Chapter 9: The New Eros

Yuuri Katsuki woke far too early in the morning when his wake up call jarred him out of sleep. He jolted awake with a yelp, looking around in dismay to figure out what was happening. A moment later, his face calmed as he remembered.

Oh right. The flight back to Japan is an early one, so I scheduled the call so I wouldn't be late.

He sat up in bed, rubbing his eyes and making a face at the dryness and foul taste in his mouth.

Last night…the banquet…

He sucked in a breath, trying to remember, but nothing occurred to him at all.

I know I went. I didn't want to, but Coach Celestino dragged me there. I walked into the place and he told me there was pizza and champagne. I got some champagne…

…and…

He blinked in confusion at the blank spot after that, then his face colored and he grimaced.

I got wasted.

Damn it! I try not to do that, because I get a little crazy like Dad when I drink too much. Oh my god, I really hope I didn't do anything embarrassing! Shit! I hope I didn't embarrass myself in front of Victor!

Oh man, I have to get out of here!

He started towards the bathroom, then quickened his steps as a feeling of intense illness struck him. He barely reached the toilet in time to avoid throwing up on the floor, and his ears rang so loudly that he had to lie down for a few minutes on the cool, tile floor, breathing slowly.

Oh god, if I did something embarrassing, I'm never going to hear the end of it! Whatever it is will get posted on Instagram or Twitter or something, and everyone will know.

Yuuri sat up and put his face in his hands, bending forward to make the spots in front of his eyes clear.

I have to get out of here.

I just want to disappear.

I want to be invisible!

I want to be invisible!

Why can't I just disappear?

Tears of mingled humiliation and frustration flooded his eyes and he lurched to his feet, staggering out to the bedroom, where he grabbed his things and started to flee the room. A step later, his foot connected with the trash can by the bed and he tripped over it and fell to the carpeted floor.

"Ugh…"

Well, that just about defines this whole trip to Russia, he mused darkly, I fall on the ice and I even fall, just trying to fucking walk. I'm such a loser. Why did I ever think I belonged here? Why did I come here?

Why?

Tears ran down his face, but he slowly sat up and righted the offending trash bin and picking up the piece of paper that had fallen out of it. He frowned, squinting at the words, then a little sarcastic chuckle escaped him.

Right…that's written in Russian. That's why I couldn't read it. It was probably stuck in the trash can from the last person who was in here.

Without further thought, he crumpled up the paper and dropped it back into the bin. Then, he took a steadying breath and picked himself up.

I'm glad we're going. Maybe in Detroit, I can just focus on school now. I can finally graduate, even though it's a year late. I can…slow down and think about what happens now. Although, I have no idea what that will be.

He left the room, pulling his suitcase behind him, and took the elevator down to the lobby, where Celestino was quietly reading a magazine, waiting for him. He looked up as Yuuri approached and gave his Japanese student a kind smile.

"I was wondering if I should come looking for you," he chuckled, "Are you all right, Yuuri? You look pale."

"Oh, I'm fine," Yuuri lied, forcing a little smile, "I'm just anxious to go back to Detroit. I have a lot to do."

"Hmm, well, let's get going."

Yuuri took a couple of steps, then turned and stopped Celestino, making his coach give him a curious look.

"What is it? Is something wrong?" Celestino asked.

"No," Yuuri said softly, "I…just wanted to say…thank you for supporting me here. I really appreciate all of your advice."

Celestino broke into a wide smile.

"You are welcome, Yuuri," he said, nodding, "and when you qualify for the Grand Prix Final again next year, I will be here to support you then too."

"Y-yeah," Yuuri said, blushing, "Okay."

XXXXXXXXXX

The sound of his cell phone ringing brought Victor awake with a start, and he reached over and grabbed the device from the nightstand, while sitting up in the bed and smiling excitedly.

"Yuuri…?"

"VICTOR!" Yakov's voice thundered, making the Russian skater wince and hold the phone far away while the ear-splitting noise continued, "Where the hell are you? We have to go to the airport. The plane will leave soon. Get up and get your things together. We're waiting in the lobby."

"Is it really that late?" Victor asked, frowning as the call ended.

He looked at the clock and laughed sheepishly.

