Work Text:
GoldSkate88 has logged in
Yuuri’s heart skipped a beat as the small window came up in the upper right of the screen. He took a moment to compose himself, not wanting to seem too eager.
This was ridiculous.
Phichit had only mentioned a couple of months ago about this great figure skating forum he had found, and aside from skating itself, it seemed to have taken over Yuuri’s life. More specifically, a certain user had.
Yuuri drummed his fingers anxiously on the desk. Phichit had gone out for the night with his fellow Zoology students, and Yuuri was alone in their dorm room. As always, his gaze turned to the poster of Viktor Nikiforov tacked directly above the desk and to his right. The lamplight made him look even more ethereal than usual, something Yuuri wasn’t entirely sure was possible… and yet, somehow every time Yuuri looked at this picture he found something even more magical to marvel at. He kept staring at it as he waited for his heart rate to settle… a futile endeavour.
Yuuri hadn’t expected anything as he created a profile for himself on the forum. He had been scrolling through it for a couple of weeks now, watching discussions unfold, but not entering. He had even noted a couple of notorious skaters on there; Phichit was obviously one, with the ever-so-inventive username “Phichit”, but he had also spotted another couple of names he had recognised from competitions too, such as “King_JJ”, “LDL_Iglesia” and “GH_Ji”. They all seemed to enter discussions with fervour, and the other people on the forum who were not professional skaters enjoyed having a means to interact with the popular youngsters. When Yuuri eventually became confident enough to pitch in to discussions, he decided he still wanted to remain anonymous. It wasn’t as if he was famous or anything. He wasn’t Viktor. But he did have a reasonable presence in Japan, and people who paid attention in his home country may have overloaded him with messages. And thus his less conspicuous username was created.
He had only been using the forum for a couple of weeks when he saw GoldSkate88 begin entering the threads. Whenever there were heated discussions about the components of a particular skater’s programme, or the music, or even the costumes they had chosen, GoldSkate88 and Yuuri seemed to share each other’s opinions. GoldSkate88 must have picked up on this too, as about a week later he private messaged Yuuri, wanting to talk about a particular female skater’s routine.
That first night was like opening a door Yuuri didn’t know he had been looking for. They talked all night, moving away from skating and discovering they shared other interests too. They were both dog lovers, they both liked the beach, they had both gotten into skating at a young age and skated themselves (though both seemed tentative to expand). They even discussed things that were taboo to most, such as religion and politics. They discovered that each were very liberal, and had come from backgrounds where their views were not exactly welcomed or shared. Yuuri didn’t push GoldSkate88 to expand, but he could feel the same pang in his heart when he spoke, knowing they were on the same page.
Yuuri had never had a friendship like this before. He knew GoldSkate88’s innermost beliefs, his desires, his favourite skating routines… but he didn’t know much else. He didn’t know what he looked like, he knew he lived in Europe but not specifically where, he didn’t know his profession… he didn’t even know his name!
When Phichit had discovered Yuuri was using the forum more and more, he became curious. “Who’s GoldSkate88?” Phichit asked in Yuuri’s ear one day, reading over his shoulder. “Phichit! This is a private conversation!” Yuuri yelled, but his friend just broke into an adorable wide, toothy grin. After that, Phichit would tease him, asking him constantly if he had spoken to him that day, was he going to speak to him today, and all other manner of questions that Yuuri didn’t even know the answer to himself.
“I think it’s good!” Phichit laughed. “You deserve to have someone” he claimed, sincerely.
“I do not have someone”, Yuuri responded. “I’m just chatting with someone online.”
But Yuuri knew that wasn’t quite true.
GoldSkate88: Good morning :)
Yuuri’s anxiety lessened. He was desperate to talk to his friend, but he never liked to be the one to initiate the conversations. Somehow he felt like he was intruding on whatever they might be doing. Maybe they were just logging in to quickly check on a thread they were active in, or maybe they were just responding to someone else’s message. Maybe they had been talking to loads of others the same way he had been messaging Yuuri over this past month and a half.
Katsu92: Good evening~
GoldSkate88: Of course. Bon soir. How are we today?
Katsu92: Good, thanks ( ^__^ ) You?
GoldSkate88: The day has barely began, but good so far. Busy yesterday!
Katsu92: Working?
GoldSkate88: Skating ;)
Katsu92: Ah. Have fun?
GoldSkate88: It’s routine. And what have you been up to today Katsu?
Katsu92: Studying ( – ﹏ – )
GoldSkate88: Good boy!
Yuuri couldn’t help the smile that was creeping across his face. Every time he spoke with this man that he didn’t even know, he felt so warm, like they had known each other for years. He almost felt as comfortable talking with him as Phichit.
They began to talk about something that had been in the news that day, and Yuuri could feel the excitement flowing through the computer as his companion typed. There was no feeling that compared to seeing that little bouncing dot on his screen, knowing that on the other end, somewhere in Europe, GoldSkate88 was excitedly tapping away on his keyboard. He was definitely the more talkative of the two, and initiated most of their conversations. Yuuri was thankful for this. He had always been a good listener, and it took him time to open up to the people he grew close to. Although he could hold his own in a discussion, and became decidedly more talkative with a touch of alcohol in his system, he preferred to be an observer, a people-watcher, absorbing conversations around him.
They spoke for a couple of hours before saying their goodbyes, which always ended in the same way, with Yuuri giving in to his body’s demand for sleep. If he could have his way he would stay up all night, but Yuuri usually only managed to log on at about 9pm, and he needed to rise early to skate before lectures.
Katsu92: IKR? Anyway, I should probably log off now to be awake in class (‘﹏*๑)
GoldSkate88: Of course :) I’m sorry for keeping you so late!
