Thanks for sticking with me! This story is unfolding in ways I didn't envision when I first mapped it. As always, your reviews and love are life-giving!

Two weeks ago

Victor walked into Ice Castle, pupils narrowing as he adjusted to the stark light. Makka hopped onto one of the benches and stretched, whining happily when Victor passed a hand over his head. He stood behind the glass doors, a slight uptick on his mouth as he watched Yuuri skate his free program. He'd introduced Yuuri to it only a couple days ago and judging from the way he was currently adding his own flair to the step sequence, it was going to come along splendidly. Victor felt gratified by the sight; this was Yuuri's journey, and the routine should reflect as such. Yuuri was meticulous tonight, and his eyes sparkled as they always did when he was searching for something important.

Victor looked at his phone - 12:35 a.m. The Nishigoris certainly obliged him. The lateness alone kindled a long yawn. He did his best to shake the tiredness off him as he admired Yuuri's movements, the scratch of the ice a constant reminder of his tenacity. He must've gotten lost staring because Makka nose was suddenly against his leg.

"You ready to go boy?" Makka's head ground into him, inching him forward. Victor hadn't been planning on disturbing Yuuri but his poodle had other ideas apparently. He went behind the counter and took a pair of skates before entering the rink.

Yuuri looked up, the noise of the door easily heard since he'd thought he was the only one there. Upon seeing that it was Victor, looking like he'd been pulled out of a deep sleep, Yuuri's face was contrite. Victor skated to him with a wide smile, and blood gradually returned to Yuuri's face.

"It's okay," Victor assured, "We'll shorten practice tomorrow if we need too."

"We don't need to do that-"

"Will you skate your program with me?"

The interruption smothered the words in Yuuri's throat. It wasn't their first time going through a routine together, but it was their first time alone in the rink and be it Victor extending his hand, or the way the light brought the green specks of his iris to life, or the patch of pink in his cheeks, whatever it was, Yuuri felt unusually bashful. But, they'd been in each other's pockets for so long, this wasn't that much different. So, Yuuri took Victor's hand, willing the tremors from his own.

They moved in extraordinary unison, soft touches and tranquil gazes passing between them. Victor deemed it altogether romantic, a welcomed diversion to the monotony of sleep. Yuuri and his surprises. He wanted to spend his life discovering them.

"You're not supposed to hide things from your coach," Victor said afterwards as he neatly replaced the skates on the rack. Yuuri's reemerged sheepishness was adorable.

"Well, I've been sneaking out here for while, since I was getting fit actually," Victor arched an eyebrow, "On the nights Makka spent with you."

Victor laughed; he should've known, the action was so Yuuri-esque, "I never thought I'd meet someone as stubborn as me."

Yuuri smiled, "How did you figure it out?"

"I got up to use the bathroom and I just...wanted to check on you. You seemed far today. When I saw you and your equipment gone, it was obvious where you were." Yuuri shaked his head profusely, having caught the diminished cheer in his voice. It was momentary, but Yuuri was used to many of Victor's tells now. The last thing he wanted to do was worry his coach, or imply that he was disappointed with their sessions.

"I wasn't far because of you," Yuuri said quickly, "I was thinking about the routine. I get carried away with my thoughts sometimes."

They shut off the lights and exited the rink, Makka joining them as they began a slow stroll home. Victor pressed a chaste kiss to the posterior of Yuuri's hand, murmuring in Russian. Yuuri knew the gesture communicated praise, and he knew Victor was tired, hence the slip from English. He leaned against Victor's arm without ambivalence. Skating with him always made these moments so much easier to grasp.

"Hey Victor," Yuuri said, his eyes roaming to the sky, "What do you like most about Hasetsu?"

Victor was occupied with the weight of Yuuri against him; being this close to him at this time of night, with his sleepiness lowering his defenses, it took effort to concentrate. He would need a very cold shower when he got back to Yu-topia, "Why do you ask?"

"Just curious," Yuuri explained, "I've asked about St. Petersburg. I've been meaning to include this question in a Makka note, but I forgot."

