There were some positives for being in first place after the short program. It gave him an edge. Being ahead before the free skate meant that he could afford to make a mistake. He was eight points above everyone else after the short program. That was easily enough points to cement his place on the podium, so long as he performed reasonably well in the free skate. Unfortunately for Yuuri, being in first place after the short program also came with it's problems.
Yuuri was always a nervous, anxious person. Being the one to beat was not helping his nerves. He knew that every skater would be gunning for him, they would be doing everything to beat him. It wasn't something Yuuri was used to. He was much more familiar with being at the bottom of the ranks, trying to climb his way back up. Even Phichit had said he would be coming for him in the free program. Yuuri was used to being in the shadows, going unnoticed. He liked it that way. Being in the spotlight was different. It was scary. Added to that was his family and friends excitedly encouraging him, telling him that he could do it. It was just so much pressure. He didn't know if he really could live up to whatever it was people were expecting of him.
Sleep wasn't coming to Yuuri that night. He didn't know how Viktor did this. It was hard enough to fight off the nerves already without being at the top of the scoreboard. This was the first time he'd felt these nerves before. It wasn't even this bad back at the championship. This felt so much greater, so much more important. Glancing over, Yuuri reached for his glasses, slipping them back on. He'd given up on sleep. It simply wasn't going to come no matter how hard he tried. Looking over at the bed beside his own, he saw Viktor's sleeping body and wondered how someone so incredible, so perfect in every way could be so close. It was still strange to believe that Viktor was right there, within reach. Part of him really wished Viktor was wrapped up with him again. Maybe that would make sleeping easier. Of course, it would. Whenever he had Viktor close, it seemed like all the thoughts seemed to fade away and he was left with nothing but the here and now, the closeness, the warmth. Viktor was like his own brand of reassurance designed especially for him.
Picking up his phone, Yuuri noted that it was already two in the morning. Viktor usually made them wake up early, saying there was no point in wasting the day. If he was lucky, he'd maybe be able to get four, maybe even five more hours sleep. Yuuri knew that wasn't going to happen. His mind was too full. He had too much to think about. In times like these, Yuuri would head down to Ice Castle and skate until his thoughts went away, but that wasn't an option now. Instead, he did the next best thing. Quietly, Yuuri slipped out from his bed, making sure he wouldn't wake Viktor as he tugged on his sweatpants and a jacket before tying his shoes and heading out the door. He just needed some air. That's what he had told himself. If he couldn't be on the ice, he could go for a run.
It felt strange to run without Makkachin nipping at his feet, following behind him. How long had it been now? Six, seven months? Viktor had been in his life for seven months now. It didn't feel like that long. Viktor had swept him off his feet in every way, and time seemed to fly by when he was there. It was scary, really. To think that Viktor Nikiforov had been such an important part of his life for so long and it had felt like maybe a month. Yuuri set a steady pace as he ran along the streets of Beijing, looking around himself every now and then to see the bright lights of the city. It was so much bigger than Hasetsu. Of course, he'd been there before when he had been qualifying for Sochi, but he had never really stepped far from his hotel room. This time, though, it felt good to go for a run in the cool night air. If only it would help his mind clear, but it just didn't seem to stop.
There was so much riding on his performance today. He had so much to prove in the course of a few short minutes, and everyone would be watching, judging his every move. He had to show people that he wasn't the same person who made a fool of himself back in Sochi. They expected him to be like that, he was sure. They expected him to falter, to stumble, to make a mockery of himself, but he knew he couldn't let that happen. To fail now would be failing his family, his friends, Viktor… Every skate was a chance to lose Viktor. That's what he was beginning to realise. With every skate, he had the potential to fail, and the moment he failed, Viktor would get his dance and then walk away. He'd never see him again. The man who had swept into his life like a gust of wind and shook his world off kilter. Suddenly, Yuuri's life was filled with smiles, laughter, confidence, support… a life of black and white had been filled with colour by the mere sound of Viktor's voice reminding him that everything was going to be okay. There were things that Yuuri Katsuki didn't realise he was missing in his life, but now that he had them, he couldn't imagine being without them.