Katsu92: No need to apologise ( ^__^ )
GoldSkate88: As always, it has been a pleasure ;) Good night my little Katsu :)
Yuuri was pretty sure he fainted on the spot. Who was this guy?
Katsu92: ( ^__^;;) Good night. Or rather, have a good rest of your day!
GoldSkate88: I will now I’ve had the pleasure of speaking to you :P
Katsu92: Bye x
GoldSkate88: xxxxxxxxxx
GoldSkate88 has logged out
Yuuri was throwing himself into his skating with fervour this season. He had finally been able to perfect a couple of new jumps, and Celestino had choreographed him an excellent programme for the forthcoming season that would showcase his new talents. He got up early, went to the Detroit Skate Club for practice, then attended lectures in the day. He was trying to get to sleep early, but GoldSkate88 was making that difficult.
Yuuri had found out his assignments for the Grand Prix in the summer and was delighted with them, but as time drew nearer he became more and more nervous. He was going to be going to Skate Canada at the end of October in a couple of weeks, and the NHK Trophy in Japan at the end of November, meaning he would get to see his family.
Yuuri was desperate to tell his online friend, but he also knew that revealing his identity might make it awkward for him during competition, knowing he would be watched by him. Besides, this way he could get GoldSkate’s opinion of him anonymously to find out what he thought. It was like a masochistic method of public critique.
GoldSkate88: You are in America, no?
Katsu92: Yes, why?
GoldSkate88: State?
Katsu92: Michigan.
GoldSkate88: I’ll be in your neck of the woods soon, as they say ;)
Katsu92: You will?! When?
GoldSkate88: Next week! I know this is sudden, but would you like to meet? I will be busy so I won’t have much time, but I could certainly make time for my Katsu :)
Yuuri felt dizzy. His stomach dropped.
What was he meant to do?
Was this something he wanted?
It would certainly be interesting to finally meet him, but suddenly the reality of not really knowing his friend’s identity dawned on him. What if he was horrible in person? What if he spoke next to no English and had been translating online this whole time? And what if he recognised Yuuri as a skater and thought he was terrible?
That wasn’t even taking in to account the fact that next week Yuuri would be trying to cram in as much practice as he could before heading to Skate Canada.
His gut twisted as he realised he just wouldn’t be able to do it.
Katsu92: I’m so sorry, I can’t ( -__- ) I have a really busy week because I’m going away the week after ( -__- )
GoldSkate88: Oh.
GoldSkate88: That’s okay! Don’t worry! Maybe we will meet someday ;)
Katsu92: Sorry again. Are you here for anything interesting?
GoldSkate88: No, just work. So tell me about your day little Katsu :)
The next week was at hectic as anticipated. Yuuri’s costumes were finalised, he had spoken to all of his professors, his performance was as good as it could be at this stage, and he was starting to get that slightly nervous but competitive twist in his stomach he always did before competitions.
But he couldn’t stop thinking about GoldSkate88. What had he meant when he said he was in Yuuri’s “neck of the woods”? America? The Northern States? Michigan? Detroit? Was he near to Yuuri without him even knowing?
After a particularly gruelling day of practice, Phichit and Yuuri relaxed in front of the TV and settled in for a night of skating. Today was the start of the Grand Prix, and Yuuri"s first chance to scope out fellow competitors for the season. Of course, there would be some expected faces there, but there were bound to be some new qualifiers the pair were as yet unaware of. And anyway, there was another reason to watch as well.
“Are you excited to see Viktor?” Phichit asked enthusiastically. Yuuri smiled as his Thai friend answered for him: “Of course you are! Sorry, I didn’t even really need to ask that, did I?” He chuckled.
But Yuuri felt almost… guilty. For once in his life, Viktor Nikiforov wasn’t really the one on his mind. He was still wondering where GoldSkate88 was. A thought flickered through his mind as quick as lightning: what if he was at Skate America? It could be a possibility. Yuuri knew he was into skating after all, and it was taking place just a state over in Wisconsin. But he had said he was travelling for work. Maybe it was just a coincidence, after all. He swallowed down the thought. He had to concentrate on the competition.
And as those thoughts flew from his mind, Viktor glided beautifully onto the ice.
It was the day before he was due to leave for Alberta, and Yuuri stood in his room packing his things. Suddenly he heard a familiar ping on the computer behind him which made him stop in his tracks. The forum had been, understandably, extremely busy the past few days, and Yuuri had delved into the discussions. But that alert, was a message noise. Not one he had heard for several days.
Yuuri put down the jumper he had been in the middle of folding and made his way over to the computer, sitting gingerly down on the chair.
GoldSkate88: You’re online!
GoldSkate88: Missed you, Katsu.
And then Yuuri got that feeling again. He was sinking, falling.
He had tried to ignore it, but he couldn’t.
He was actually developing feelings for a man whose name he didn’t even know.
Katsu92: I didn’t go anywhere (‐＾▽＾‐)
GoldSkate88: I know, I know. Sorry!
Katsu92: Did you have a good week?
GoldSkate88: Pretty good, yes. How about you?
Katsu92: Exhausting but fun. Did you see Skate America?
GoldSkate88: I did.
Katsu92: So what did you think? Who was your favourite performance?
GoldSkate88: It would be very difficult to choose. Yourself?
Katsu92: Viktor. Although it would be very difficult for me to choose any others while he remained in competition!
GoldSkate88: Why’s that?
Katsu92: Well, he’s the number one. He’s technically and stylistically the most talented of any other competitors right now.
GoldSkate88: Those aren’t the only bases of critique for a performance.
Katsu92: I know. But he’s also so… elegant. And his costume for the free skate was stunning.
GoldSkate88: You’re adorable.
Katsu92: ( o*__*o )
GoldSkate88: Haha!