Victor gave it his full attention, "Hmm. The food is amazing, especially your mother's katsudon. Did I say it right?" Yuuri nodded, loving how the word sounded in Victor's accent, "I can't remember when I've indulged so much. Your family is wonderful. Everyone is so friendly and accepting. I love going to the ocean, though I think Makka loves it ten times more," Makka barked excitedly at the word 'ocean', "There's so much I love about Hasetsu. But..."

Yuuri was nervous, "But?"

"My favorite thing about here..." Say it. "It's you Yuuri."

"Me?" Victor frequently showered Yuuri with attention. It had taken some getting used too, but Yuuri couldn't imagine going a day without it now. However, walking late at night, shrouded in the soft glow of street lights, and under a rather scenic night sky, Yuuri couldn't help but feel that Victor wasn't being his usual dramatic self. He studied him for some hint, unsure of how to interpret the answer. What exactly was he trying to tell him? It couldn't be what he thought it was. Attention didn't naturally equate that...did it?

"Yes. You," Victor's smile was different tonight, Yuuri realized. Less heart-shaped excitement and more quiet truth, "Being here, being your coach, this is the happiest I've been in years."

"Victor..." Yuuri was fumbling now, "I don't...I'm not anything special." Victor put an arm around his shoulder, allaying his mumbles.

"You are to me."

And that was that. Yuuri couldn't rebut if he tried. When no suitable responses formed in his mind, he went for the next best thing. He slipped an arm around Victor's waist, like they'd done a hundred times since Victor had kissed the cut on his head, and beamed, "Let's get some ramen."

"Yeah?" Yuuri had his own way of vocalizing his feelings and Victor always looked forward to the small gestures that followed his own candor.

"Yeah."

Present

Yuuri had no idea what was going on but Yuri Plisetsky, the Russian Fairy, renowned Junior Champion, was standing in Ice Castle looking permanently vexed. Maintaining that attitude had to require a level of physical endurance more rigid than that required for skating. Even from this distance, Yuuri felt disturbed by his aura. Victor gave a charming wave, which only served to piss Yuri off further.

"Yuri, I didn't expect to see you Japan! What are you doing here?" The complete one-eighty of his tone made Yuuri go stiff. The jarring contrast of it to half a minute ago was too much to handle.

"WHY DO YOU THINK?!" Yuri bellowed. Yuuri glanced over at Yuuko, wondering how she was managing with all the shouting, and rolled his eyes when he saw that she'd gone full skater otaku. She caught his eye and pointed excitedly at the compact Russian.

Victor began to skate away but Yuuri, still rooted in their previous moment, slipped his hand into Victor's own. Victor looked back but Yuuri wasn't focused on him or anything in particular. His expression was strange, haunting even, something Victor had never seen before.

"I fucked up," Yuuri said, "I hurt you. I want to fix this." Victor gave his hand a little squeeze. It was non-committal, Yuuri could feel it, and it made his insides hollow. Had he unwittingly made things more complex with his blunt question? He'd had no right to demand anything from Victor before he himself apologized and in much more than three sentences. When Victor slipped away from him, the cold air that passed through his fingers rocked him to the core. He pulled his sleeve back down and followed his coach.

"Is this a usual practice session?" Yuri sneered, "Standing on the ice making small talk? Yakov would have your head."

"Yakov has a range of emotions he can display," there was Victor's animated voice again; Yuuri shoved his hands in his pockets to hide his clenched fists, "And for you it will be rage when he finds out you're here."

"Let the old man rant. I don't care," he fixed his Japanese counterpart with a fiery glare, "I would expect you to be deep in practice piggy. Or is Sochi still holding you back?"

Yuuri bristled; was this guy fucking serious? "I didn't realize you being here for five seconds made you an expert on what I have and haven't accomplished for next season."

Victor and Yuuko, mouths open, closed them slowly, taken aback. They'd both been about to tell Yuri to calm down; things really didn't need to escalate more than it already had. Victor watched the way Yuuri's shoulders squared off, the perfect line of his back, the steely glow in his eyes, the thin line of his lips. He looked gorgeous. This minor rebellion was in stark contrast to the response he'd given to the media storm. The pictures were having the right effect, the one Victor had hoped for. But...he still didn't know if he was ready to face Yuuri's question. Why did he have to go for the jugular like that?