Still, he couldn't afford to grow so attached to Viktor. No matter how much he wanted to, he knew that it couldn't last, that this was all a means to an end. Nothing good ever lasted forever, and this was no different. Tears stung at Yuuri's eyes and he gritted his teeth as he sped up his pace, as if running from the very feelings that were brimming at the surface. He didn't want to be alone again. He didn't know how to deal with the thoughts that tried so hard to suffocate him when he had to fight them unaided. Alone, he'd be dragged under, he'd drown in his sadness. Before Viktor came into his life, it was spiralling out of control. He didn't know what he was going to do with himself, he just knew that his future was looking bleak. Maybe he already had the talent, maybe Viktor had seen something in him, but he knew that it never would've come out without the Russian's help.
It was more than that, though. Viktor Nikiforov had always been this idol on a pedestal far beyond his reach, this God of figure skating who could do no wrong. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen Viktor mess up a jump or step out of rhythm. He was truly perfection on the ice. Yuuri knew he couldn't be the only one who looked up to him. Viktor was everything a figure skater wanted to be. But it wasn't that simple anymore. Since Viktor had stepped into his life, he'd learned so much about him that he never knew from the newspapers, or the interviews. Viktor was a morning person. He went to sleep easily and seemed to sleep soundly. He loved culture. Every time they were in a new town, Viktor would drag him everywhere, desperate to show him everything. Viktor was affectionate to a fault, often forgetting the unwritten rules of public displays with his insistence to wrap an arm around Yuuri's waist or hold his hand. It was always to save them getting separated. That's what Yuuri told himself. Seeing Viktor skating in person was something else, too. There was so much passion in every move he made, like he was determined to tell his story. It wasn't about getting a certain amount of points. It was about the art, the music, the performance. Viktor Nikiforov was so much more than the man the press had painted him as.
And Yuuri Katsuki's heart fluttered every time he thought about him.
He didn't realise how fast or far he'd been running until his breath finally caught up with him, urging him to stop as his lungs burned with the need for air. Yuuri slowed to a halt, resting his hands on his knees as he bent over to catch his breath, and it was as if his body decided that was all the invitation it needed for his tears to slip, hitting the pavement like raindrops. Why did it hurt so much? There had been so many people who had walked in and out of his life, so many people who had helped him and taught him so many things, why did Viktor mean so much more? Why did the thought of him going back to Russia make his whole body numb? Why was he trying so desperately to impress Viktor enough to make him stay? Yuuri couldn't figure out what was wrong with him.
Yuuri rubbed the tears away from behind his glasses, sighing dejectedly. It felt like his whole life was a mess. It didn't make sense, he should've been over the moon. Pulling out his phone, he realised he'd already been running for an hour. If he wanted to get back before Viktor woke up, he'd have to start moving now. The thought that maybe some fresh air would clear his mind had been well and truly debunked. Yuuri was even more confused than he'd been before.
OoOoO
Yuuri hadn't been back in his bed very long before he heard the man on the other side of the room begin to wake up. He knew Viktor wouldn't let him stay asleep long. Being a morning person and believing in the importance of living every day to the fullest meant that Viktor was always pushing Yuuri to get out of bed early. He didn't mind on this day, though. He hadn't gotten to sleep, and he was sure that he wasn't going to get any no matter how long he tried. His head just wouldn't stay quiet. As if on cue, Yuuri felt the mattress shift beside him, but he kept his eyes closed. He could at least pretend he got some sleep. That way Viktor wouldn't worry about him, right?
He didn't know what he was expecting. Viktor had woken him up almost every day since he'd walked into Yuuri's life, but he never really knew how Viktor did it other than hearing his voice and occasionally feeling the gentle nudge on his arm. He tried to stay still as he felt Viktor's hand brush along his side and gently over his arm. Yuuri was thankful his eyes were closed, and his head was buried into his pillow, because he was sure Viktor would've noticed the blush rising on his cheeks if he did. Why was Viktor like this with him? He was always so gentle and careful, and this was a side of Viktor that Yuuri only ever saw when they were alone. Was Viktor self-conscious, too? He couldn't imagine why. As Viktor's hand brushed through his dark hair, Yuuri did his best to stay quiet and not lean into that soothing touch.
