CHAPTER THREE HUNDRED SIXTY SIX

Yurio stood idly by as the second skater finished up his routine and headed towards the kiss and cry. His eyes wandered around the arena though, entirely unconcerned with what the score would be. Nearby, Yakov and Lilia were waiting for their athlete to take the ice, but even they were distracted by the way the crowd was behaving. Eyes were raised on both the score-banners, and those that cheered for Viktor, despite the fact that he wasn't even there.

[The score for Sergei Belitrov...61.43.]

Standing just within the curtain separating rink-side from the prep area under the stands, Nikki glanced up, listening to the clapping from the scattered audience. The numbers on the board above the ice were listed numerically, "...Is it always like this?" She wondered to no one in particular.

Yurio turned his head back though, "Like what?"

She blinked and looked over at him, "Maybe I'm used to the scores I saw in Detroit already...but that seemed really low."

"Oh...yeah." He nodded, looking over to where the other skater, happy enough with the outcome, left the kiss and cry with his coach, "Only the top 6 in each group make it to the Grand Prix Final. Competitions like this though...everyone in a given country can compete, so you'll see a range of scores because it's a mix of experienced people and new, good and bad."

[Next to take the ice, hailing from St. Petersburg...Yuri Plisetsky.]

The teen stepped forward, pulling off the rubber guards as he set one black blade to the ice at a time. His jacket slid off his arms as fluidly as the rest of him slid into the rink, spurred on by the louder cheering of what few people had turned up.

The RSF rented out space in this giant-ass arena, expecting it to sell out, or come close to it...but other than me and a tiny handful of others in the Men's, none of these competitors have ever even skated in the Grand Prix Series, never mind a higher level competition. I really wouldn't be surprised if any of these people left after I'm done.

He rounded back towards the rink wall where Yakov and Lilia were waiting, listening to a few words but not really paying attention to them.

If this is the kind of vacuum Viktor's absence caused...then I need to do more to restore peoples' faith in Russian figure skating. This is just insulting. I won Gold at my first GP Final, and I was only 15 then, and I still couldn't fill half the arena.

"Yuri-" Yakov grumbled, seeing that vacant, introspective look on the skater's face, but at least was satisfied to see those emerald eyes come up, "Don't let the fans' reaction to Viktor's situation discourage you. This is a punishment for the paper-pushers who made a bad decision, not for the other athletes."

"I know."

"You'll get your own loyal fan following in time. This is only your second year in Seniors." He went on, "It wasn't apparent how popular Viktor had gotten until he was in his 20s. Keep on breaking records and winning Gold, and the audience will turn up in time. Who knows how many people are watching from home instead anyway? Could be all the people who chose not to turn up here instead."

"Whether they're watching or not won't change that I'm going to win Gold here." Yurio shrugged, looking back over his shoulder, "And with that Gold, I'll secure my place at the next 3 events. This is no different than that tiny event I went to last year, to kill time between Rostelecom and the Final."

He was sure there would be something else from Yakov, but no words came, and just as he turned his head to wonder why, he spotted the wave of silver hair coming over the rink-wall at him.

Nikki hinged over it by her waist, hands reaching to grab him and pull him into a quick hug, "We'll be cheering for you, Yuri! I'll make enough noise to cover for the people who didn't come!"

"You're just going to make my fanclub freak out again."

She just gave a smirk up at him where she'd been hanging around the middle of his chest, "Isn't that the point?"

"Okay that's enough." Mikhail suddenly interrupted, picking his daughter up with a hand under each armpit to pull her back, though she flailed in surprise, "He's your brother, not your boyfriend, so quit tormenting his fangirls."

"But daaaaaaad!" She whined, standing normally again, though wiggling like a worm to try and get free, "It's funny!"

Mikhail just made a face and looked to the skater, using one hand to shoo him off, "Go on and do the thing. No slacking off just cuz you know you're the best here, either."

"No..." Yurio answered, oddly, making the older man quirk a brow, "She's right. It is funny."

Yakov just shook his head as Mikahil deadpanned, and the skater bowed deeply as he slid backward from the wall, making his dramatic escape before anyone could contest the point. Nikki was just giving an immature laugh at her father's expense.

From the stands, Konstantin had been quietly watching the interaction. Though he couldn't hear what they'd been saying, what he saw was giving him a weird sense of déjà vu.

She looks just like Tat...and the more I watch her, the more I see that she acts like her, too. Especially at that age...Tat and Mik were little Hellions.

The bear managed a wry smile at that idea.

Maybe this is more comeuppance at Mik's expense...having to be a father for two kids who aren't supposed to be that close, but act like it anyway just to torment those around them. Mik is going to get just a taste of the shit him and Tat put me through back then, before the Elders set things straight...or tried to, anyway.

Yurio had already found his place in the center of the rink, and the music started half a moment after those slate eyes found him.