Katsu92: I have some bad news, though.
GoldSkate88: ? :( ?
Katsu92: I’m not going to be able to talk for a while.
Yuuri had been debating this over the past few days.
The Grand Prix was underway now. Yuuri would need to be travelling a lot. He would be skating, he would be performing, he would be jetlagged.
He had never made it to the Grand Prix before, and he knew that he couldn’t give up his dream just because he met a nice guy he liked talking to online.
So Yuuri lied.
He said he would be going to visit family in another country (partly true) and would be gone for just over a month.
GoldSkate88 was very understanding. He told him of course time with his family should be prioritised.
And then they said their goodbyes.
Okay, a triple lutz now.
Yuuri built momentum gliding backward on the ice, his right pick went in and-
He barely made his second rotation, then slammed down on the ice, hard, skittering across it on his side.
He didn’t know how long he had been sat like this.
Yuuri was perched on the edge of a hotel bed looking down at his hands.
The moment played over and over in his head.
Everything he had worked for was over.
How would he ever be able to get back on the ice?
Vicchan was gone.
Phichit wasn’t here.
Viktor had probably watched him fail with amusement. It was likely the first time Yuuri’s idol had ever seen him, and it would have been to see the worst skate of his life.
He wanted to crawl into bed and never wake up.
“Yuuri, please. It will be fine. Nerves got the better of you, but you made it here! You’re the top skater in your country! And your performance up until the final was beautiful. We can work on it! Now, please, can we leave?”
Celestino was waving emphatically at him as he stood in the middle of the room.
He had so far managed to get Yuuri out of bed and into a suit, but Yuuri wasn’t sure he could do much else. How did his coach expect him to go to a banquet when his life as he knew it was over? How was he supposed to go and eat and drink and mingle with all of the people who had watched him fail? All of the people who had succeeded him?Viktor fucking Nikiforov?!
Celestino was kneeling in front of him now, concern painted on his face. Yuuri liked his coach. He was a good man, and Yuuri knew he was just trying to help.
“Yuuri, it gets better. Trust me. Whatever you choose to do going on from this, I will support you. But right now you need to put on a brave face and come to the banquet. It will help you unwind. And if you’re not feeling it after an hour we can leave! Just show your face, at least.”
Yuuri stood.
Okay.
Yuuri’s eyes blinked open. They weighed a ton. When had his eyes ever been this heavy? Was it possible to gain weight on your eyes? When was the sun this bright? Why was his head spinning?
He tried to sit up. Bad idea.
Oh God he was hungover.
He flattened his hands and searched around for his glasses. They were folded neatly on the bedside table, next to his neatly folded clothes... Well, that was certainly forward-thinking of him.
Then his eyes settled on the probable source of the problem: an empty bottle of champagne on its side on the TV unit opposite him.
Yuuri groaned as he allowed himself to settle back into the entirely-too-comfortable sheets.
What happened last night?
He remembered very little.
He remembered the depression.
He remembered the anxiety.
He even remembered the little flip his stomach did when he saw Viktor across the room (God, he was just so much more beautiful in person).
He remembered the first two glasses of champagne.
He remembered Celestino apologising that he had to leave, and his wife screaming down the phone at him as he tried to cover the speaker on his mobile.
After that, nothing.
Clearly he had slunk off with a bottle of champagne to drown his sorrows in his hotel room.
He was freezing.
Russia was bitter cold.
And as he fell back into the haze of sleep, he wondered how Viktor lived here.
Yuuri fell back onto his dorm room bed.
For the first time in his life, he wasn’t skating.
He had just ended things with Celestino. It was his final year at college, and all he wanted to do right now was focus on graduating this summer so he could move forward.
Phichit was upset, constantly trying to get him to cheer up, encouraging him that he was capable and he was going to be an amazing skater one day, telling him to keep looking up to Viktor, and all manner of things that Yuuri just didn’t want to hear right now.
He loved Phichit, he knew he would only ever want the best for Yuuri, but it wasn’t helpful. Not now.
After the Grand Prix Final, Yuuri continued on to Nationals, where he had also suffered a crushing defeat.
What was the point in trying?
He obviously had a problem with big competitions.
How could he continue in competitive skating like that?
He was an idiot for thinking he could even grace the same ice as Viktor Nikiforov.
Phichit had left him alone with his thoughts.
He laid on his bed, not even rising to turn on the light as the day passed and darkness enveloped him.
He needed to stop thinking.
Yuuri’s head started to feel a little lighter after the fourth beer.
Fuck it.
So what if he couldn’t be Viktor?
Who could ever compete with Viktor?
He was a sex god.
Yuuri burst into raucous laughter. Had he really just said that, even in his head?!
Pfffttt. Funny.
He seemed so nice.
He wished he had taken him up on that offer for the photo.
Even if Yuuri had been mortified, it would have been something to keep.
Viktor had seemed nice.
Stupid Viktor.
He was already perfect, he had no business in being nice alongside it.
Stupid Viktor.
Do you know who else was nice?
GoldSkate88.
There’s someone he hadn’t thought of in a little while.
And he didn’t even know him. Not really.
Yuuri hadn’t spoken to him in about 2 months. He had said it would be just over a month, but Yuuri was too embarrassed.
He bet everyone was laughing at him in the forum.
Why did he join the stupid forum?
But before he knew it, there he was, logging on.
The cap of his fifth beer clinked as it fell on the desk. Yuuri swigged.
May as well see how horrible people had been.
He was scrolling through the threads, at this point mainly about nationals, but his name didn’t jump out anywhere.
Maybe he had overestimated.
Maybe he wasn’t even important enough to be being thought of by people.
He huffed out a laugh as he sunk a big swig. He didn’t even hear the ping.
