Hey guys,

The chapter took me a while to get it right. Well, I'm still not quite happy with the last part, but I didn't want to keep you guys waiting any longer, so I decided to leave it for now.

Remember when I said that the story might be about 10 chapters long? Well… I was wrong… there's just so much in my head that I want to tell in this story, and 10 chapters really won't be enough. You're in for the long shot, I guess. Sorry.

I didn't plan for the breakfast scene to be this long (haha, I'm so bad at keeping things short), but I got carried away a little. I hope you'll like it, because I really enjoyed writing it.

Okay, enough said for now. Enjoy the chapter.

Disclaimer: I don't own Yuuri! on Ice All characters belong to MAPPA and Mitsurō Kubo

Chapter 4 I carry your heart with me

Warm morning light was falling through the drawn curtains, painting all kinds of beautiful shapes on white sheets by the time Yuuri woke and blinked against the sleepiness, long black eyelashes still heavy from the night. He could feel a comfortable weight on his chest, the warm duvet still wrapped tightly around his body as he snuggled into it.

He felt more relaxed than he had in weeks, with the soft mattress of a large bed beneath him and the silk of the sheets hugging his body. Part of him didn't want to wake up yet, but consciousness pulled relentlessly at his senses, dragging him out of dreamland and into reality.

The other side of the bed next to him was vacant. Yuuri knew it without even opening his eyes. The sheets were still slightly warm, but Victor himself was gone. Probably taking care of Makkachin, whom they'd both neglected a little the previous day.

Yuuri groaned slightly and buried his face in the soft pillow. It smelled like Victor. Everything did.

His scent was everywhere, covering Yuuri like a silken cloth – cinnamon and pine. Everywhere. It didn't bother Yuuri of course, just made it all the harder to get out of bed, because pressing his nose into the warm sheets that held Victor's smell made his heart flutter with a strange happiness.

I'm so pathetic, sometimes, he thought, grinning against the exquisite fabric. It was a little pathetic, wasn't it? To stay in bed just to feel wrapped in Victor's scent a little longer instead of just getting up and going to see the real Victor.

And Yuuri really wanted to get up. He wanted to find Victor and make breakfast with him, maybe even served in bed if they managed to get back here once their meal was ready. It would be perfect, wouldn't it? For them to share a lazy morning after such a… heated… night?

Yuuri shifted and sprawled out on the vast bed, one hand covering his face as he thought about last night. Had he really done that? Topped Victor? Good grief, where had all that eros come from? The memories were slightly blurred, but the heat in his guts told Yuuri that he'd enjoyed their switched roles very, very much.

Raising his hand from his face, Yuuri looked at the empty space next to him. Victor was gone now, but the memory of him sleeping close to Yuuri last night was still fresh. He had seemed so relaxed, at peace, so himself that it tugged painfully at Yuuri's heart to think about how often Victor put up a show for fans and reporters. The sleeping man from last night was the real Victor, the one only a few people were lucky enough to see.

And Yuuri was one of them.

A low sigh escaped his lips as Yuuri let his hand slide from his face and propped himself up, the duvet falling away from his body, exposing it to the chilly air of the room and not making it any easier to disentangle himself from the warm sheets.

Rubbing his face one last time, Yuuri drew away the curtains just enough so he could swing his legs over the edge of the bed. Outside their little enclosure the air was even colder, making goosebumps run along Yuuri's skin.

The windows were frozen; the icy winter air leaving beautifully fragile shapes and patterns on the damp glass. They were glistening in the sun and Yuuri felt the urge to get closer and press a hand against the window, but he knew he'd only touch cool glass. The ice flowers were on the outside. Astonishingly pretty to look at, but impossible to reach.

Shivering slightly, Yuuri looked around. His clothes were still packed in the boxes he'd meant to empty yesterday but had completely forgotten about once he'd gotten into that tub with Victor. Well, he'd just have to borrow something from him then, because walking around wearing nothing but the boxer briefs Victor had given him (which he'd miraculously remembered to put on after their love making) was out of the question with the apartment this cool.