Yuri smirked, "Well, that's good to know because I need to borrow Victor for a few days."

"WHAT?!" Yuuko squealed and Yuuri growled. Victor seemed to be considering the reasons for the demand.

"Ah," he said finally, "Agape."

"Yes Victor," Yuri's temper was giving way to his second nickname, the Russian Punk, "I came to collect the latter half of my routine."

Yuuri's head snapped towards Victor, "You choreographed a routine for him?"

"Half a routine," Yuri corrected with a pointed frown, "The other half went with him the day he upped and left St. Petersberg. Thanks for that by the way," he spat.

Victor chuckled though he didn't want too because Yuuri's expression had morphed again and he couldn't decipher it, "I told Yakov."

"You left me with an incomplete routine you asshole!" Yuri was ready to pop, "So I've come to collect and seeing as your little piggy is so comfortable in his abilities, a few days shouldn't be a problem."

Truthfully, Victor may have forgotten his priorities upon watching Yuuri skate Aria: Stay Close To Me. The decision to coach Yuuri simply took hold and there he was, booking a flight to Japan. He looked between the two, Yuri clearly showing he wouldn't take no for an answer, and his Yuuri appearing increasingly obscure, his eyes like black coffee, fixated on him, and...oh...oh.

Possessive.

Yuuri was jealous.

Victor did not know how to respond to that. Any other day before their fight, and he would know. Now, it made the decision he was about to make feel spiteful. That wasn't his intention, he hadn't known Yuri would come all the way to Japan. Fuck, this was all so frustrating.

"Okay Yuri," Victor pointed at his Russian colleague, "I'll finish Agape with you. I should've showed it to you before I left. My apologies," he pointed to Yuuri, "You and I can continue our morning sessions. I'll take Yuri in the afternoons."

Yuuko held up her hands, "I'm getting a headache. Let's clear up this name confusion now, please? Do you mind if we call you Yurio?"

Yuri (now Yurio) wanted to curse but Yuuko was grinning at him and somehow, her sprightly attitude calmed him some, "Fine, but it never leaves Hasetsu."

"Deal!" she said with less cheerfulness because Yuuri was feeding her a look of faint disbelief.

"I'm fine with your schedule Victor," Yurio confirmed, "Unless Mr. Tall, Dark and Expressionless has something to say." They all turned to Yuuri. It was true, he appeared to having an out-of-body experience. Yuuko snapped her fingers and Yuuri reacted with a slight frown.

"Victor is my coach. I respect any decision he makes." Yuuri shrugged, and made to move back into position but Victor stopped him.

"Not today. You need to rest."

"Victor, I am fine." He punctuated each word with unhidden exasperation.

"No, you're not," Victor insisted, "I won't have you getting injured. Listen to your coach, for once." There was something softer in his appearance, but Yuuri saw right through it. He was stalling. Asking about the hotel room had been a premature move.

Yuuri was not a fan of getting backed into a corner in front of anyone, especially their new guest. Yurio's insufferable smirk was so fucking annoying. Yuuri briefly acknowledged his previous response to Yurio's ridicule; not weak and bumbling but clear and caustic. He wasn't a rude person by any means, but the morning had taken an unprecedented turn that he didn't like or want.

What choice did he really have though? Sullenly, he guarded his skates and left the rink with Yuuko. Victor's eyes followed him as he left, hoping he hadn't just dug them into a deeper hole.

"I wonder if it's occurred to him that I'm staying at Yu-topia," Yurio mused contemptuously, "Shame, I wanted to see the look on his face."

"He's what?" Yuuri looked at the luggage next to Yu-topia's entrance, then to Minako, then to Hiroko and back again, "Seriously?"

"Come on dear," his mother guided him inside, "Let's get you some tea to calm down."

Minako followed closely, reading Yuuko's messages, "We should prepare for the press," she said, "I'm sure someone will recognize Yuri...Yurio soon. His fans are one thing, but reporters-"

"If they come near my establishment again..." Hiroko snarled, leaving the rest of her feelings to the worst of their interpretations. His mother's fervent voice made Yuuri feel miles better. He took the tea she'd brewed for him and inhaled it, and for a moment he forgot about the insanity of the past few days. His feet refreshed his thinking with an abrupt pang and he nearly dropped his tea.