"Yuuri. I know you're awake." Viktor's voice was soft and Yuuri could practically hear him smirking. He didn't move at first, not wanting Viktor to have his suspicion confirmed. It didn't have anything to do with how much he was enjoying the gentle touches. That was just a happy bonus. As if sensing his thoughts, Viktor chuckled, and suddenly Yuuri felt the weight of the other man sprawled on top of him, "Yuuri… you can't fool me, I know what you're like when you're asleep."
He knew there was no point in trying to pretend, not when Viktor was like this. He'd just keep messing with him until he admitted he was still awake. Reluctantly, Yuuri turned over to lay on his back. Viktor shifted his weight so that he could stay over Yuuri even as he turned and suddenly Yuuri was a dakimakura for his Russian idol. He looked down at his chest where Viktor was resting his head, though his eyes were focused on his face. Viktor's fingers were tracing circles along Yuuri's side as he watched him, "Your hair's cold, have you been outside?"
Yuuri didn't want to tell Viktor that he'd been out for a few hours, trying to forget all the thoughts that were running through his head, but Viktor was observant, and he was a terrible liar. Without thinking, he brushed a hand through his hair, realising that Viktor was right, he was still cold from the night air, "Oh uh... Yeah, I just wanted to get some fresh air. Don't worry, I wasn't out for long."
Viktor watched him carefully, and Yuuri really wanted to know what he was thinking. Viktor had always been difficult to read. He wasn't sure how. Maybe it was just something he'd learned after years of being in the spotlight. After a while he'd want to hide himself away from prying eyes. That just made sense. Besides, Viktor did always enjoy surprising people. After a long pause, Viktor nodded, tapping his finger against Yuuri's chest, "You're not usually awake before I am."
He'd probably be a little uncomfortable if he wasn't so used to Viktor's affection. He was always like this, it was just another part of who he was that the press never prepared him for. Yuuri nodded hesitantly as he watched Viktor, noticing that his hair was a little ruffled from sleeping. It still looked good, though. Viktor always looked good, "I guess I was having trouble sleeping."
Viktor frowned, shifting himself closer until their chests were pressed together and their faces were almost touching. He tilted his head as he watched Yuuri curiously, his silvery bangs falling to the side as he did, "You haven't slept at all, have you?"
"Wh-What? Of course I have!" Yuuri was a terrible liar at the best of times. It was even more difficult when there were a pair of mesmerising blue eyes staring into his. It was like Viktor was just as curious about what he was thinking as Yuuri was about him.
Viktor smiled brightly, gently patting Yuuri's chest, "You can take a nap. We don't have to be at Shǒudū until later."
"But Viktor—"
He was quickly cut off as the Russian sat up, still hovering over him, "I used to sleep right up until competitions all the time. It can be good, trust me."
Viktor was shifting his weight to move away from Yuuri and give him some space. Without thinking, the man beneath him reached out, gripping his arm to stop him. The move caught Viktor off guard as the pair of them stayed still, staring into each other's eyes.
Yuuri had a head filled with self-doubt and confusion. He couldn't get the thoughts to go away, the fear of letting down the people he cared about, the fear of Viktor leaving, the fear of the emotions that he couldn't begin to understand that were beginning to surface within him. The only thing he understood was that Viktor's presence made all his doubts fade away. When Viktor was close to him, his mind was clear. It was as though he was gliding effortlessly along the ice the way he did in practices, but instead, he was looking into Viktor's eyes, or listening to his melodious laughter. Viktor was his remedy, and he needed him now more than ever. "Can you… can you maybe stay…? Just for a little while."
Viktor raised an eyebrow as he watched Yuuri and suddenly he wasn't so sure asking him to stay was such a good idea, "You want me here…in your bed?"
