It had started out as a really good day, all things considered. Yuuri would never admit what he dreamt about to anyone, especially Viktor himself. How could you tell your idol that they'd been appearing in your dreams more and more these days, being adorably sweet and making your heart soar? It wasn't like Yuuri had never had a dream about Viktor before. Of course he had. He'd dreamt of Viktor skating flawlessly across the ice, of him maybe seeing him skate and telling Yuuri that he was impressed. It was always innocent things. Lately, they had gotten a little closer to home. Now that Yuuri had learned little things about Viktor, things had changed. Since finding out Viktor's love of moving into people's personal space, seeing his real, genuine, heart warming smile, and hearing very real compliments spilling from his lips, the Viktor in his dreams had become more… real.

That morning's particular dream had him pinned down, which he honestly was starting to get used to in his dreams. Viktor Nikiforov didn't know the meaning of personal space. The dream would shift between Viktor's sweet smile and gentle, loving looks, to his lips brushing against his neck as he nuzzled into Yuuri's skin, and the younger man couldn't help but giggle as Viktor's warm breath tickled his skin. The dreams were entirely innocent, never going much further than warm gazes and stolen moments, but that was enough to just make Yuuri even more confused. If he simply dreamt about Viktor as he always had before, he'd know that the Russian was still his idol, important and inspiring in his eyes. If the dreams had become less innocent, wandering hands, marked skin, pleasured sounds filling a silent room (and of course he had never thought like that, that would be crazy…), he'd know that he had the hots for Viktor. That thought wouldn't even be that difficult. Yuuri was sure most of the world had thought about Viktor like that at least once in their lives.

Yuuri's dreams weren't like that, though. His dreams were soft moments that he cherished even though they never existed. They were smiles meant for no one but him, the warm feeling in his chest when Viktor's eyes met his, the feeling of his comforting weight against him as they just held each other, or laid together, or any other number of innocent activities. Yuuri didn't know why he dreamt of Viktor like that. He didn't know what any of it meant and he really tried hard not to think about it.

You're coming back to Russia with me!

And now, there he was; laying on the ice, his eyes locked on the ceiling. He didn't dare look over at Viktor, didn't want to look at the Russian punk. It had started out as a good morning. He had even been offered a program created by Viktor Nikiforov himself. That really should've been the red flag in Yuuri's mind. Good things didn't happen to him and ever since Viktor came strolling into his life a month ago, his life had been going a whole lot better than it ever really had before. Good things weren't meant to last for him. That was just the way it worked.

"No, I'm not. Is that all you came here for?" Yuuri heard Viktor's words, but they didn't really make much sense in his head. Was Viktor really turning him down? Why? Yuuri could technically still stick to their little deal without Viktor there to help him. It would be a lot more difficult, but he could still do it. If Yuuri was honest with himself, he knew he probably wouldn't want to do it without Viktor there, but he made a promise, he had to keep it.

"You made a promise to me! Or did you forget again!?" The younger Russian's voice was filled with anger and frustration. Yuuri couldn't help but feel a pang of hurt. So, Viktor made a deal with the Russian Yuri, too? There really wasn't any reason for that to hurt him, there was no reason for him to believe he was anything special in the eyes of Viktor Nikiforov.

Yuuri's eyes were still glued to the ceiling, not moving to get up even as the ice seemed to stick to his arms. A moment of silence passed through the room before he heard the sound of Viktor's skates moving away, guessing he must've been moving to Yuri. This was it. This would be that moment where Viktor finally decides to leave, to head back home. Yuuri silently wished he'd made the most of that last smile he'd gotten from Viktor.

"You've been nagging me to teach you that routine for months, Yuri. I've taught you it. I kept my promise." The frustration was starting to seep into Viktor's voice. It was strange. Yuuri had never heard Viktor frustrated. Or angry. Or any other bad emotions, really.

"It's not refined yet. It's missing something. You know it is, Viktor. You really want me to perform a half-completed program with your name on it?" That was a low blow. Yuuri could tell the blond was trying to get under Viktor's skin, to push him to do what he wanted him to do. If he was honest, he'd never really heard anyone talk to Viktor like that. He didn't like it, but he knew it wasn't his place to get involved. Instead, he stayed where he was on the ice, lifting a leg until one of his blades was resting flat on the cold surface, but making no move to get up.