GoldSkate88: KATSU! :O WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?
Shit.
What was he supposed to say? He wracked his brain.
Then it dawned on him.
It didn’t matter. His career was over before it began. Even if GoldSkate learned his identity, what would it matter?
Katsu92: I want to see you.
A pause.
GoldSkate88: I’m not in America anymore.
Katsu92: No, I want to see you. I want to know you.
There we go. Either he would say yes and Yuuri would finally get to see this person he had talked to for so long, or he would say no and it wouldn’t matter anyway.
GoldSkate88: What do you mean? You want a picture?
Katsu92: Yes.
A longer pause.
Then the dot on screen started to bounce.
A ping.
Not a response, but an attachment.
Yuuri’s eyes widened. He half hadn’t expected to receive anything.
He clicked.
On screen there was a picture.
It was a torso.
A topless torso.
A gorgeous, slim, muscular, extremely defined torso.
Yuuri swallowed.
There was no face, but if this was GoldSkate…
Yuuri bit his lip. He was hot.
He had been staring for a few minutes, taking in everything he could, when he realised he should probably respond.
Katsu92: Is that really you?
GoldSkate88: Yes :S
Katsu92: Oh.
GoldSkate88: Oh?
Katsu92: I mean…
Katsu92: Good. No face?
GoldSkate88: Ah, well. It’s a bit difficult because of my job.
Katsu92: Famous?
GoldSkate88: Maybe. A little.
Interesting.
Yuuri thought back to Skate America. Maybe he really was there. Maybe he was a coach! Or a commentator!
Yuuri searched through his brain, but the beer was making it difficult for any of the blurry faces floating through his minds to form patterns.
GoldSkate88: Your turn ;)
Oh shit.
He should have thought this through.
Of course he would have been expected to return the favour in kind.
Katsu92: Gimme a sec.
Yuuri had never done anything like this before. However, the alcohol felt like it was reaching all of his edges and making everything a little easier.
He laughed to himself as he pulled his shirt over his head. Yuuri certainly wasn’t in the best shape of his life (he had been binge eating his failure away), but at the moment he knew he was still more physically fit than 90% of regular guys out there. He stood, and tried to angle his iPhone.
How did you do this?
He tried to angle his body in an attractive position, enough to highlight his muscles, but enough to not make him look completely posed and flexing. He wasn’t a damn bodybuilder.
He took a few and flicked through. They all looked the same. Good enough.
He quickly Airdropped them to his computer, swallowing before he allowed himself to attach and send to the other man.
There. Done.
There was a long pause. About five minutes. Yuuri’s fingers hovered over the keyboard, trying to think of an excuse, trying to think of anything to say.
GoldSkate88: Sorry!
GoldSkate88: Almost forgot to respond. I may have stared a little too much.
GoldSkate88: Nice décor! ;)
Yuuri’s brow furrowed in confusion. He quickly pulled up the photo again, and then he saw it. It was his naked torso, directly in front of a large poster of Viktor Nikiforov.
SHIT SHIT FUCKING SHIT
Great, Yuuri.
He had managed to take a photo of himself to send to a guy he liked in front of a picture of his idol. Now GoldSkate would think he was completely immature. What 23 year-old man had POSTERS on his walls, let alone of popular figure skaters?!
Katsu92: Shit.
Katsu92: I didn’t see that when I took it.
Katsu92: Pretend you didn’t see that.
GoldSkate88: Really! You need to stop worrying so much. I was entirely too focused on something else anyway ;)
Katsu92: And what was that?
Yuuri’s confidence was coming back now. He was being flirted with. And he was allowing it.
GoldSkate88: I can’t be certain, but it may have been something to do with the most delicious body I’ve ever seen being on screen.
Katsu92: Have you looked in a mirror recently?
GoldSkate88: Have you? It is torturous to look on such splendour and not be able to touch.
Yuuri’s stomach dropped, much in the same way as going over a big dip in the road in a car. Suddenly his jeans felt very tight.
Katsu92: Would you?
GoldSkate88: ?
Katsu92: Touch.
GoldSkate88: I would find it very difficult to be able to stop myself.
Yuuri took another long sip of his beer.
GoldSkate88 has sent an attachment.
Yuuri clicked on it, and his beer was promptly spraying out of his mouth.
A pair of dark trousers, seated. And a very, very large… very, very prominent bulge, tenting the front of them.
Katsu92: I spat out my beer. Literally.
GoldSkate88: Haha! Sorry about that!
Katsu92: Facing a pretty similar situation here.
GoldSkate88: Tell me more.
Katsu92: Well... It was a very nice picture you sent.
GoldSkate88: I still have yours up. May make it my wallpaper so I can stare at it all the time.
Katsu92: Stop!
GoldSkate88: Really. I wish I could touch you.
Katsu92: Where?
GoldSkate88: Everywhere.
Oh God.
Yuuri was painfully hard now. He hadn’t even seen this guy’s face and he felt like this.
Ridiculous.
And yet, here he found his hand snaking its way into his jeans.
Katsu92: I guess I’ll need to do it for you just now then.
A pause.
GoldSkate88: …
GoldSkate88: You’re driving me crazy.
Katsu92: How so?
GoldSkate88: It’s hard to type with one hand.
Katsu92: Where’s the other?
GoldSkate88: Wishing it was on you.
Ugh.
Yuuri’s hand was in his boxers now, wrapped around his pulsing dick. He stroked hard, enjoying the intense friction.
Katsu92: I wish that too.
GoldSkate88: I wish you were touching me too.
Katsu92: I am. Can’t you feel me?
GoldSkate88: Yes. Can you feel me?
Katsu92: Definitely.
GoldSkate88: What am I doing?