"Russian winters…", he muttered, glancing around in search for something to wear. (He really didn't feel like rummaging through the closet yet, even if he would live here from now on.) Finally, his gaze locked onto a jacket. A very special one that is.

Victor's red and white Russian skating jacket was hanging innocently over the backrest of a nearby chair, looking warm and cosy and probably smelling of Victor. Yuuri's fingers itched. He knew it was a huge step into Victor's personal space, if Yuuri were to put this on, but he'd always wondered what the fabric felt like.

As Yuuri's coach, Victor had never worn this jacket. It was the last remaining item that connected Yuuri to a past where he'd been unable to even talk to Victor, but now it was there, waiting for him to take it, put it on and claim this last sign of a past that they'd both overcome.

He got up from the bed and reached out for the jacket, fingers tracing over the smooth fabric. It was slightly cool to the touch, on the outside at least, but the inner lining was quite fluffy and would keep the wearer pleasantly warm. Made for a day in a freezing ice rink.

Biting his lower lip, Yuuri took the jacket from the chair and slipped it on, the fluffy fabric oh so soft against his bare skin, hugging his arms tightly and making him feel instantly warm. He closed both his hands around the collar, bringing it up to his nose. The entire jacket smelled like Victor. Like love. Like home.

Yuuri sighed happily.

He turned on his heels, suddenly feeling a lot more energetic than just a few minutes ago, and, with a last glance back at the bed, he opened the door leading to the living room-slash-kitchen to greet a waiting Makkachin and hopefully Victor.

Victor on the other hand, was already up and about. He'd woken sometimes earlier this morning, with a sleeping Yuuri draped over him, looking absolutely content and cute beyond words. Victor could probably have stayed in bed like this for ages, if it hadn't been for the significant lack of Makkachin in his bed. All night Victor had snuggled up to Yuuri, arms draped around him and nose nuzzling him in his half-conscious state of knowing, but it had somehow slipped his mind to let his dog back in before drifting off.

Poor Makkachin wasn't used to not sharing Victor's bed and had probably been upset and hungry, while waiting for him in the main room. And Victor had been unable not to get out of bed to care for his beloved pet, careful not to wake Yuuri as he left.

With Makkachin now fed, Victor had decided to surprise Yuuri with breakfast, which lead to him currently standing in front of the stove, pan in one hand, spatula in the other and blinis happily cooking away, while a soft sigh fell from his parted lips. He ran his tongue over them, confirming what he had assumed already. They were rough and kiss bitten and a little sensitive to the touch. A slight sting, whenever his tongue pressed against a certain spot.

It was exactly where Yuuri had bitten down on, the moment he'd reached his climax a second time, cuming into Victor and leaving him exposed and vulnerable in a way nobody else ever had, because Victor had never been able to open up enough to let anyone penetrate him.

He had enjoyed sex almost all his adult life, with various partners, male and female, because Victor didn't really believe in the concept of attraction being abound to a certain gender. He much rather liked a person's nature or charisma instead of their physical features. Although he had to admit that Yuuri had both, a great personality and an innocent beauty that made Victor want to ravish him all day.

However, no matter how much Victor had liked a lover before, he'd never handed over control so thoroughly. Not until last night. And it hadn't even been Yuuri who'd asked for it, but Victor himself who'd offered to Yuuri that they should switch. There would've been other ways to satisfy Yuuri's extended stamina, other ways than for Victor to offer full penetration and everything that came with it.

But he'd done it anyway and found that no matter their position and dynamics, he could trust Yuuri. It was a strange feeling, a warmth deep inside his chest of which he hadn't known he'd missed it, until it came crashing back to him last night. First as the crippling fear that maybe Yuuri might not like what he would see once he took Victor apart piece by piece with his eyes and his hands and his mouth. And later as the bone crushing relief when Yuuri had laced their hands together in the lover's bind, grounding Victor in a moment of self-doubt.