"You don't have to make a big deal out of it…" Yuuri didn't want to admit how much he needed Viktor. Not now. Viktor already knew he was a weak person. He didn't need to know just how week he really was. It seemed to be enough to get Viktor to let it go, though. Instead, Viktor was shifting his weight until he was resting his head on Yuuri's chest again, closing his eyes.
The room was filled with silence after that. It seemed that though Viktor had seemed so full of energy, he was able to go right back to sleeping if he really wanted to. Yuuri had to admit he was a little jealous of that talent. Falling asleep always felt like such a process. He'd never understand how people were able to fall asleep the moment their heads hit their pillows. Yuuri looked down at Viktor laying over him, wondering what he was supposed to do. His presence made Yuuri's skating worries fade away, but it was only because his mind was so filled with thoughts of what his feelings were doing when it came to his idol. If only he wasn't a fan. He didn't want his fanatic obsession with his idol to get in the way of the friendship he'd come to cherish.
"Viktor…?" Yuuri spoke softly, unsure of whether the man above him had fallen asleep again.
"Hm?"
Without thinking, Yuuri was moving a hand to rest against Viktor's back, keeping him in place. It was almost as though he was afraid his question would scare Viktor away, that he would leave the moment his next words left his lips, "When the Grand Prix is over… what are you going to do?"
He seemed to think about the question for a moment, "I don't know, Yuuri. I won't know until it's over. My career is part of the deal, remember?"
That made sense, but it wasn't exactly the answer Yuuri was looking for. He didn't really think about it like that. It hadn't truly sunk in that Viktor's entire future was resting on how well Yuuri did in the Grand Prix Circuit. That wasn't something he wanted to think about, the nerves were already bad enough as it was. Looking up at the ceiling, Yuuri sighed softly, "Will you go back to Russia?"
"Maybe. This is the longest I've ever been away from home."
Yuuri frowned, listening to Viktor's soft voice, "Do you miss it?"
"Sometimes." The Russian admitted, shifting himself until he was comfortable atop Yuuri, "Mostly I think about the places I could show you in St. Petersburg. I used to take Makkachin to a beach there all the time. It was so peaceful. The seagulls back in Hasetsu reminded me of home." He paused in thought, "The whole city lights up at night. Like stars. I got pretty used to it, but I think you'd like it."
Yuuri had been to Russia only once. He'd stayed there for the Rostelecom Cup, and for the Sochi Grand Prix Final. It hadn't exactly been a wonderful experience, but that had nothing to do with Russia itself. He never really took the time to look around while he was there. Yuuri lived in his head so much, he never paid much attention to anything beyond it before Viktor came along. He wanted to see Russia through Viktor's eyes, to understand his home and all the things that were so precious to him. It was the same feeling he wanted Viktor to understand he felt for Hasetsu. Listening to Viktor talk about his home, Yuuri knew that he had to be at least a little bit homesick. But. Was that an invitation?
"Do you… want me to come back to Russia with you?" The question hung in the air, met with silence. Maybe Yuuri had gone too far. Maybe he'd overstepped his boundaries. Of course, that wasn't what Viktor meant. They'd have to go back to Russia for the Rostelecom Cup. That's what he was talking about. It wasn't about what came after the Grand Prix at all. Viktor was just thinking about the next stop on their journey. He didn't know why he was jumping to wild conclusions. Maybe he was just desperate to keep Viktor in his life, he'd do whatever it took. When the silence hung in the air for too long, Yuuri glanced down at the man on his chest, and it was then he understood the silence.
Viktor was peacefully sleeping, no doubt dreaming of the place he calls home.
OoOoO
Though Viktor had insisted on the nap, Yuuri hadn't gotten any sleep. He didn't know why he thought having Viktor there with him would make it easier, really. It took one train of thought away and replaced it with another. Yuuri couldn't win. He was tired, but he couldn't sleep. He was nervous, shaking, but he couldn't let his nerves effect his performance. Viktor believed in him, that much was clear. The way he talked about showing Yuuri around Russia only proved it. Viktor was so sure he was going to qualify for the Rostelecom Cup, and Yuuri couldn't let him down. He had to do this. If only his nerves would stop screaming you can't.