Katsu92: Stroking me, shoulders to hips. Kissing my neck.
GoldSkate88: Your body is beautiful. I love your collarbones.
Katsu92: Where do you want me to touch you?
GoldSkate88: Nipples.
Katsu92: Good. That’s where I am.
Katsu92: I’m using my mouth, licking and nibbling at your chest.
GoldSkate88: Yes!
He stroked faster.
Katsu92: I’m sliding up your body. You feel me pressed against you.
GoldSkate88: You’re so hard.
Katsu92: You have no idea.
Yuuri allowed himself to sink back in his seat a little, enjoying the sensation of his hand, picturing that gorgeous body on top of him. All was silent for a few minutes.
GoldSkate88: Tell me you’re thinking about me.
Katsu92: I am definitely thinking about you. Are you thinking about me?
GoldSkate88: I can’t get you out of my head.
Katsu92: Good. Don’t stop.
GoldSkate88: You feel too good. I’m losing it over here.
Katsu92: Harder.
Yuuri was commanding, both for the sake of his own touch, and the man on the other end of the chat.
GoldSkate88: I can’t hold on much longer.
Yuuri’s stomach was knotting.
Katsu92: You feel so good. I’m close…
GoldSkate88: Katsu I’m going to
Katsu92: Yes
GoldSkate88: I’m
And Yuuri moaned out, come spilling over his hand, still staring at the body on screen. A drop landed on the picture in front of him, and another wave hit him at the sight.
When he was completely spent, he began to clean up.
Once finished, he sat back down in front of the screen, quickly closing the picture.
He wasn’t sure what to say.
Several minutes passed.
GoldSkate88: Are you okay, baby?
Katsu92: Yes. I’ve just… never done anything like that before.
GoldSkate88: Was it okay?
Katsu92: More than okay. Good.
GoldSkate88: I’m glad.
Katsu92: For you?
GoldSkate88: A bit more than good ;)
And somehow, they managed to ease back into polite conversation before saying their goodnights.
GoldSkate88: I really did miss you.
Katsu92: I’m sorry. I missed you too.
GoldSkate88: I have to go :(
Katsu92: Okay. I should probably sleep anyway.
GoldSkate88: Sweet dreams, my Katsu <3
Katsu92: I doubt I could have anything but now. Until next time xxx
GoldSkate88: :) xxxxxxx
Yuuri shivered as he walked through the front door. It was freezing outside.
He toed off his shoes and waited for the steam that had formed on his glasses to clear. He pulled off his coat and scarf, then made his way up to his bedroom, passing his mother on the way. She welcomed him home from his run.
Yuuri had been back in Japan for a couple of days now.
His emotions were all over the place.
He missed Phichit, more than he had anticipated. He had ended things with Celestino. He had managed to graduate early. He hadn’t skated. He wanted to.
But he had made this decision. At this precise moment in time he wasn’t sure if coming home had been the right thing to do, but Yuuri Katsuki was a man who stuck to his convictions. If was his choice and he was going to see it through, whatever that may bring.
Yuuri had been so busy with everything that he hadn’t had much time to speak to his online friend, and when he did the conversations had been very brief. However, back home again, he had spent most of the previous night talking to him. It was a little strange, given that before when he spoke to GoldSkate and it was night, it would be first thing the next morning there. Now, he spoke to him at night and his companion was still in the middle of the afternoon. It seemed to fit okay, though. As Yuuri understood it, he was an extremely early riser, and would skate after speaking with him.
The previous night, Yuuri had entered another particularly heavy session with the man, and his desperation to know more about him was reaching its peak. They had been talking for nearly 6 months now without even exchanging names. Yuuri always put the urge to press him for details to the back of his mind, convincing himself that the less he knew the less he could focus on, which was attractive when he should have been thinking about his skating. But Yuuri wasn’t skating now. What harm did it do to allow himself to be a little more inquisitive?
Katsu92 has logged in
GoldSkate88: Hello stranger ;)
Katsu92: Literally.
GoldSkate88: How are we?
Katsu92: Curious.
GoldSkate88: Curious?
Katsu92: Yes. I’d like to see you.
GoldSkate88: You’ve already seen me ;)
Katsu92: Your face.
GoldSkate88: :(
Katsu92: We can’t keep talking like this.
GoldSkate88: Why?
Yuuri inhaled deeply, preparing himself. He was going to refuse and this was going to be over. Just like every other aspect of his life right now.
Katsu92: I’m too invested.
GoldSkate88: What do you mean?
Katsu92: I like you. I mean, I REALLY like you.
GoldSkate88: Oh.
Katsu92: And I can’t allow myself to keep feeling like this.
There was a long pause. Yuuri considered in his head whether he should keep typing, but he thought it only fair to give the other man time to debate and respond to him too.
GoldSkate88: I might put you off.
Katsu92: I doubt that.
GoldSkate88: :|
GoldSkate88: I want something from you too.
Yuuri was prepared for this. Of course a picture of his face in kind would be expected.
Katsu92: Sure.
GoldSkate88: Your name.
Oh. Easier than expected. Of course Yuuri would be happy to send him a picture (once he had received one, that is) but he would easily provide a name beforehand.
Katsu92: Deal.
GoldSkate88: :)
GoldSkate88: Well?
Katsu92: Yūri.
GoldSkate88: You’re kidding.
Katsu92: No?
Why would he be joking about his own name?
GoldSkate88: Seriously?
Katsu92: Yes! Why?!
GoldSkate88: A few Yuri’s in my life recently. That’s all :) I was just surprised.
Who on Earth could know several Yuuris? Yuuri himself had only met a handful of people in his life with his name. And next to none of them were outside of Japan.
Katsu92: I see.
GoldSkate88: So, are you sure about this?