"That's not something I can teach you, Yuri. You need to figure it out for yourself. Yakov can help you." Viktor's voice was softer now, like he was really trying to get Yuri to see that he needed to do this himself. The huff he heard in response told Yuuri that it wasn't working.

"So, what? You're just going to stay in Japan with piggy over there?"

Yuuri probably would've been hurt at the name, but he'd heard far worse in the past. He did gain weight quickly. It was one of the reasons he had to be so strict on his diet when he was competing, though he'd never really said as much to Viktor. It was easier to just tell Viktor he wanted something smaller to eat, no matter how much a bowl of calories appealed to him. Another moment of silence passed before Yuuri heard Viktor's skates moving along the ice again. This time, they were moving closer and closer until he saw Viktor hovering over him, offering him a gentle smile. Yuuri was glad he was on the ground, because the way his heart fluttered at the sight of it probably would've made him fall over.

As a hand was offered to him, Yuuri just stared at Viktor for a moment, not sure what to do. He wasn't sure he was ready to get back on his feet. After all, Viktor hadn't responded to Yuri yet. If he got to his feet, would it be for Viktor to say goodbye? Yuuri couldn't really understand it, but after such a short time seeing Viktor every day, he didn't want to go back to being on his own. If he had to make this moment last as long as he possibly could just to get a few more minutes with Viktor, he'd do it. It was like Viktor could read his thoughts. He smirked, moving to sit beside Yuuri on the ice instead, "You can stay if you want to, Yurachka, but I'm not leaving. I still have a lot to do here."

"Neuzheli on deystvitel'no tak vazhen?" The young boy's voice rings out across the empty room, and though Yuuri had no idea what he said, he was making no attempt at hiding how annoyed he seemed.

Yuuri glanced over at Viktor, still seated beside him and noticed that Viktor was watching him, gentle, welcoming blue eyes just watching as he'd been staring at the ceiling. It was funny, Viktor's eyes were such a beautiful shade of blue, it reminded Yuuri of ice, yet his gaze always made him feel so warm. As Viktor saw Yuuri looking back at him, he reached out, brushing a hand reassuringly against his arm, "Da."

"Kak vy dumayete, chto vy mozhete poluchit' ot svin'i, kotoruyu vy ne mozhete poluchit' v Rossii?"

Yuuri felt like he was in some kind of foreign movie. He had absolutely no idea what was going on around him, but Viktor's soft smile was reassuring. He said he was going to stay. Did he mean it? Yuuri really couldn't help but cling onto that hope, looking back at the ceiling as Viktor began to gently trace circles against his arm with his finger. Yuuri knew he couldn't look at Viktor anymore without blushing, so it was best to just stare at the ceiling and listen to the surprisingly calming sound of the Russian conversation. This time, Viktor's voice came out soft and Yuuri could practically hear his smile, "YA ne znayu, no ya ne mogu dozhdat'sya, chtoby uznat'."

Another grumble was heard from the side of the rink, "Idiot."

Without thinking, Yuuri was raising a finger to the sky to interject, "That word, I know." He knew he probably sounded stupid, but he wasn't fond of the tension that had slowly made its way into the room. He didn't want to think about Viktor leaving, about the things that Yuri could be saying to him to talk him into going back to Russia. Yuuri couldn't make Viktor stay, and really, he didn't want to. It wouldn't be the same if Viktor didn't want to be there.

"You must be very familiar with it, piggy." The Russian punk spoke from the sidelines, causing Yuuri to frown. He probably should've seen that coming.

But then, Viktor was laughing, and it was such a heavenly sound that he really couldn't find it in himself to mind. Yuri Plisetsky was known for his short temper. He still wasn't very good at talking to the press for that reason, and there had been plenty of occasions in the past where Viktor would step in to answer a question for him, or Yakov would announce that Yuri had nothing more to say before guiding him away from the prying eyes of the public. Being insulted by Yuri Plisetsky would probably be seen as a blessing to some people, so he couldn't really complain. Not when it caused Viktor to laugh the way he did. And just as he let himself think about how wonderful that laugh was, Yuuri felt Viktor's hand gently grip his arm. Instinctively, he looked over at the other man, offering him a small smile. He was sure Viktor was worried about him. After all, he had been laying on the ice for a long time now, and Yuuri was sure his clothes would be stuck to it at this rate.