Yuuri had wiped away all the remaining distance between them, bringing them closer than ever. Not only physically, but emotionally as well.

And Victor loved him for it.

He'd never voiced the words, not knowing if they would overwhelm Yuuri, but he wanted to say them. Wanted to tell the other man how much more he meant to Victor than anyone ever before. Wanted him to know that there was no doubt, no rift between them, but that Victor would do anything to keep Yuuri in his life. Not only for a few seasons of skating, but afterwards as well.

Victor just needed the right moment to tell Yuuri. The right moment to make it perfect and never-to-be-forgotten.

Teeth scraping over his bottom lips, Victor transferred one golden brown blini to the plate sitting on the kitchen counter next to the stove, before he added the next batch of dough to the pan. He really wasn't the best cook in the world, but he remembered his mother surprising him with blinis on Sunday mornings when he'd still lived with his parents.

To Victor, those early memories screamed of home and safety and belonging in a sense nothing else did and he hoped that maybe he could help Yuuri settle easier in Russia by copying what made Victor feel loved and welcomed.

In retrospect, maybe serving a traditional Japanese breakfast would have been better to achieve that, but as Russia had a very severe lack of comprehensive Asian supermarkets and short grain rice was not only expensive (which wouldn't have bothered Victor anyway) but also hard to come by, Victor had decided to go with what was available, hoping that Yuuri would appreciate it anyway.

And Yuuri had lived in Detroit for years. He surely had come into contact with foreign cuisine there and wouldn't mind doing the same now that he'd moved his home rink to Russia.

Nodding to himself and keeping one eye on the blinis in the pan, Victor picked up his phone from where it sat on counter. Checking his social media accounts had become a permanent feature in Victor's morning routine and while Yuuri never seemed to post anything at all, Victor enjoyed keeping his fans updated from time to time.

Victor scrolled through his Instagram feed, gaze glued to the small screen of the phone; Chris was apparently back in Geneva, training for the Swiss Nationals, after a short vacation with his long-time boyfriend. Whom Christ had of course introduced to Victor at some point in the last years, but Victor had (of course) forgotten his name. Again.

It was then, that he could hear the bedroom door being opened. Yuuri must have finally woken up.

Happy to greet his fiancé, Victor turned around, phone in one hand, spatula in the other: "Hey, Yuuri, seems Chris is back fr-", Victor stopped midsentence the moment he saw Yuuri standing in the doorway.

His face was slightly flushed and a shy smile traced along his lips. "Ohayoo, Victor", he greeted, black hair falling softly into his eyes. But far more striking than that was Yuuri's attire.

He stood one step into the room, wearing Victor's red and white Russian skating jacket. And nothing but.

Phone and spatula both slipped from Victor's suddenly numb fingers and collided with the hard wooden floor beneath his bare feet, but his mind never noticed. Breakfast was equally forgotten. All he could think of was Yuuri, standing there wearing Victor's sign of ownership with a nonchalance that bordered on ignorance, looking absolutely stunning.

His legs were bare and the jacked not even zipped up, one side of it sliding off Yuuri's chest and shoulder to reveal even more skin to Victor's burning gaze.

He looked gorgeous.

It took Victor no more than two long strides and a few seconds to reach his fiancé, lift him off his feet and swirl him around with way more force than needed for a person as small and light as Yuuri, eyes glued to where the open skating jacket met Yuuri's exposed skin.

A surprised huff escaped Yuuri's lips at the sudden assault, but he instinctively wrapped his arms around Victor's neck, muscles tensing the same way they would during a jump on the ice. A bubbly, happy laugh filled Victor's ears as Yuuri pressed his forehead against a strong shoulder.

"Victor! What are you doing?", he giggled, voice almost drowned by the laughter vibrating deep in his chest.