"Minako, do you mind helping me with something?" Yuuri framed his tone as light as possible, not wanting to alert his mother to any trouble.

"Sure."

"Mom, we'll be upstairs." Minako took some tea for herself and they headed to Yuuri's room. He made a pit stop to collect some first aid paraphernalia before joining her and locking his door. When he took off his t-shirt and shoes, Minako nearly slapped him.

"YUURI! What the hell happened?!"

He sighed again; he was going to be doing that a lot today it seemed, "I may have ran jumps for, I don't know, three hours? Four? I lost count. I didn't land many of them, as you can see."

"That's why Victor sent you home. How did he even see these?" She didn't mention their fight, but it was clear she had the sense to know they hadn't slept in the same bed last night.

Yuuri surveyed the damage, "He saw the ones on my arm. He knew because of course he would. He knows when I'm in top form."

"Sometimes I feel Victor tries to hide how brilliant he is just for moments like these," Minako pointed to his bed, "Sit. Let's deal with this. Do you want to ice it first?"

"No. It doesn't matter now," he raised his feet off the ground; they were smarting consistently again, "Don't tell mom. Please."

"Fine," she huffed, busying herself with getting the first aid prepped, "But you have to give me something. These bruises are not pretty."

Yuuri flinched as she started spreading ointment; a stinging, burning sensation gradually melded into a cool release. He'd really neglected himself last night, "You already know what happened Minako."

"Yeah, I do but what I want to know is why? I thought you left that kind of detachment in Detroit."

"I did," he said bitterly, "I panicked yesterday. I honestly thought I was doing the right thing," Yuuri felt a relaxing tingle down his spine as Minako moved to check his back, "The whole thing happened so fast. I..." Yuuri dropped his head in his hands, "I never realized until last night how hard it is not having Victor with me. He was right there and I couldn't go to him. The way he looked at me this morning, I deserved it but fuck."

"Did you apologize?"

"I was trying too. Enter Russian Yuri and now I'm relegated to rest status. This is fucking ridiculous."

"Victor wasn't wrong Yuuri. These needed attention. Hold on, let me run a bath for your feet." While she prepared, Yuuri took hold of Victor's watch. He doubted Victor knew he had it. He kept running his thumb over it until Minako returned with a warm bath and salts. Yuuri's entire body shook with delight at the relief his feet experienced when he immersed them.

"What's that about?" Minako gestured to the watch.

"It's Victor's."

"I've never seen him wearing a watch though," Yuuri frowned and she laughed, teasing, "Don't give me that look. Your boyfriend is a vision. You're lucky all I'm doing is looking."

"He's not-"

"Don't dare finish that sentence," Minako sounded irritated, "I thought you were coming to your senses?"

"I'm just trying to be practical Minako," he said defensively, "We haven't had that conversation. Thinking about it, we haven't talked about this in much detail. I mean, he's always been close to me, saying a lot of things that I just accepted as Victor being Victor, until two days ago."

She was contemplative, "Victor being Victor huh? What's one of those things he said?"

"Hmm," Yuuri smiled at the memory, "I snuck out for a late night skate and he found me. We were walking home and I asked what he liked most about Hasetsu. He said me."

Minako wondered if the man could be any more in love with Yuuri, "What did you think when he said that?"

"I...well, I didn't know what to think. Part of me felt like he was trying to tell me he liked me but it seemed too much, like I was projecting my own feelings onto him," Yuuri looked at the watch and felt sharp twinge that wasn't linked to his injuries, "I guess I was wrong. He dropped this in my hotel room in Sochi."

Minako smiled, "Well now."

She didn't look surprised and Yuuri frowned, "What do you know?"

"I didn't know that part," she admitted, "But I figured something happened between the two of you all. It explains a lot about Victor's first night here," she paused, and decided to throw Yuuri a line, "Yuuri, did you know you asked Victor to coach you?"

"I DID WHAT?!" Yuuri couldn't rise the way he wanted to or risk tipping over the salt bath. He used his fists to push himself up, because he needed to make some kind of movement to ease his shock.