Katsu92: Will you tell me your name after, too?
GoldSkate88: That won’t be necessary.
Yuuri barely had time to register his confusion before the next message.
GoldSkate88 has sent an attachment
Yuuri hovered over it, then ever so gently, allowed his finger to click down on the mouse.
The image opened.
First came shock. Then the disbelief. Then the confusion. Then the anger.
The anger built. It built and built and Yuuri was clenching his fists and grinding his teeth and then typing so hard into his keyboard he was so sure the keys may fly off around the room.
Katsu92: THAT’S NOT FUNNY!
GoldSkate88: It’s not meant to be funny.
Katsu92: Even after me telling you how I felt about you?! Even after telling you my name?!
GoldSkate88: I don’t understand :(
Katsu92: What? Did you send it to mock me because of the first picture I sent you?!
GoldSkate88: No! Of course not! Yuuri, that’s me!
And suddenly Yuuri found himself slamming closed his laptop.
He didn’t want to talk anymore.
He didn’t want to see the name GoldSkate88 anymore.
And, for possibly the first time in his life, he didn’t want to see a picture of Viktor Nikiforov’s face.
He couldn’t sleep.
He couldn’t remember the last time he had been this angry.
He couldn’t think about anything else either.
He lay in bed, stewing in his anger.
Well, at least it ended with a bang. Just like his last two competitions, he derisively thought.
Yuuri stared at the ceiling of his small childhood room. He couldn’t look anywhere else. Posters of Viktor Nikiforov adorned the walls at every turn.
He was stupid. He was immature. He was childish.
How could he ever have expected to have any semblance of a normal life when he had spent most of it chasing a dream?
His phone buzzed.
He figured it must be Phichit, still awake a couple of hours behind him in Thailand. What even was the time anyway? He picked up his phone.
It was 1am, and it wasn’t Phichit.
He had forgotten that yesterday he downloaded the new beta app for the forum. One of the perks (though not right now) of which was that you could private message users even when they weren’t online. He didn’t even need to unlock his phone to see it.
GoldSkate88: I’m sorry.
Yuuri tutted. Another buzz.
GoldSkate88: Yuuri, I am so sorry. I never meant to hurt you.
Yuuri turned his phone over. It buzzed again. He tried his best to ignore it, but against his better judgement he found himself looking at it again.
GoldSkate88: Please, let’s talk. I have Skype.
Yuuri contemplated. He wanted to video chat? What would be the point in that?
Yuuri could only see two reasons for the suggestion: 1) he actually was Viktor Fucking Nikiforov (ha!), or 2) this guy was ballsy enough to show himself to explain what he had done.
Did he want to put himself through that?
Maybe he owed him a chance to explain. He had had feelings for him, after all. He chewed on his lip as decided. Maybe he ought to give him a chance. Otherwise he"d never know.
He unlocked his phone.
Katsu92: I haven"t decided yet. Give me your username.
GoldSkate88: v-nikiforov88
Wow, he"d put effort into this, hadn"t he?
Yuuri bit down the fact that he hadn"t clicked about Viktor"s date of birth beforehand. And then he felt incredibly stupid when he realised the significance of his other username too... Viktor wore gold blades on his skates.
Was he really going to do this?
He got up and went over to his desk, flipping on his lamp.
He opened up his laptop and turned it on.
He opened up the Skype app, and entered the username. The small icon was green. Available.
He really was gonna do this.
Yuuri opened up the chat window, and used his laptop camera to check there were no posters visible in shot from this angle (the last thing he needed was more ammunition to be used against him). When he was sure he had adequately angled himself, he hit the call button.
The obnoxious call noise rang just once, and the call was picked up.
When the video on the other end loaded, it would be difficult to say who looked more shocked of the two. Yuuri was wide-eyed, his mouth hanging open, completely silent.
And the scene wasn"t much different on the other end.
There sat Viktor Nikiforov, his face in complete surprise, but his eyes filled with tears, also slack-jawed. He was the first to speak, his voice low and broken, his accent heavy.
"K-katsuki?"
Yuuri said nothing.
"You"re Katsuki Yuuri..."
Yuuri"s identity hadn"t mattered so much to him a moment ago in his anger. He hadn"t been thinking of the thought that the guy he had been speaking to didn"t know who he was either.
"You"re Viktor Nikiforov..."
He had meant it to be a thought, but the words found themselves flowing out his mouth nonetheless.
And now Viktor was smiling. That brilliant, white, gorgeous, endearing smile.
"Yes." Was all he responded with.
They sat, staring at each other in silence for several minutes. Viktor was wearing a white dressing gown, and Yuuri could still make out tears clinging to his lashes. The room he was in had the last fragments of daylight casting through the windows, and Viktor was sitting in soft lamplight, anticipating the impending darkness of night.
Yuuri searched his head desperately for something to say, but it was useless.
How had this happened? He started talking to someone online and it turns out to be his childhood idol? This just didn"t happen.
Hang on, had Viktor just called him by his full name?
"You remembered me? From the Grand Prix?"
"Yuuri, it"s been impossible to forget you."
Yuuri cast his eyes downward, feeling on the edge of tears. He knew if he started he would be bawling. Was Viktor mocking him? "Impossible to forget?"
His fall must have been even more spectacularly disastrous than it felt. His idol not only knew he was, but he had remembered him due to the worst moment of his career.
"I was attracted to you the moment I laid eyes on you."
Yuuri"s gaze darted upward with haste.