Instead of giving Yuuri the answer he probably deserved after being just lifted and spun around without warning, Victor just put him back down and captured his lips in a sweet and yet demanding kiss, not caring that there were still blinis cooking (and presumably burning) in the pan.

Yuuri still giggled slightly into their kiss and it left Victor with a beautiful feeling of warmth filling his chest like early morning light spilling over a soft woolen carpet. He felt so happy, he could burst.

„Yuuri", he said, vowels long and prominent, while pulling the jacket over Yuuri's exposed shoulder as if to dress him properly and shield him from any gaze that wasn't Victor's own despite the fact that they were very much alone in their apartment.

"It was a little chilly in the bedroom so I… took the liberty of borrowing your jacket… I hope that's okay", Yuuri said, flashing Victor a slightly apologetic smile as he looked up to him through thick black lashes illuminated by the morning sun.

Victor was suddenly quite grateful for his own laziness which had let him to hang the jacket over his chair instead of putting it back into the closet where it belonged. He didn't know if Yuuri would have left the bedroom wearing even less, but no matter how much Victor appreciated an (almost) naked Yuuri, nothing could compare to him in Victor's jacket. There was probably no item in his entire closet that Victor himself had worn more often and seeing it on his fiancé made him want to forget about everything they had planned for today and just push him back into their bedroom to have his way with him. With Yuuri wearing the jacket of course.

"Victor? Is everything alright?", Yuuri asked, tilting his head to the side and furrowing his brows. It was only then that Victor noticed that he hadn't given him an answer yet and probably looked like a grinning idiot to Yuuri.

"Ah, yes, yes. Everything alright", he answered, waving a hand in front of his face. It was a bit embarrassing even for him that Yuuri could throw him off his track so easily. "Just a little speechless".

"Speechless?", Yuuri echoed, he was still standing so close that his breath brushed over Victor's skin with the lightest of touches, setting his nerves on fire. It took a lot of willpower not to just scoop him up and ravish him on the kitchen counter.

"You look a little… distracting", Victor admitted, his voice deeper and richer than intended, but Yuuri's close proximity always did weird things to Victor's head.

Yuuri looked down at himself, cheeks still a little red and his lips forming a small 'o' as he realized that Victor was talking about the jacket. However, it seemed that Yuuri came to a very different conclusion for the nature of why exactly Victor was distracted. "Oh… I'm sorry… I shouldn't have… it's pretty chilly in the bedroom and my stuff is still packed so… I'm sorry… it's your jacket and I shouldn't have taken it".

"No, no. Please, don't apologize. You look… stunning".

"You… you like it? You don't think I intruded too much?"

Victor blinked for a few seconds, the words and their meaning sinking into his mind. Yuuri had apparently thought that Victor wouldn't want him to wear the jacket when actually he enjoyed it very much.

"I love it. Maybe I should hide all your other clothes while we're at home and have you walk around like this all the time", he joked (well half-joked, because really the thought was just so tempting!), flashing Yuuri a fond smile and running his index finger along Yuuri's jaw.

"Victor…", Yuuri began, suddenly furrowing his brows and tilting his head. "Does something smell burned?".

Burned? The words turned and turned in Victor's mind, it's meaning not really sinking in until Yuuri looked past him at the stove in Victor's back, where indeed a blini was still cooking in the pan. A blini Victor had totally forgotten about. A blini that was now probably burned black.

"Oh shit", he cursed, turning around while Yuuri again giggled at Victor's stunned face. He must have looked ridiculous, being so distracted by what Yuuri wore (or not) that he'd even forgotten about their breakfast. The very breakfast Victor had intended to surprise Yuuri with on his first morning in Russia.

He rushed back to the stove and cleared the pan of the blackened blini, which he disposed into the trash, trying to shield everything he was doing from Yuuri's gaze as to not only not embarrass himself further but also not to ruin the surprise. He still had enough dough left to make some more, thank God.