"You okay to keep practicing?" Viktor asked, offering his hand once more. Yuuri didn't say anything, this time taking the offer and getting to his feet.

OoOoO

Of all the ways Yuuri could've been spending his afternoon, this wasn't what he'd expected. There he was, standing on the edge of the ice, Yuri Plisetsky beside him looking thoroughly annoyed with the entire situation, but making no move to leave. His arms were crossed over his chest and they were both watching as Viktor moved along the ice. It wasn't exactly a program that he was skating. It seemed more like he was warming himself up, no doubt preparing to show Yuuri whatever he had planned to teach him. It took Yuuri off guard to hear the young boy next to him speak up, "He never could stay off the ice, even when he retired."

It was hard to tell what Yuri was thinking, his voice masking his emotions, but as they watched Viktor move along the ice as though it were his home, Yuuri couldn't help but smile, "I'm glad. It wouldn't be the same without him."

Yuri scoffed, looking to the floor for a moment, leaning against the barrier, "He's never stopped loving to skate. He just lost his taste for competition. After a while it gets boring, that's what he told me." It was hard to believe. Viktor was a legend. But then, if he really thought about it, with all the consecutive wins, there was a chance it could get boring. Besides, the pressure would no doubt be mounting up. A moment of silence passed between them before Yuri continued, "I'd like to taste it for myself. He says it gets boring, I won't know until I've felt it. I know I can win, this program just needs a little more work."

For the first time since Viktor had started moving on the ice, Yuuri tore his eyes away to look at the boy standing beside him. Yuri didn't look angry or upset. There was a fierce determination in his eyes. He may have come across as nothing but a cocky teenager, but Yuri had a passion. He was determined to win, and anyone could see that. It was impressive, the older man couldn't help but be a little jealous. As he thought about it, he could understand Yuri's desperation. He so badly wanted to win, so much that he travelled across the world just to follow Viktor to perfect his program. Nobody could deny Yuri was dedicated.

Yuuri cleared his throat, taking a shaky breath, "If… I mean… If you want to stay for a while and train with Viktor, it's fine. It's not like he's my coach. And if he wants to teach you, I won't stop him."

It was as though he was speaking another language, the way Yuri was looking at him. His arms were still crossed over his chest, but piercing green eyes were staring into him as though he were trying to understand a mystery with no solution. The moment seemed to stretch on forever before Yuri finally spoke, "You're strange, piggy. We're meant to be competing against each other."

"Doesn't mean we can't help each other." Yuuri shrugged. He had only ever really had one friend in figure skating, but that didn't mean he wasn't willing to help those around him. After all the madness he had been through, he liked to think he would help anyone who would let him. He knew he would've loved to have someone to help him through everything that had happened last year, after all.

"Yeah, yeah. Respect your fellow competitor." Yuri grumbled, "You and Viktor…" The young boy trailed off, and part of Yuuri wanted to know how that sentence could possibly end. A sentence that started with himself and Viktor. Together. There was something so thrilling about the thought of them together, connected in some way, even if it was the simplest of subjects.

"Yuuri! This is the program I want you to learn. Pay attention, okay?" He was broken from his thoughts at the sound of Viktor calling out to him and all he could do was nod in acknowledgement as Viktor settled in the centre of the rink. Watching Viktor, it really did seem like he was born to be on the ice. There was really no other way to describe it. Even just standing still, preparing for his next move, Viktor seemed at home.

Yuri seemed to take this as his cue, starting some music that Viktor must've prepared without him realising. How long had Viktor planned this? It wasn't like he'd run back to the onsen to get the music. He had it here. He was prepared to share this with him. Did Viktor really want him to perform this program?

