothered to give you the same courtesy."

"It's because of Saito." Viktor explained, leaning down a little bit to press their brows together, "You've avoided kissing me when he's around."

"...Oh..." Yuri answered, looking away slightly in shame, "...I guess I just feel bad. When he asked yesterday if I'm gay now because I'm with you, I only thought he meant me...it never occurred to me that he meant with regard to himself. All those years we trained together, I had no idea that he thought of me as anything but a friend. I don't want to rub salt in the wound. He has enough of his own worries to deal with, trying to get that Olympic jacket...I didn't want to be a source of trouble, too."

Viktor sighed a little, "So you'd rather punish me than him."

"No! No no no!" Yuri panicked, both hands going up to cup around the back of the man's neck, "I didn't mean that at all! Please don't think like that!"

"It's a habit you may never shake...I just don't want to admit I need to get used to it." The Russian explained, "I'm extremely protective over you."

"I'm the same for you… I just..."

"...You don't like hurting people. I get it." Viktor said quietly, pulling his partner closer where he still had his hands on the man's hips, "But Saito needs to get over you. He never made a move before...he was so secretive about it that you didn't even know… He has no right to make you feel bad for finding someone else."

"...I just don't want to do to him what Yuko-chan and Nishigori did to me. Seeing the person I want being intimate with someone else is really painful. I had to move to the other side of the planet to stop from being hurt all the time...and even after 5 years, and coming home...I still had feelings for her. It took you for me to finally move on...and I can't tell you how liberating that feels, even to this day. I just can't believe, after all these years, he never got together with someone else." Yuri explained, left thumb stroking gently against his husband's cheek, "I just don't want to think I'd be responsible for costing him his chance at the Olympics because I dug a knife so deep into his heart that he couldn't skate..."

"He has to manage those feelings on his own. You can't feel responsible for him. It's not your fault." Viktor attempted, "Yuri, my love...you have to let go of this. Please. Don't make me beg..."

The younger man nodded, holding still then for a moment. He felt the Russian's cheek rub gently against the side of his brow, but he pulled back then, abruptly reaching for the man's jacket zipper and pulling it down, revealing the costume hidden beneath it. Hands went within the opening of the coat, pressing palms to each side of the silver legend's chest, his lips moving down from neck to collar-bone, kissing where the two halves met in center, and then down again to kiss the bare skin over Viktor's heart.

The Russian was confused still, enough so that he wasn't sure if he was allowed to enjoy what was happening. He could feel his husband's warm breaths passing over his cool skin, as Yuri stayed put where his nose and lips were lightly smooshed against his chest. The hands that were on his chest moved around his sides, under his arms, and flattened against his upper back, then slid lower, the right going so far down as to grab at one cheek, even if only lightly. Even Viktor's face was giving off a slight rosé hue when he felt the light squeeze, seeing just enough past his husband's hair to see Yuri's face flushing as well, but then those hazel eyes turned up again, and Viktor was entranced.

The leg that Yuri had put between his own pressed in closer, and Viktor hugged the man tighter, tilting his head to lean in for a kiss. He pulled his left hand off Yuri's waist to grasp gently behind the younger figure's head, fingers combing through gelled hair, the right sliding down the man's thigh to pull that leg up against himself.

It was all getting rather heated in a hurry, but neither seemed to care that much. It was only when they could feel the vibration of the audience's cheering that either seemed willing to pay attention to the world around them again. Viktor managed one last light nibble and suck on his husband's tongue before he opened his eyes again and hesitated to continue.

Yuri was trying to catch his breath, but he noticed just then that Viktor had hoisted him slightly up off the ground, wedging a leg up against him so high that he was standing on the rubber bars over his toe-picks. His cheeks were hotly pink, and he heaved a few puffs of air, pulling both hands up to his husband's chest and slid his fingers under the edge of the fabric, "...Haah...I wish you'd already skated, or were going up closer to the end. ...I want you so bad right now…"

"The feeling is mutual..."

"It's nearly your turn. Maybe after."

Another long kiss followed that, but Viktor had to relent, letting his husband down from where he'd perched on the top of his thigh, "I'll hold you to that. You still owe me 13 kisses."

"You were keeping track…?"

"It's a rough estimate."

Yuri smiled at that, rolling up onto his toe-guard again to find the man's lips, "Now it's 12."

Viktor gave a devious look, reaching his arm around the man's back in a gesture to get back to the rink, but delighted in the sudden yip he'd gotten as he gave his spouse's butt a squeeze as well, "I could never get tired of your surprised squeaks."

"Will you still be all grabby-hands with me when I'm old and everything sags to my knees?" Yuri teased, pushing the door open with a nudge of one skate.

"Will you still play with my hair when it's all fallen out?"

"You're not going bald!"

"And you'll never sag."

"Ohmygod..." Yuri stammered, half-laughing even then, only to shriek as he felt the Russian suddenly lifting him up entirely again. He quickly groped for something to hang onto, arms going over his husband's shoulders as his legs were pulled around Viktor's waist, hands clasping under his backside to form a makeshift seat so he wouldn't slide down. Yuri found his bearings and blinked down at the silver hair, and saw those blue eyes turn up towards him mischievously, "Viktor…!"

"Yes, my love?" He answered, batting those eyes dramatically, his frame leaning back for balance.

"...N-nothing..." Yuri balked, holding tight, but then twisting in place to point the way to the prep area, "Let's go!"

Dutiful steed as he now was, Viktor started stepping forward, relishing at the sound of his husband's laughing.

.

[Next on the ice...hailing from the far west of Russia, but now making his home in Hasetsu, Saga Prefecture, Kyushu...skating at his first competition as the newest member of the Japanese Skating Federation...Nikiforov Viktor-san!]

The audience was roaring with a thunder of applause, and Viktor slid across the ice with both arms up and out to the side. He made a wide arc before making his way back towards the rink wall, and took one last sip from their shared water bottle. He set it down soon after, lifting his head to the noise all around, "I really need to work on my Japanese now. I can't even brag about what they said about me."

"Your head would get too big to skate if you knew." Yuri mused, leaning over the wall to slide his hands around his husband's waist and pulled him closer, "Let's just say the JSF is really glad you're on our team now."

Viktor turned his gaze back towards his partner, resting his arms over the man's shoulders and giving something of a sultry look down at him, "What should I score today?"

"Ah, this again?"

"Should I try to break my record from Worlds?"

"You don't have to make us all look bad..." Yuri huffed, "This is just for fun, remember?"

"Give me a number, my love."

"Ah fine..." He sighed, defeated, lowering his head for a moment as he thought,"...113."

Viktor smiled, leaning down to get his pre-show kiss, "As you like."

"If you actually manage that...I'm going to start putting money down on your shows."

"We'd really be set then," The Russian laughed, starting to pull away, hands trailing down his partner's arms as he moved off. He gave one last devious smirk, and winked, "Hold my beer."

"Eh?"

He was off like a shot though, blades leaving elegant marks in the ice as he slid by. He huffed a quiet chuckle under his breath as he heard Yuri calling out that he didn't even have a beer to hold, but then found his way gracefully towards the starting marker over the JSF logo and set a toe-pick down to hold in place. He lifted his eyes into the audience though, carefully setting them towards his 'adversary.'

You'll never be good enough for my Yuri...and you'll never be better on the ice than me.

Asahi seemed to understand the unspoken challenge, lowering his face a little and returning the glare with one of his own.

Viktor huffed to himself, his music starting half a second later.