Fifteen minutes later, Victor looked at the amount of (unburned) blinis on the plate with Yuuri now curiously watching his every move. It didn't help that his fiancé still wore almost nothing but Victor's jacket (yes his mind had by now comprehended that Yuuri was indeed wearing boxer briefs), which made for a good enough distraction to have Victor clumsily drop the knife in his hands not only once but twice while spreading caviar on the topmost blini.

He had always enjoyed the rich and salty taste of caviar for breakfast, but he wasn't sure if Yuuri would as well and had therefore bought smoked salmon to offer an alternative to salty fish eggs, which by the way smelled delicious to Victor – like home and the open sea, all at once.

Yuuri still watched him with blatant curiosity, head tilted somewhat to the right, and stood close enough to almost lean against Victor. He could still call Yakov and tell him they'd both come down with the flu…

But his coach would see through his lie in an instant.

What a shame.

"Do you want to try them?", Victor offered while rolling the first blini into a perfect little bun, just like his mother had done all those years back. He hadn't properly cooked breakfast ever since he'd left his childhood home in Vladivostok at the tender age of eleven to come to St. Petersburg and train with Yakov. With Yuuri things were rapidly changing for the better.

"I'd love to", Yuuri answered, stepping a little closer still while Victor cut the bun into small stripes and took one of them between his thumb and index finger to feed Yuuri, who's lips were warm and silky against Victor skin and who's tongue touched his fingers ever so lightly as it curled around the slice of golden brown dough.

A very uncharacteristic sound, somewhere between a giggle and an actual laugh, escaped Victor at the feeling and Yuuri's cheeks blushed again slightly. Feeding someone with your bare hands, gazes locked while doing so, was incredibly intimate in a way that had Victor's chest practically glow with warmth.

A little bit of caviar was dripping down Yuuri's chin by the time Victor pulled his fingers back and Victor couldn't resist the urge to dip down and run his tongue over the soft skin and up to the corner of Yuuri's mouth, gathering the salty substance and pressing a soft skin to Yuuri's slightly glossy lips.

"Do you like it? If not, I also have smoked salmon to go with the blinis. I know you like salmon", Victor said, trying to sound more confident than he actually was. He'd never cooked for anyone before; had never tried to impress anyone with his cooking, let alone wanted to make them happy with it.

Yuuri licked his lips, chocolate brown eyes darting up at Victor as a smile spread on his face, warm and calm and loving. Beautiful. "It's good. I'm Japanese Victor. It's not like I don't know what caviar is", he said, voice swinging with kind amusement.

"I know, but it tastes different in Russia, so I wasn't sure", Victor explained, taking one of the blini slices and pushing it past his parted lips. It didn't taste exactly like his mother's, but Victor had never expected it to; hoped yes but not expected. However, it wasn't too bad either. The dough was soft and yet fluffy, the spices just right. He'd maybe used a little too much oil, making them greasier than intended.

"True enough, but I like it. Doesn't mean I don't want to try the salmon as well", Yuuri announced, grinning cheekily, tongue darting out to moisten his lips again, although Victor suspected him to have an ulterior motive as well. The motion just looked a little too seductive to be unintentional.

Victor nodded and finished the remaining blinis, either slathering them with caviar or spreading smoked salmon evenly on them, before rolling them into buns. Once done, he piled some on each of their plates and held one plate out for Yuuri. "Breakfast in bed?", he asked, grinning.

Yuuri took the plate from Victor and cocked one eyebrow at him. "As tempting as that sounds, we won't make it out of bed again if we go there now. And Yakov is gonna flay both of us alive if I keep you from practice on my first day ever".

As much as Victor wanted to spend the rest of the morning with Yuuri in bed, Victor knew that his fiancé was right when it came to Yakov. Victor's coach wasn't too thrilled about his student being a competitive skater and a coach at the same time and was therefore a bit wary of Yuuri's presence at the rink. It wouldn't do good to leave a bad impression on their first day.