It's been a long time since I slept so late, but I had so much fun last night. The banquet was great, especially with Yuuri so drunk and dancing like that. Then, the stumbling upstairs and making out. God, that was amazing! I hope Yuuri didn't get sick from all of that champagne he drank. Maybe I'll go check on him, because I don't see a call from him yet on my phone.

Right, I'll stop by on the way to the lobby.

Victor climbed out of the bed, rubbing his eyes and breathing in deeply. He couldn't stop smiling, even doing ordinary things like brushing his teeth, shaving or combing his hair, because he could still smell Yuuri's sweet scent on his body and he still felt the warmth their kissing had left all over him.

Who would have thought that such an angel-faced Agape would harbor a wicked Eros like that? It was such a transformation! He was like another person entirely. And it makes his Agape side that much cuter to know that he hides his wicked Eros beneath it. Yuuri surprised me so much.

I'm regretting a little that I stopped him from going all the way with me.

When I was with other boys, I was never serious about sex. I liked all of the kissing and touching and bringing pleasure, but I never felt a desperate longing to have one of them inside me. Truthfully, I didn't know if I wanted to try anal sex, because I heard it was painful if you do it wrong, and when I'd go to bed with someone, I was usually drunk, so doing something like that could have ended up with one or both of us getting hurt.

But, it was more than that, really…if I'm honest with myself.

When you are in the public eye as a performer, people fall in love with you for all of the wrong things. What people see when I perform is a fantasy that I make. The fantasy is very beautiful and the lights, the costumes, the music…they all make it feel very real. The partners I was with were convinced that I was filled with that magic all of the time. It was hard for them to realize that when the competition is over and I take off my costume, I'm just a person, like everyone else. I don't always act like I do in a performance. Sometimes, I feel sleepy. I feel sulky. I feel angry or lonely or afraid. But always, I have to wear a smile in public, not matter what I feel. And I always try to be kind to my fans, pose for pictures and sign autographs, even if I'm so tired, all I want is to rest. I do it because I love skating. I love that I can share that with everyone. I appreciate the attention, even though sometimes I get tired or I feel overwhelmed.

The lovers I have had, have all been good people. It's just that I was never able to find someone who wanted to look beyond the fantasy and really love me. Last night, I felt so very different. It was like I was being seen for the very first time…as though the real me has been invisible for all of this time, and Yuuri was the spotlight that finally found me. Everything feels different and so much better now.

Everything.

He finished dressing and grooming, then gathered his things and left the room. He headed down the hallway and found himself smiling as he approached Yuuri's door. His feet slowed, though, and his smile faded as he spotted the cleaning cart just outside, and that the door to Yuuri's room was standing open.

He left already?

And…he didn't call me?

A twinge of mingled worry and confusion touched his insides and he paused in the hallway, trying to think of what to do next. He barely noticed the cleaning woman coming out of the room. She emptied the trash bin from the room into a larger one that was on the cart, then stopped and looked at him.

"Do you need something, sir?" the cleaning woman asked in a friendly tone.

Victor smiled disarmingly.

"Ah…no, just lost in thought."

"Oh. Have a good day, sir."

"Hmm."

Victor watched the cleaning woman go back into the room, and he moved forward. He started to walk past the cart, but a crumpled slip of paper in the trash bin caught his eye. He reached in to retrieve it, a feeling of deeper confusion and oncoming sadness overtaking him as he opened it and smoothed it with his fingers.

He threw it away?

Why?

Was he upset that we were kissing? Did I misjudge his intentions somehow? It's hard to misjudge him humping my leg and asking me to be his coach, or pushing me up against the wall and kissing and touching me like that. He was so into me that, if I had let him, he would have taken me.

Was he mad because I stopped him?

He didn't seem angry.

I thought that he was as into making out with me as I was with him. He never pushed me away or complained. His body language rang clear as a bell. He wanted me. Did I do something wrong? Did I say something wrong?

What happened?

Why did he throw it away?

"There you are!" snapped Yakov's scolding voice, "What are you just standing there for? Come on. Do you think we can wait for you forever?"

Wordlessly, Victor shoved the piece of paper into his pocket and joined his still scolding coach for a dazed, barely aware walk down to the hotel lobby. He waited silently as Yakov checked them out, then he followed like a silent shadow as Yakov led Yuri and him to a waiting taxi.