['Inner Universe' - Origa]

Even as the blonde began his dance, Kon couldn't help but envision that golden hair being silver instead. In his mind's eye, Yurio became Viktor for a few moments, gliding around the ice with a skill that seemed supernatural. But the longer Kon watched, the more that long hair served to pull him from the memory of his son, whose long hair he'd never been acquainted with, and the silver-haired Yurio gradually morphed into that other long-haired youth...the one that had tortured him in his own teenaged years.

He blinked and shook his head lightly, moving his eyes back to rink-side, where Mikhail leaned against the wall with one arm casually leaning over one of Nikki's shoulders, the both of them watching Yurio put on his show. That steely-eyed stare seemed to be enough to send a tingle down Mikhail's spine, and he looked right back at him for a moment, only to give a nod and return to watching the ice.

He's trying to keep those two apart, but that boy isn't related by blood, and no matter how many times Mik says those kids are siblings, they're not.

Eyes went back to Yurio then, and Kon drew a sigh of a breath, slouching slightly in his many seats.

At his age, in my time, that boy would've already been married, or arranged to be really soon. He's kind of lucky that he doesn't have to worry about that kind of thing, and can focus on what he wants to do instead of what others say he has to do. The way his grandfather teased him about being single though...

The mass of fangirls on the opposite side of the arena were fawning over every dashing move, and Kon could see the hearts in their eyes even from his distance.

...It's not like he lacks for opportunities. What's he waiting for?

Yurio vaulted through his program's most difficult move; the quad Flip he'd teased Viktor about. He stumbled the landing, but was back onto his feet fluidly, carrying on as though the frost on his backside wasn't there to remind him of his folly. His fans cheered for him anyway though.

Viktoria looked up from her phone briefly, having taken over the task of recording the program in her sister's absence. She glanced aside towards the bear, seeing the contemplative look on his face, and a big hand that came up to scratch at his scraggly short-cut beard.

...I wonder what he's thinking about...?

.

"Oh wow, it looks like Yurio absolutely dominated the Short Program." Yuri commented, looking at his phone while Viktor was busy tying the laces on his skates next to him, "He scored 109.16...he's practically 20 points ahead of the next best skater."

"Georgi?"

"Yeah."

"They need some new blood out there besides Yurio." Viktor mused, going back to his laces and pulling the last loops tight before pulling the teal runner-pants overtop.

"Well, your prediction came true too about the fans holding up banners of your score from yesterday." Yuri added, finding a clear picture and turning his phone around to show it, "See?"

"And yours."

Yuri crept up behind his phone and looked over the top of it towards his partner's gaze, only to spot those blue eyes turning up towards him suddenly. He blinked in surprise, but then lowered the phone to his lap as he turned it off and put it away again, "Yeah, but having my name on the banner is just to put salt in the RSF's wounds...your name is the one that matters out there, since you should technically be there."

"But it goes to show that not all people in Russia think like the RSF upper management does." Viktor pointed out, reaching his arms forward suddenly to hook around his husband's knees, pulling those legs up and turning Yuri towards him as he settled them over his thighs. He twisted in his own seat slightly to more easily face the younger man, and leaned forward to nose him fondly, "And the overwhelming majority of my fans' messages on Instagram have always been positive about you. I actually caught heat that one time last year, after Four Continents, when I posted the two different pictures of us with all the people who met us at Incheon."

"Oh, the one of us kissing and the one right before?" Yuri wondered, his cheeks flushing at the memory of it, though also partly at the fact that Viktor's nuzzling had gone down to his neck, finding that favorite spot of his just under one ear, "Seems like a lifetime ago already..." He said, his voice quieter then, letting himself have that moment to just enjoy the feeling of lips on his skin. He closed his eyes to savor each kiss and nibble, and brought his hand up to hold lightly to the Russian's wrist as he felt those fingers come around the other side of his neck. It eventually slid down the front of his chest though, and up the side of his thigh, siding under the edge of the silver-trimmed costume panel that hung outside of his track-suit. When that hand groped the side of one cheek, even through those many layers, Yuri couldn't help but laugh, and sat up a bit straighter, pulling himself out of his husband's kissing-range, "Just one year ago, I was still getting used to the idea of being intimate with you...now it's something I can't go a single day without."

"I did warn you that you'd be begging for it one day." Viktor laughed, keeping his hand firmly clasped around that curve of backside, "Though I suppose I beg for it, too."

"You get really cranky when you don't get it when you want it." Yuri pointed out, leaning to the side to rest his arm against the back of a chair, even as he raised his other arm forward to weave his fingers through silver hair, and pulled gently to make Viktor come closer again, and returned the soft nuzzling of noses, "I sometimes wonder how you survived those 9 months before we actually started dating, even though we'd exchanged rings before that..."

"It had been a lot longer than just those 9 months since I'd last been with anyone." The Russian explained quietly, letting Yuri have his turn with the teasing, "...But the year that I had to wait, after falling for you in the first place, was indeed a torture. You were quite the flirt when you were drunk."

"You didn't consider getting me drunk again?"