So instead of spending a lazy morning in bed, Victor moved them both over to the sofa and pulled Yuuri in between his legs until he rested with his back against Victor's chest. Victor curled one arm around the smaller man's waist, balancing his plate on his free hand before putting it down on his bent knee. "Comfortable?", he asked, knowing that the position was a little unorthodox when it came to eating arrangements, but he really, really wanted to cuddle a little more before heading off to practice.

"Perfectly so", Yuuri replied, snuggling closer to Victor, his body relaxed and his voice content.

It was domestic.

It was nice

The rink in St. Petersburg really was something. It looked nothing like Yuuri's home rink back in Hasetsu, nor like the one he'd trained in during his days in Detroit, as it was far more classical in the western meaning of the word, than any rink Yuuri had seen so far. It looked like it had already been here since before the Russian Revolution, which was probably highly likely considering that figure skating had become popular in Europe in the 19th century already.

Yuuri still couldn't believe that Victor had willingly traded this elaborate building and everything that came with it, for a job as Yuuri's coach in Hasetsu Ice Castle. Saying Yuuri's old home rink looked meagre compared to this was putting it mildly.

The building itself was old, but in sound condition, endued with the latest cooling system to keep it open all year, even during warm Russian summers, a high end hi-fi equipment to make the best of the songs the skaters chose as their programs, even if was only for training, a gym and ballet studio and modern, pleasant locker rooms, providing the skaters with the opportunity to even spent their free time at the rink. (Who the hell had a TV in their ice rink?)

It was a little bit intimidating, but after upsetting Victor with exactly this track of thoughts, Yuuri decided to swallow his rising anxiety and try to stay calm. Victor wanted him here It wasn't wrong to relax and make good use of the improved circumstances under which he would train from now on.

Victor was to practice first today, giving Yuuri enough time to warm up his muscles and maybe even talk to the other skaters, of which he'd so far only really talked to Yurio.

"Hey, Nikiforov, can't remember you ever coming in this late", Yurio greeted them as soon as Yuuri and Victor walked through the door of the locker room, both of them dressed in sportswear, skates already on their feet and ready to get on the ice.

Getting changed with Victor had somehow calmed Yuuri's nerves. It was familiar terrain; something he'd done plenty before and that therefor gave him a sense of being in control.

Victor just raised one perfectly shaped, silver eyebrow at Yurio and shook his head. "I remember times when you barely showed up for practice at all", he answered, making Yuuri wonder when Yurio had ever let his training slide.

Certainly not since Yuuri had met the boy.

Yurio just huffed, turning his head as he leaned against the boards, elbows supporting his weight. Victor had obviously hit a nerve here.

"I'll go through my short program today, do you want to watch or do you want to practice by yourself until I'm done?", Victor asked, turning his head in Yuuri's direction, smiling at him. And Yuuri couldn't stop his treacherous lips from smiling back at him, even if he'd wanted to.

"Well, practice is always good, but I want to see you skate today. There'll be enough time for me to do my routines once you've finished", Yuuri replied. He really wanted to see Victor's Short Program after having talked about it with him via Skype for weeks before he came here; although he still not really knew what to expect.

They had talked about the SP, yes, but only about the technical part of the routine, not about the music Victor had chosen. It was to be surprise for Yuuri.

Victor nodded and pressed a soft kiss to Yuuri's temple, reminding him of why exactly they'd almost been late for training. Their shared breakfast on the couch had quickly turned into something far more pleasurable, the two men sharing soft, sweet kisses that made them forget what time it was until Makkachin had started to whine, begging to be walked.

And after said walk, they'd just gathered everything they needed before rushing to the rink as to not be late.