"He didn't say Sochi, but it fits," she put a band-aid over one of the nastier bruises, "He said you were drunk and you wouldn't remember. That was all I managed to get from him. Do you know what else happened that night?"

Yuuri, still stunned, related the story of the banquet dance and the pictures he'd seen yesterday, specifically the one with Victor holding his hand. On an afterthought, he told her how Victor had approached him when he'd checked out of the hotel, a move he'd never understood since they hadn't talked during the GPF. Minako looked entranced by the whole thing.

"So, a public dance, a stolen encounter in your room, a missing watch, and a bold request. Anything else?"

Yuuri's head went from side to side; words were lost on him at this point. Minako gave him a once over before adding some more salts to the bath. She sat next to him and ruffled his hair.

"Yuuri, I'm not trying to give you shit for what happened. I know you get anxious and your first instinct in to put distance between yourself and the thing. I just want you to understand what Victor's mindset was from the moment he walked into Yu-topia. It's more than coaching you, or making you his protege, or seeing you to the Grand Prix. I don't know about you, but I would be so scared to even conceive of taking a risk like that. Jumping on a plane, leaving my life behind, knowing rejection was a possibility. Perhaps if I did, I would have what you do," she smiled nostalgically, "Victor told me not to say anything, and breaking a promise to that man makes me feel dirty, but if this is what it takes to keep you in the right frame of mind for your next conversation, then so be it."

Yuuri nodded, grateful for the information. He leaned on Minako and she rubbed his shoulder comfortingly, "You love him too, don't you?" She couldn't help but get a little teary-eyed when she registered the faintest 'yes' from her longtime student.

Yurio followed every minute detail of Victor's movements as he skated the entirety of On Love: Agape. The routine was the complete opposite of his Russian Punk persona, exquisite in the emotions it conveyed. When Victor had first suggested Agape and played the music for him, he'd been a cheeky bastard about it. It seemed so outside his usual repertoire.

It was only after Victor asked him to visualize what unconditional love meant to him that his mind drifted to the one person who embodied that sentiment, his grandfather, the light of his whole life. The realization brought with it a relaxation in his form and emotions Yurio never thought he'd show on the ice. Seeing Victor's full choreography made him crave pirozhki something fierce.

"I see you've been refining your feelings for this program," Victor said, recognizing the fondness in Yurio's eyes, "That's good. Let's run it through." Yurio nodded slowly, noticing how differently Victor was holding himself. His assertiveness was there, but so was something else. Something vulnerable.

"Were you drinking last night?" Yurio narrowed his eyes as they got into position.

"No. Why?"

"You look a little pale."

Victor gave Yurio one of those insufferable smiles that he knew the teen hated, "Getting quite observant, aren't we?"

Yurio took a deep breath, not wanting to lose his center, "You're a piece of fucking work, you know that?"

They ran the program a couple times, until Yurio was comfortable with the latter half of it. Yuuko and her daughters were front and center, filming for Yuuri's later reference. Yuuko didn't fail to notice the way Victor kept glancing at the door. He'd told Yuuri to go home and yet, he was repeatedly looking for him. She sighed and unlocked her phone; she'd been so starstruck seeing Yuri Plisetsky in the flesh that she'd forgotten the tension between Victor and Yuuri.

Hey, I'm sorry about earlier. I got carried away. I hope I didn't make things more uncomfortable for you. /Yu

You don't need to apologize Yuuko! I could never be upset with you. How's everything going? /Y

It's fine so far. They've been on the ice for a while. I'll keep you posted. /Yu

"That was awesome!" Axel yelled as Victor and Yurio finished another run, and her sisters followed with similar exuberant sentiments. Yurio couldn't help but give a short, rare smile.

"They're cute," he admitted, "Are they always here?"

"As often as they can be. They're quite attached to Yuuri."

"And you?"

Victor wasn't expecting that. He faced Yurio who fixed him with a sharp glare, "I'm his coach Yuratchka."

The younger Russian had no appreciation for Victor's glibness, "Are you high Vitya? Literally everyone saw the reports. I didn't realize you were both so serious about switching careers to danseurs."

Victor was in no mood to entertain this, "And I didn't realize I owed you an explanation."