"I did, believe me I did...but you never drank that much, even when I did." Viktor sighed dramatically, pulling his hand back to cross his elbows over his husband's thighs, relaxing against them as Yuri continued that light touch against his skin, "And I wanted you to flirt with me when you were sober anyway. It would've felt more genuine then."

"Like right now?"

The Russian closed his eyes, "Mhmm..." He felt where Yuri put their brows together for a moment, and his patience was rewarded with a kiss...two of them. He cracked his eyes open again when he felt the younger man pulling away a little.

"I do enjoy remembering that I'm doing it." Yuri pointed out, then nearing again to find a third kiss, and staying there for a moment in its warmth. He stayed close even as he pulled back, sliding both of his arms forward to rest them loosely over his husband's shoulders, "I'd kiss you all the time if I could."

"You should anyway. Nothing it stopping you." Viktor teased, "Not me, anyway."

"Well...I still have to breathe, eat, sleep...skate..." Yuri explained, feeling nose-tip and brow brushing across the man's soft skin as he lowered his face down to press against the side of his neck instead, and relaxing there, "I feel a lot better about the Free Program now... I didn't even realize how bad I'd gotten before. I just want to have fun tonight."

"You do whatever you want, Yuri." The silver legend said quietly, unfolding his left arm to cup his hand around his husband's side, returning the hug as well he could given how he was seated at that moment, "Don't stress over anything. You're good enough for the podium even without needing to try. By the end of the Men's event, we'll be collecting our Gold and Silver, and we can spend the rest of the night relaxing."

"You're not going to take it easy yourself?"

"Me? No way. I have to defend your honor." Viktor laughed, eyes cracked open enough to scan the prep area for Asahi, but not seeing him for the moment, "My nemesis is going up dead last, so I have to be sure to give myself enough of a lead that there's no chance he can catch up. I only scored barely over him in the Short Program."

"Yeah but you did that on purpose."

"Does he have your same kind of stamina?" Viktor wondered then, "To be able to put harder jumps into the second half?"

"The same stamina?" Yuri echoed, "Not that I remember. He actually kind of reminds me of Otabek, in a way...really strong Short Program, but his Free is a bit weak. At least, that's how he used to be...but he never scored over 100 in the SP back then either. Maybe tonight will be different."

"All the more reason to push myself." The silver legend nudged his partner's face up from his neck to get a fourth kiss, "Besides, while my Short Program was done to a song of your choice, my Free is an entirely different beast now. It speaks my heart. It may never get the scores that 'Evoke' did, but the first time I skated it, I skated it with you...and I always imagine you're on the ice with me at the end. That alone means I can't slack off."

"I don't think it's humanly possible for you to slack off out there."

"Probably not." He smiled.

"Thank you, though..." Yuri added, resting his head back down to the man's shoulder, and feeling the second hand come around his side, both going around his back to hug him closer, "I actually really like that you're using your skating to prove your point. ...I remember how much Phichit-kun's show moved you at NHK...maybe yours will move Asahi the same way. It has a good message. Maybe he'll pick up on it."

"If he even shows up in time to watch it." Viktor said, though shrugging a little, "He'll probably see yours since you're close to the end, but mine's close enough to the middle that he may just miss it."

"I hope he doesn't. I want him to see it." Yuri explained, lifting his head then and sitting up a bit more normally, pulling his arms back to let his fingers cling loosely to the front of his husband's white Olympic jacket, sliding one down the center of the lettering over his chest. He kept his eyes down for a moment, lifting them to look straight into those blue irises before him, "I want him to watch you, and see how wrong he was. Saying how you're only using me, or that you don't really care... That you preyed on me like the fact that I'm a fan of yours means I can't be rational around you, or that I'd let you do whatever you wanted to me, even if I didn't actually want to..."

"He came dangerously close to saying something that I would've popped him in the mouth for, if I'd been there."

Yuri nodded hesitantly, "I know... Me too... I'm glad he didn't say it, in the end..."

The relative quiet of the arena was broken then, with the music of the Ladies' medaling ceremony beginning, and the audience starting to cheer again. The duo lifted their heads to hear it, then looked back at one another.

"That's it. Let's go watch." Yuri suggested, trying to get off topic at that point, "I don't want to spend all night thinking about him. You worked too hard for me to just let him get the better of me anyway."

"You deserve to enjoy yourself anyway." Viktor pointed out, pulling his hands back to pat his husband's legs and feel them getting pulled off of his own, and they rose up to standing together, "There's only a few things I enjoy more than watching you having fun on the ice."

"Yeah?"

"Well sure...watching you having fun on me is pretty great." The Russian laughed, earning a brand new flush on his partner's cheeks. He held an elbow up between them, and waited for Yuri to take it before starting to walk towards rink-side.

"For a minute there, I thought you were going to say something about watching me skate naked, but then I remembered that I haven't actually done that yet."

"Yet."

That just made Yuri look down and smile nervously, fully embarrassed at the idea, "...Yet."

"Wow~!"