With the feeling of Victor's lips still tingling on his skin, Yuuri climbed up the ranks and sat down a few meters away from the rink to get a proper few of what Victor would show him. He curled his hands into fists on his thighs, anticipation rolling through him like waves. He hadn't see Victor do a routine since he'd shown him and Yurio the Eros and Agape programs.

It was only when Victor skated to the middle of the deserted rink, getting into his start position, that Yuuri realized how much he'd missed seeing his fiancé skate. It had of course been a blessing to train with him and Yuuri was grateful beyond words that Victor had come to Hasetsu to be his coach, but stealing him from the world really had been a crime.

Victor Nikiforov belonged on the ice.

The music started, notes, soft like a breeze in spring, filling the room with the beautiful sound of pianos and violins. The melody was sad, so sad that Yuuri could feel the tears burn in his eyes. A song about a loneliness that rooted deep inside Victor's heart. A plea for help, for someone to free him from the cold absence love.

Victor had told Yuuri that his theme for the rest of the season would be 'Life', but how could he choose a song this sad to represent life? Especially Victor's own life, which was a concatenation of successes.

"It's hauntingly beautiful, isn't it?", Mila asked, taking the seat next to Yuuri and smiling at him. They had never really talked to each other before, but somehow Yuuri didn't feel bad about her being there right now, even if the tears still burned in his eyes.

"Why?", he said quietly, his voice coming out rough and croaked, knowing that Mila would understand.

"Giving up your personal life to become a professional skater sometimes feels exactly like this…", Mila explained, her chin resting on her hands, elbows supported on her thighs. Deep, blue eyes were watching every one of Victor's moves; every jump and every pose. He looked so graceful, movements slow and perfectly in synch with the music. "I guess you made him realize how much he missed out on".

"Missed out on?", Yuuri asked, slightly confused. He'd always known that Victor had made sacrifices for his career. Hell, Yuuri had followed his every step since Victor had made his junior debut all those years ago; of course he knew that Victor had practically lived for skating, but Yuuri had always assumed that Victor was happy like this. Or wasn't he?

"With a life like his, a career like this, everything personal falls by the wayside. He didn't have time for his family, or friends or a partner, who would stick with him through his busy schedule. Not until you came along at least and I guess this Short Program is how he deals with those years of loneliness. He told me that he wants the Free Skate to be about the time you two spent together… so… if his theme is 'life' and the FS represents the present… I guess this is his past", Mila explained, still not looking at Yuuri but rather at Victor, just as Yuuri did himself.

He watched in silence, thinking about Mila's words while Victor skated through the heart-breaking melody with unmatched grace. He was stunning really. And by the time the last tone faded, Yuuri felt his chest burn with the desire to take that loneliness from Victor and make him forget about it.

"It's good you're here now", Mila finally said, voice still soft and low but a tiny bit more hopeful than before. "He really needs you, just as much as you need him. Maybe you can help him finish the Free Skate". She rose from her seat and flashed Yuuri a fond smile, before walking down to the rink, where Georgi was already waiting for her.

Yuuri opened and closed his mouth. He really wanted to say something to her in reply, but she was gone before he got the chance, her words still stuck in his head. Help Victor with the Free Skate? Was something wrong? Something Victor hadn't told him yet?

It was strange to think of his fiancé as someone who would need Yuuri's help for anything, but maybe Mila was right and Victor was just as lost as Yuuri had been, only in a different way. And maybe, just maybe, Yuuri could help him just as much.

He would have to talk to Victor once practice was over.

Chapter 4 End

To be continued…

Soooo… Yurio only made a very short appearance here, but we'll see a lot more of him in the chapters to come. For now, I wanted to focus on Mila. I really like her in the anime and even if she doesn't seem too close to Victor at times, I still think she cares deeply about him and might have some insight that both Yuuri and Victor lack. Hope you like her this way. She'll of course stick with us.

PS. Just in case anyone caught on the reference: Yes, Victor's past (hometown and when he came to St. Petersburg) is based off Evegni Plushenko :P