"I know you slipped, but your form is incredible. I was drawn to you straight away. I didn"t understand how it had taken you so long to place when you skate so beautifully. I mean, likely its Celestino. He"s an alright coach, but I"m not sure you fit each other very well. And then, when I saw you at the banquet I couldn"t take my eyes off you. I"ve been thinking about you ever since. Truth be told, I was extremely guilty... I had formed this bond with whoever I was speaking to online, and I was beginning to really like them, but then I saw you and everything changed. But you"re both of them! It"s more than I could ever dream of! And I am so sorry if I-"
"Viktor."
Yuuri cut him off. Viktor was babbling. He had a tendency to do this in their online conversations, and Yuuri suppressed a chuckle at the fact that beneath all that charm and charisma and sex appeal, Viktor talked like an incessant schoolgirl when he was nervous.
"Everything before... Was all you?"
A gorgeous shade of rose pink spread across Viktor"s defined cheekbones.
"Yes."
"From the beginning?"
"Yes."
"When you travelled for work... You were at Skate America?"
"Yes. Truly at that point I was falling for you that I thought I could deal with whatever came of revealing my identity to you. But it just wasn"t meant to be at that time, I guess."
Yuuri thought for a moment.
Oh damn.
"That picture I sent you... the background..."
Yuuri"s anxiety clawed its way up his throat. He felt it tighten around his Adam"s apple, and swallowing was painful.
"Yuuri, you"re a champion figure skater. As conceited as it may sound, it"s not unusual for skating fans and skaters alike to have pictures of myself and other top podium placers."
Yuuri gave a small smile in acceptance of the answer. He was sure Viktor would change his mind if he knew how many posters and pictures and magazines Yuuri had, but given that Yuuri had been living with another skater at that time, he guessed it wouldn"t have been too unusual a situation really. He shifted uneasily in his chair, and once again subtly checked that there were no posters in shot of the webcam right now. He was in the clear.
Well, kind of.
He was speaking to Viktor Nikiforov.
He had exchanged pictures with Viktor Nikiforov.
He had gushed about Viktor Nikiforov"s skate to Viktor Nikiforov.
God, he had online sex with VIKTOR NIKIFOROV.
Yuuri"s cheeks began to burn at the memory.
And then he wondered. Did that mean that Viktor had been...?
"I"m so happy to see you."
Viktor cut off his train of thought.
"And I really am sorry. Can you forgive me for not telling you sooner?"
What? Forgive him? It was Yuuri"s fault they hadn"t met earlier than this in America!
"What? Of course! I"m the one who should be sorry! I just really couldn"t believe that would really be you. I"m really sorry, Viktor."
Viktor smiled, and Yuuri"s heart felt like it was going to burst. His smile had always been gleaming, gorgeous... But now those eyes were focused only on him, only on Yuuri, he felt the warmth that radiated from him too. How could it turn out that Viktor Nikiforov, seemingly perfect Viktor Nikiforov, actually was perfect?
"Let"s stop apologising to each other. Now that I know who you are, I want to get to know you fully. Tell me everything about yourself, Yuuri."
And then, they talked.
They talked about the Grand Prix. Viktor had hushed away all of Yuuri"s claims about how terrible he was, and Yuuri congratulated Viktor on his fifth gold.
Yuuri opened up a little, telling Viktor he had ended things with Celestino and moved back home. Viktor didn"t make him feel bad about it, and instead focused on how incredible it was that he had gotten a degree and graduated early, something that he confessed he had never even thought about trying to achieve.
Viktor told Yuuri about Yakov, and how he seemed to have become less inspired by Viktor these days, instead throwing all of his attention into Yuri Plisetsky ahead of his senior debut (ah, the other Yuri Viktor spoke of. Yuuri had forgotten about the youngster who yelled at him in the bathroom at the Grand Prix). Viktor wasn"t disappointed by Yakov, instead endeared that he was giving someone else the chance that he had given Viktor so young. Yuuri could tell that Viktor cared very deeply for his coach.
Viktor told Yuuri that he had a poodle called Makkachin, and Yuuri pretended not to have known. Yuuri told him that he had also had a toy poodle, but that he had died just before the Grand Prix. Viktor welled up. "No wonder you didn"t perform at your best! I would have been destroyed! Makka is getting so old now, and I know it has to happen eventually, but I don"t think I"ll ever be prepared." Yuuri silently agreed with him, he didn"t think you could really ever prepare for the death of your best friend.
Viktor"s room was completely dark except for the lamplight on his face now, and Yuuri saw a visible chill run through him.
"Prosti, Yuuri. It"s cold. I need to change."
Yuuri thought Viktor was ending the call, but instead he just stood and immediately removed his robe, directly in front of the camera. Yuuri"s eyes were fixed to the screen. There was Viktor"s naked torso (the one he hadn"t recognised before), the top of the picture cut off at his shoulders, the bottom of the picture cut off just below his hips, his nipples hard and pink from cold, and Yuuri could see an enticing band of silver hairs at the bottom of the-
"I can still see you, you know."
Viktor"s voice echoed loudly with amusement through what sounded like a large room, as his figure pulled on a gorgeous plum-coloured jumper.
Yuuri immediately looked away, his cheeks flushing, and he daren"t look back at the screen. Especially now he could see Viktor"s head bent forward as he reached to pull on some bottoms.
"That"s better."
Viktor settled back down into his seat, and when Yuuri turned back to face him, Viktor threw him a cheeky wink, his gorgeous fringe settling over his eye.
It was nothing Yuuri hadn"t seen before, but that look, combined with what he had just seen, and the memory lingering in the back of his mind of the conversation they had had just last night...
Yuuri swallowed hard.
"Something I said?" Viktor asked with amusement, clearly noting Yuuri"s beetroot red face.
"N-no... Nothing! I mean..."
And then, before Yuuri could register what was happening, Viktor whipped off his gorgeous jumper and tossed it carelessly across the room.
"Would you feel more comfortable if I was like this?" Viktor asked.