Yurio stared at him critically, "I hope you know what the fuck you're doing." And with that he began the routine again. Victor watched him skate, eyebrows furrowed; if he didn't know better, he would swear that Yurio was trying to sound protective.

Yuuri, doing as Victor had instructed, spent much of the day in bed. He half expected Victor to send a message or even a Makka note but things were silent save for Yuuko's updates. He buried his head in his pillow, his eyes glassy; it was excruciating how much he missed having Victor around him. He tried not to think about why Yurio was in Hasetsu. Yuuri didn't believe for a second that it was for a routine, but the remaining possibilities all ended with Victor on a plane and he had no more space in his mind for negative thoughts.

Intermittently, Minako checked on him. She stayed late into the evening and gave Hiroko a hand with Yu-topia. Thankfully, no reports had dropped yet, but it was only a matter of time and she really wanted to be the one to tell them to fuck off.

Yurio and Victor returned around dinnertime, arms filled with shopping. Hiroko chuckled at how much they looked like proper tourists. She took some bags from Yurio's arms amidst his protests that he could handle the weight.

"Sightseeing?" she smiled brightly and Victor could see Yurio getting lost in her motherly charm.

"Victor insisted," Yurio muttered, but he did look like he'd enjoyed himself. Hiroko corralled them to the dining room, bringing out pork cutlet bowls for the two men. As the scrumptious aroma invaded his nostrils, Yurio forgot to be a punk. He dove into the food, ravenous.

"This is amazing, holy..." he glanced around at the room, "wow." And he continued piling food into his mouth. Hiroko clapped her hands, pleased with his reaction.

"Have as much as you want Yurio," she beamed, before glancing at Victor. He recognized that look well; 'I've run this hot-spring for a long time. You get a good sense of people after a while.' She smiled at him and proceeded to pour Yurio something to drink.

Victor took advantage of Yurio's forceful appetite, covertly nudging Minako, "Is Yuuri doing okay?"

She nodded, "For the most part. Want to go check on him?"

"I..." he began but his eyes were drawn away from her as Yuuri chose that moment to make his entrance. He was rubbing his eyes, and stretching, and Victor's gaze traveled to the bare patch of skin visible above his waistband.

Yuuri yawned and blinked, and then realized that the room was filled. Yurio sat facing away from him, deep in in a pork cutlet bowl, Victor was staring at him in a way that made his knees wobble, and his mother was swiftly handing him a steaming mug of tea because that was the solution to all things stressful today.

"Come have some dinner."

"Can you bring it up? I have some emails to send." He avoided her eyes because he knew what she really wanted to say, and he wasn't ready to consider giving Yuri Plisetsky a chance.

"Are you sure dear?"

Yuuri surveyed the piles of bags and souvenirs. He had no right to feel it but the jealousy was riding his back. He needed to get it off before he said something else he regretted, "I'm sure." He kissed his mom for reassurance, gave Victor an apologetic nod, and left the dining room.

"Can I have another?" Yurio said breathlessly, failing to notice the tense atmosphere he now sat in. As far as he was concerned, he'd just found the food of the gods. It was almost as perfect as his grandfather's pirozhki.

Yurio would happily sleep in the hot springs if it was allowed. He lamented that they couldn't take a picture since it was against policy but quickly got over it as he sunk further into the water. The place wasn't a hovel, far from it. It was heaven.

He glimpsed a figure at the door, but it turned out to be a Yu-topia guest. He frowned at Victor, "Something wrong with your little piggy?"

"Hmm?"

"What's going on with him?" he pressed.

"Yuuri had a hard practice yesterday," Victor said, circumventing the meat of the question.

Yurio sighed, "Fine. Are you planning to come back to Russia after the Grand Prix?"

"I haven't really given it much thought," Liar, "We've been busy prepping for the season. Why? Are you asking me to come back?"

"Would you consider it?"

Victor fed him another one of those damn smiles, "Did you call Yakov?"

He scowled at the evasion and the reminder, "Goddamnit. Do I have to?"

"As your interim coach, I say yes, you do. It's better he hears it from you than the press." Yurio cursed darkly and rose from the water. He toweled and slipped into a robe before heading to Victor's room for his phone (they were still clearing a temporary room for him downstairs). He found Yuuri there, playing with an excited Makka.