The practice had started out alright with Yuuri attempting to calm his nerves with his favourite gentle skate. It was starting to work, too. He didn't feel so much like there were so many people watching him. When he moved slowly but gracefully along the ice, it made all the fears slowly fade away, but he knew that there wasn't enough time in the practice to take the nerves away for good, and he knew that there was too much time between now and his own skate for it to maintain it's effect. The final nail in the coffin was Yuuri's attempt at a jump. Hitting the ice with a loud thud, he groaned softly, taking a moment to get to his feet. He had to stop thinking so much. He was going to completely ruin this for himself and for Viktor. He couldn't afford to ruin this. It wasn't about him anymore. It was about his friends, his family, Viktor… He had to do well. He had to make it onto the podium.
As Yuuri made his way off the ice, he kept his head down, avoiding Viktor's gaze. He didn't want pity. Worse, he was afraid he might see a hint of doubt in his eyes. Even if he didn't believe in himself, Viktor believed in him. That's what he kept telling himself. He didn't need to believe in himself. If his idol, arguably the greatest skater in the world thought he could do this, then he could. It was just that simple. And yet, as Guang Hong took the ice, Yuuri was reminded that all those other skaters were gunning for him, they wanted his place. They were focused on beating him.
Yuuri knew he was supposed to be doing his stretches, preparing for his time on the ice, but instead, he was focused on the TV showing him Guang Hong's performance. The music was very different from his short program, but that wasn't necessarily a bad thing. He moved well to the music, and you could see he was telling a story as he moved across the ice. His artistry was something special. He was sure that with time, Guang Hong could be a force to be reckoned with on the ice.
A moment passed, and he was landing a quadruple toe loop. Yuuri could see that it was over rotated, and he'd lose marks for execution, but he had landed it, and continued moving on the ice. Another moment later, he was landing a flawless triple axel, single loop, triple salchow combination. Yuuri had to drag his eyes away from the TV, knowing that watching wasn't helping. Not at all. He was so nervous and seeing Guang Hong perform only made the knots in his stomach tighten. They weren't holding anything back. They wanted to win so badly, and they were going to fight for it. He should've expected that, but he wasn't used to that determination being aimed at him. All of them wanted to beat him. They all wanted him to fail in their own way.
Pacing the corridor, Yuuri thought that maybe just keeping himself moving would be enough to calm him down. That's why he went for those long runs. Though the run from that morning hadn't exactly made things any easier. He just needed to stop thinking about it. That's all that it was. He needed to stop focusing on everyone else, and skate like he did during practice. There was no one else there. No other skaters. No one watching. It was just like any other practice. Yeah. That's all it was.
"Guang Hong Ji has earned in the free skate… 168.82. He is currently in first place."
The announcement came over the loudspeaker in the venue, and all the fears and insecurities came flooding back. Well, not exactly. They hadn't disappeared to begin with. Not completely. Yuuri was standing in a corner, shaking as he heard the announcement that Chris Giacometti was next on the ice. He could hear the people around him talking, excited to watch the performers, excited whenever they landed a jump. They were all talking over each other until it was just noise; the sound of excited press. He was becoming familiar with that sound. Not because he was particularly popular, just because of all the time he'd spent with their champion skater. Every time they saw Viktor, they were flocking to his side. Yuuri was too distracted with his own thoughts to pay any attention to them, though. He was lost in his fears. The nerves were bad that morning, but he hadn't realised just how scared he was until that moment.
Maybe it was the announcement. Maybe he just needed to drown out the sound. Putting his ear plugs in, Yuuri used the nearby wall to attempt some of his stretches. He needed to be ready. No matter how scared he was, he had to prepare himself for his skate. He couldn't avoid it forever, and he couldn't let something as simple as forgetting to stretch hold him back. Still, his legs were shaky. He performed here just the day before. Why was it like this now? Maybe because they expected a nobody yesterday, and today he was the one to beat. Yuuri didn't want to admit it to himself, but he was missing being the nobody. Sometimes it was easier to be the loser. No one expects anything from the one who fails.