"What's wrong with you?" Yuri asked in his usual grouchy morning tone, "You look like you're about to throw up, Victor. Are you hungover or something?"

Victor looked out the window at the snowflakes that were beginning to fall, his fingers lightly caressing the piece of paper in his pocket.

"It's nothing. I'm fine," he answered in a dispirited tone, earning a curious glance from Yakov as the older man joined them, "I just…didn't sleep well."

"Who could after that travesty last night?" Yuri complained, "That fat piggy, Yuuri Katsuki, made a spectacle of himself, and he insulted me in front of everyone! Why the hell did I even do that stupid dance off? It was ridiculous. He only won because everyone felt sorry for him."

"I thought he danced well," Victor said in a soft, almost vulnerable tone, "He enchanted everyone there."

"Only because they were surprised he didn't fall on his ass, like he did in the competition!" Yuri seethed, "He's such a goddamned loser!"

"Oh, don't act so jealous," Victor chided him.

"Jealous? Do I sound jealous?"

"Yes, you do," Victor interjected.

"I'm not fucking jealous! Who'd be jealous of him anyway? He's a loser. He's a piggy. He's a…!"

Victor sighed and looked out the window as Yuri's insults continued and the cold of the snow seemed to creep into his chest and stomach. He remained quiet as they arrived at the airport, except for looking around hopefully a few times. But, if he was hoping to catch sight of Yuuri there, he was disappointed completely. There was no sign of the Japanese beauty, even though the airport teemed with skaters and their coaches and families returning home from the competition.

"Hey Victor!" Chris's voice called out, finally bringing back a little smile to the Russian skater's lips, "I was hoping I'd see you before heading home."

He gave his longtime friend a little wink.

"So…how did it go?" he asked in a playful tone, "Did you score last night with Yuuri Katsuki when you took him upstairs?"

"What? No," Victor said quickly, his heart aching, "of course not. I would never take advantage of someone who had too much to drink. You know that."

"How about after he sobered up?" Chris pressed, "Did you at least get to kiss him?"

"Eh…yes, I kissed him. We kissed."

"A lot?"

"Ah, I don't know," Victor said, blushing, "Yes, I suppose it was a lot."

"And did he go down on you?" Chris asked with a lascivious grin.

"Chris, don't be rude," Victor chuckled, "Yuuri wasn't in a state for anything like that. I just took him to his room and we kissed and touched some."

"Did you cum?" Chris giggled, "Did he?"

"Wh-what…y-yes, I suppose. Look, Yuuri was too drunk to be making choices last night. I kissed and touched with him a little and we might have climaxed, but with our clothes on…or sort of on, anyway."

"It sounds deliciously naughty."

"Stop," Victor sighed, shoving him away playfully, "It was nothing. I was just making sure he was all right. I did go along with him a little, but it didn't go far."

He took the slip of crumpled paper out of his pocket and showed it to his friend.

"And this is how interested he was when he woke up and was sober," he said sadly.

"Huh?" Chris mused, looking at the paper and frowning, "What is that?"

"What do you mean, what is it?" Victor huffed softly, "It's a little love note with my phone number on it. I left it by the bed and he crumpled it up and threw it in the trash. I suppose that sums up what he thought about last night."

Chris's frown deepened and he looked more closely at the note, then back at Victor.

"What?" Victor asked, looking perplexed, "You can see, right? He rejected me. After all of that sexy dancing with everyone…with me…and our kissing and making out, he crumpled this up and threw it in the trash. Don't you get it? Yuuri doesn't like me that way. He was obviously turned off, maybe insulted."

Chris gave Victor an impatient look and grabbed his hand, raising the paper so that it nearly touched the Russina skater's nose.

"I think you're the one who doesn't get it," he scoffed, "Look, you idiot! You wrote it in Russian! Does that boy even know the language?"

"Wh-what? I…?" Victor stammered, blinking and staring.

He's right!

I was drunk and not thinking and I wrote the note in Russian.

So…did Yuuri not understand it and think it was a mistake? Or did he understand perfectly and this was a rejection?

What does Yuuri Katsuki think of me now?