As the music flowed through the room, Yuuri's attention was solely Viktor's. He wanted to know what kind of program his idol believed so firmly would be perfect for him. Viktor's arms moved so gracefully around himself until he was shooting Yuuri a look, his silver hair sweeping to the side. Yuuri had to brace himself on the barrier behind him at the sight of it, his knees going weak. This wasn't the kind of dance Yuuri had ever seen from Viktor, the kind of emotion he'd expected. There was so much passion in this program, so much sex appeal, and Yuuri couldn't possibly imagine why Viktor thought this would be perfect for him of all people. As the music continued, Yuuri could only watch as Viktor moved through a step sequence, finally reaching the jumps. This program seemed to be backloaded with jumps. It wasn't necessarily a problem. Yuuri had good stamina, so he was sure that was something he could handle. At least, that was what he thought before he saw Viktor effortlessly complete a quad salchow. That wasn't something Yuuri had ever successfully landed. He didn't even know where to start.

Just as quickly as the routine had begun, it seemed to come to an end, Viktor's arms wrapping around himself protectively. Yuuri was completely oblivious to the blush rising on his cheeks, too lost in that performance. His mind kept playing back every movement, afraid he'd forget something, though he couldn't possibly. How could anyone forget that? Sure, there were plenty of people in the world who thought Viktor Nikiforov was a sex god, but his performances rarely put that side of himself on display. Yuuri had never really thought about that side of him before, but now he had a feeling these thoughts might just come back to haunt his dreams some more.

Though Yuuri was staring at Viktor, he didn't really seem to notice that he was moving closer. His hands were still tightly gripping the barrier behind him, trying to keep himself upright when Viktor's voice broke through his thoughts, "What do you think?"

"I… uh…" What was he supposed to say? What could anyone possibly say about a performance like that? If he had any less self-control, he'd probably be throwing himself at him. Yuuri was so very thankful that he did. He didn't need to try to explain that one to Viktor, or indeed the young boy standing beside him. Taking a shaky breath, Yuuri made sure his legs weren't so shaky before he finally let go of the barrier, "I don't know if I can do that." He admitted, looking away. It wasn't that he was scared Viktor would be angry. Yuuri hadn't really seen Viktor get angry at any point before. Yuuri just didn't want to see him disappointed, didn't want to know that he was the one who disappointed Viktor Nikiforov.

"Of course you can." The voice didn't sound upset. No, it sounded amused.

Reluctantly, Yuuri looked up at Viktor, "That routine isn't me."

"It is. Trust me." Viktor chuckled, glancing over at the boy beside him, "Tell him, Yuri."

"Ostav' menya iz rituala sparivaniya." Yuri grumbled, rolling his eyes when Viktor chuckled in response, "Are you going to train me now or not?"

Viktor sighed and Yuuri could've sworn there was some disappointment laced into that sound. He looked back into Viktor's eyes, smiling reassuringly. If Yuuri wanted to perform that program, it was going to take a lot of work, but he didn't mind letting Viktor work with Yuri for a while. There were plenty of areas Yuuri could work on by himself. Or even with the help of Minako.

Viktor clapped his hands together and he was once again beamed his contagious, heart shaped smile, "Think about what you aren't able to do and we'll work on it tomorrow. Yurachka, you're up."

Author Notes: Exams are over! I'm free until March which means I should hopefully be updating this fairly frequently depending on my muse for it. You know how you know where a story is going to go but you're not entirely certain on how it'll get to that destination? Yeah, that's what this story is. Anyway, I just wanted to thank everyone who has reviewed, favourited, or followed the story. Since it's my first attempt at YOI, it means a lot. 😊 As always, I am not even remotely fluent in Russian, so if these translations are wrong, I'm sorry!

Translations:

Neuzheli on deystvitel'no tak vazhen? – Is he really that important?

Da – Yes.

Kak vy dumayete, chto vy mozhete poluchit' ot svin'i, kotoruyu vy ne mozhete poluchit' v Rossii? - What do you think you can get from a pig that you cannot get in Russia?

YA ne znayu, no ya ne mogu dozhdat'sya, chtoby uznat'. – I don't know, but I can't wait to find out.

Ostav' menya iz rituala sparivaniya. - Leave me out of the mating ritual.