"Finally out of hibernation?" Yurio asked. Yuuri's reserved demeanor goaded him on, "Don't let me stop you. I'm not sure if Victor told you but I might have to sleep here tonight since they don't have a room ready for me."

Yuuri stood and motioned to Makka to follow but not before Yurio took him by the arm. It wasn't tight, or threatening, but it was firm, "What do I have to say to you to get you to talk to me?"

"Considering that all you've done since you got here is insult me, I'm pretty sure there isn't much you could say." Yuuri was tired. He didn't want to be accommodating or polite. He just wanted to steal Makka, tend to his heart in private, get a proper night of sleep, and get back on the ice tomorrow. Only then could he deal with the reality of Yurio.

Yurio stared at him for a moment, then leaned in close to his ear, "I saw you in Sochi, crying in the bathroom," Yuuri went completely rigid, "Tell me, what kind of skater doesn't retire after that performance? You really think having Victor as your coach will change what you're capable of?"

The only thing that stopped Yuuri from biting back was Yurio's tone. Surprisingly, it wasn't laced with attitude, and the questions weren't meant to be rhetorical, quite the opposite. He seemed to want an honest answer.

After a few seconds, Yuuri spoke, "I was always capable Yurio and I'll fight to prove it. Victor choose to come here, so you can take up the last part of that question with him."

"I will. In the meantime," he let Yuuri's arm go, "I look forward to seeing you on the ice."

Yurio was sprawled out on the futon, snoring, the pork cutlet bowls having done their job. Victor silently exited his room and stood staring down the hall. There was an indistinct light coming from Yuuri's room. He'd probably left his desk lamp on.

Victor took a deep breath and made his way there, knocking tentatively, "Yuuri?"

It took longer than usual, but Yuuri eventually opened his door. Victor realized why when he saw his disheveled hair and tired eyes. The light was faint but he could see about five bluish marks on Yuuri's upper body. He ached to touch his lips to every one of them.

"Victor? Is something wrong?" Yuuri asked through a heavy yawn.

"I didn't mean to wake you. Just checking on...Makka." He watched the poodle who was curled on the right side of Yuuri's bed.

"I hope it's okay. I, um, didn't get any sleep last night," Yuuri said slowly, waking up enough to realize he wasn't wearing sufficient clothes, and that his bruises were on full display.

Victor nodded, "How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine," Yuuri rubbed his neck, feeling very exposed, "No pain. Feet are back to normal."

"Good," Victor breathed, "Nine a.m. tomorrow?"

"Sure."

Neither of them moved. Victor didn't want to go back to his room and Yuuri didn't want him too either. There was so much to say, so much that needed explaining. Why did it have to be so hard? Yuuri pushed his hair back, fully awake now, drawing courage from the fact that Victor was standing there, putting himself on the line when he could've easily stayed in his room. He was still fighting to meet him halfway, even when Yuuri didn't deserve it.

Phichit's voice rang clear in his mind: Well, I think it's time for you to meet him where he is.

"Victor, I didn't mean it. You're not a mistake. All you've ever done is be there for me. Having you as my coach and having you with me...kissing you, sleeping with you," Loving you, "It means everything to me. I...I know you have every reason not to trust me and I understand if you need more time. I just want you to know that none of it was a mistake," tears lined Yuuri's cheeks, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry Victor, for everything. I have to fix this. Please tell me I can fix this. Please tell me I haven't lost you."

"You...you haven't," Victor was cycling through several emotions from Yuuri's speech, "But...I'm not ready. I...I can't answer your question tonight."

That was enough, "Okay. Wait here." Yuuri went to his bed and reached near to Makka's feet. Victor watched curiously as Yuuri walked back to him, looking down at his closed fist. Using his free hand, Yuuri cupped Victor's own, the touch warm and electric, and with a small smile returned the watch to its rightful owner. A muted cry escaped Victor's lips. He was sure he was hallucinating. Yuuri had kept it? All this time? Why?

Yuuri curled Victor's fingers around the watch, and then kissed his hand, "Goodnight zvezda moya."