Yuuri was broken from his thoughts as he felt a tug on his arm, looking up to see Viktor. He was being pulled away from the room before he could really understand what was going on, but he understood why. Viktor was worried about him. He didn't blame him, either. He was a mess. Yuuri didn't know where they were going, but he wasn't one to question Viktor's actions. Not usually, at least. There was a voice in his head that told him everything Viktor did was for his benefit, that he knew what was best for Yuuri. Maybe that wasn't entirely true. Viktor could be clueless. He could say stupid things, he could act without thinking. There had been plenty of times when Yuuri had told Viktor to just stop. But that didn't matter in the moment. In the moment, Yuuri was a mess, and Viktor was his lifeline.
Once Viktor let go of his arm, Yuuri realised they were in an empty parking lot, devoid of people. Viktor had spent so much time with him over the last few months. He seemed to know Yuuri better than Yuuri knew himself. He knew that what Yuuri needed was space. He needed quiet, he needed to be able to breathe. Viktor rested his hands on Yuuri's shoulders, looking into his eyes and Yuuri took it as a sign to take out his ear plugs.
"Look at me." Viktor instructed, his voice soft and reassuring.
Yuuri really didn't know why Viktor had instructed him to do that, his eyes were already locked on the taller man before him, and there was no way he could possibly look away. Viktor's eyes were one of the most beautiful things about him, and being so close to him, hearing his soothing voice, seeing the kindness in those eyes, he didn't want to look away.
"Take a deep breath," Viktor kept his voice quiet. He didn't need to speak up, the room around them was silent. If Viktor raised his voice, it would echo throughout the parking lot, and it seemed like Viktor was just as determined to keep this moment to them as Yuuri was. Viktor watched as Yuuri took in a deep breath, smiling, "Now let it out slowly."
Yuuri kept his eyes focused on the shimmering blue ones looking back at him as he let out the breath. His nerves weren't gone, but they weren't nearly as bad as they had been moments ago. This was what he needed. Space. Time. Silence. Viktor.
"Better?" Viktor asked after a moment, finally dropping his hands from Yuuri's shoulders.
He nodded hesitantly, "A little."
Viktor smiled, "You think you can tell me what's got you so worked up?"
The question came as a surprise, and Yuuri looked down at his feet, avoiding Viktor's gaze. Viktor had been in the spotlight for so long now, had been the champion for so long, Yuuri doubted he ever felt the nerves that he was feeling now. Viktor was a champion on and off the ice. He was so passionate, filled with so much determination. There was no way Viktor Nikiforov would let nerves get in the way of his performances. Yuuri shifted awkwardly on the spot, trying to find the right words, "I… I've never been… the one to beat. I was always the one at the back."
Viktor stayed quiet for a moment. Yuuri really wished he could just know what Viktor was thinking. He was so hard to read. It was impossible to know what was going on in his head. It just added to the fear. Viktor would think he was pathetic, would realise that he was wasting all this time on a wimpy cry baby with no real talents, someone who is so hung up on his insecurities and his lack of confidence that he can't even handle the slightest amount of success. Because Yuuri Katsuki wasn't born to be a winner. He was sure that's what it was. He was never meant to be in first place. He was the one who made others look good. Nothing more.
"Phichit Chulanont's score in the free program… 199.01. He is currently in first place."
The announcement broke Yuuri from his thoughts, his breath catching as he looked up at the loudspeaker. He'd missed his best friend's skate. More than that, it had been an amazing score. He couldn't possibly beat that. What had Phichit done to score so highly? Why had he let his nerves stop him from seeing his best friend's skate?
But it wasn't about that anymore. His head was so lost in the thought that he couldn't do this, that there was no way he was going to be able to get on the podium, that this was the last day he'd have with Viktor and he was spending it in an empty parking lot. His heart was pounding as his mind played through all the ways this was going to go wrong. Viktor would never want to speak to him again after Yuuri disappoints him. Everyone would be reminded of the failure that he'd been back in Sochi. His past was going to come back to haunt him. Things had been so good for so long, it was only a matter of time before it came crumbling down around him, and Yuuri was sure that this was that moment.
"Yuuri!" Viktor's voice broke through just enough to catch Yuuri's attention, his hands back on his shoulders, trying to steady him.
It wasn't working this time, though. Phichit had such a wonderful score, and he hadn't even heard how well Chris had done. Leo was next, and he was a crowd pleaser. There were so many skaters here who deserved this more than he did. Why did he think he could do this? Why did he think he deserved Viktor Nikiforov's attention?
"Hey, come on." Viktor tried to get through to the shaking man before him, "You're always saying you need me to help your nerves, so tell me what you need me to do and I'll do it. Just like last time, right? You wanted me to watch, so I watched. You wanted me to stay, so I stayed." He gently squeezed Yuuri's shoulders, "Just tell me what you need."
Viktor was a man of surprises. He had continued to surprise Yuuri ever since he was twelve years old. Viktor Nikiforov was a man of legends. He was perfection, a man that could do no wrong. But that wasn't the man Yuuri knew. Viktor was clumsy, forgetful, he was absolutely terrible at reading a room. He said stupid things and got excited about something as simple as a bowl of rice. Viktor was not like the papers said, he was so much more, and he was standing in front of him, desperate to take away the pain. But how? How could Viktor make him stop shaking? How could Viktor make this stop?
Every time Yuuri had been in Viktor's arms, his thoughts had melted away to nothing but the Russian man in front of him. The warmth of his touch, the reassuring smell of his cologne. Viktor himself was the cure for Yuuri's anxiety. Viktor was what he needed. When Yuuri really thought about it like that, the answer seemed so simple. The fears and doubts were still racing through his mind, telling him that this would be the last time he'd see Viktor before he was heading on a plane back to Russia, and Yuuri was so desperate to make it stop. Without thinking, he was tugging Viktor closer.
He just wanted a hug. Every time Viktor hugged him, things were okay. Just a hug. Yuuri told himself over and over again that that was all he needed. But what he thought he needed, and what he felt and wanted were too different things. Just a hug. It was just supposed to be a hug.
Yuuri's hands were fisted into the front of Viktor's coat, keeping him in place as the simple hug Yuuri had intended instead became a desperate need for contact, their lips crashing together. If he had more control over himself, he'd be screaming that this wasn't what he was supposed to be doing, that this was wrong, and that he shouldn't be doing this, but Yuuri was being fuelled by nothing but the need to make the fear go away and the desire to have Viktor as close as possible. All of this was mixed up with his confusion over his own emotions. Yuuri was drowning in uncertainty, clinging to Viktor like a life saver.
If there were sounds around them, Yuuri couldn't hear it, focused on Viktor, on how it felt to have him that close. The adrenaline couldn't last forever, though. His mind was screaming at him, telling him that he had to stop, that this was wrong. Yuuri finally realised exactly what it was he was doing. He was kissing his idol, the man who had been there for him for months on end. He was kissing Viktor Nikiforov, and if he was afraid of scaring Viktor away before, he knew for sure he'd done it now.
As quickly as he had pulled Viktor close, Yuuri was pushing him away, taking a step back as tears stung at his eyes. Viktor would hate him. He just threw himself at him. How could he have been so stupid? Taking a step back, Yuuri mumbled, looking away, "I'm sorry, I-I… I have to go…"
He knew he had to get away before Viktor could tell him how stupid he was being, that this was all wrong, that he should never have done that. Yuuri didn't want to be one of those creepy fans who scared their idols. He didn't want to do this to him, but there he was, forcing himself on him. Without a second thought, Yuuri was running away, desperate to hide from everything and everyone. Suddenly his lifeline seemed more like an anchor, dragging him into the depths of his despair. He had to get away.
Author Notes: ANGSTTTTT.
A lot of this chapter is Yuuri's internal monologue, which is his self-doubt and insecurity spiraling through the same bad thoughts, so I apologise if it seems a little repetitive.
Shǒudū refers to the venue for the Cup of China. When held in Beijing, the venue is Shǒudū tǐyùguǎn, also known as the Capital Indoor Stadium.