"I thought you were cold."
"Not anymore."
A smirk pulled at the corners of his mouth.
"Your face looks a little flushed, Yuuri. Are you warm too?"
He was.
He was definitely warm.
Too warm.
And all he was wearing was a T-shirt and pyjama bottoms.
"A little."
"Well, please, don"t let me stop you from making yourself comfortable."
Yuuri but down on his lip. He looked down at the navy t-shirt he was wearing. He debated.
He removed it, slowly.
Did he imagine that moan as he pulled the neck over his head?
When he looked back, Viktor was still smiling, his lids heavy now.
"So I was thinking about last night."
"W-what about it?"
"How incredible it is that it was Yuuri Katsuki talking to me like that."
Yuuri thought he saw Viktor"s right shoulder dip slightly, and wondered where his hand was. His pyjamas were uncomfortably tight now.
"I"m sorry I made you spit out your beer. A tragedy!" Viktor chuckled.
And then Yuuri remembered the first night they spoke like that. How confident he had been in his tipsy haze. The sight of his come on Viktor"s chest as it landed on the screen. He bucked a little, involuntarily. He didn"t remember his fingers moving to his crotch, but they were there now, stroking lightly through the fabric.
He tried to remain in the moment, tried not to think about the fact that it was Viktor Nikiforov he was speaking to, tried to remember the comfortable feeling of chatting with GoldSkate88. Everything had happened so quickly. He only discovered his identity a couple of hours ago.
"For the record, I did make it my wallpaper." Viktor stated, referring to Yuuri"s picture.
"Why?" Yuuri asked, embarrassed and laughing lightly.
"I didn"t want to stop looking at it. It did cause some problems though. I couldn"t concentrate."
It was ridiculous. Yuuri couldn"t imagine living legend Viktor Nikiforov, at home in St Petersburg, being driven to distraction by Yuuri"s slim Japanese body. That kind of thing just didn"t happen. But Yuuri didn"t question it. He was a little distracted himself right now. Viktor"s shoulder was definitely dipping up and down... Oh god, what was his hand doing?
Yuuri"s hand slyly made its way into his bottoms, and he grasped his length, trying not to let the sensation of the new contact show on his face. He must have failed, because at that moment, Viktor let out a breathy sigh.
"What are you doing?"
Yuuri found himself asking the question, despite the fact that by this point it was fairly obvious. Viktor"s chest muscles were flexing in rhythm, his nipples hard, his breathing heavy.
"I"ll show you if you like."
Viktor said, but didn"t move. Yuuri closed his eyes in embarrassment. What response had he expected?
"Yuuri... I will show you. But you have to ask."
Yuuri could hear the delighted teasing in his tone. Clearly Viktor liked being a little in command of these sort of situations.
"Please."
"Please what, Yuuri?"
"... P-please show me, Viktor."
Yuuri heard a chair scrape across wood as Viktor moved his chair back a little, probably away from a desk. His left hand dove forward to tilt the screen, and he inadvertently covered the camera as he did so. The screen was black for a couple of seconds, and the sight that greeted Yuuri after that nearly made him keel over onto the floor.
Viktor was sat in a clear plastic chair. He was wearing pale grey sweatpants, which were pulled down that the front, and he was stroking his long, pale dick lazily with his right hand, the tip of which was pink and beading with precum.
Yuuri"s breath caught in his throat almost painfully. He hadn"t even began to stroke himself in earnest and he was close.
"Your turn." Viktor demanded.
Yuuri blushed further, but he already knew that he was going to follow Viktor"s every command. His accent was incredibly sexy, his eyes were intoxicating. If he had been an obsession to Yuuri before, he was a drug now.
Despite his hand finding its way beneath the elastic, Yuuri"s pyjamas were still fully on. He removed his hand, and stood, positioning himself at an angle that he knew would showcase the impressive length.
Yuuri may have seemed so innocent in so many ways, his body slender and athletic but not-exactly-sexy, his virginity probably plastered all over his face, and he knew that he would probably surprise Viktor with this, because something very few people knew was that Yuuri had been gifted in size, in an area he hadn"t gotten to show anyone like this yet.
"Fuck"
He heard Viktor whisper. He guessed his assumption had been correct.
On the screen he saw himself, positioned so basically only his lower abdomen and crotch was in frame. His checked pyjama bottoms tenting out dramatically. He really did look huge on the relatively small screen. He briefly wondered how big Viktor"s screen was.
He hooked his finger into his waistband, and pulled a little, before stopping. He looked at the screen to gauge Viktor’s reaction.
“Please…”
Yuuri continued, and his length bobbed out over the waistband.
“Oh.” Viktor said.
“Oh?” Yuuri asked.
“I just… I didn’t expect… you to be cut.”
“Problem?”
“No. Definitely no problem.” Viktor clarified.
“Phimosis as a kid.” Yuuri explained.
“My poor Yuuri…”
Yuuri began to stroke himself, satisfied that Viktor wasn’t put off by the sensitive looking and stretched pink skin at the head of his penis.
He sat back down in his chair, moving his laptop down to focus on his body so that Viktor could continue to see.
“Yuuri, I can’t see your face…”
Viktor moaned.
Yuuri pretended that it had been an accident, despite just wanting to cover up his blushing. He had hoped Viktor would be focused on his body right now. Yuuri adjusted the camera so his face was in shot now too, then reached across his desk and pumped a small amount of lube from his drawer into his hand. His head tilted back in pleasure and with a gasp as the cold gel on his hands slicked over his dick.
He could see Viktor’s speed gaining, but now Viktor moaned out at the look on Yuuri’s face.
“Yuuri, you are so beautiful”
He said it like it was the most truthful statement that had ever come out of his mouth.
Yuuri wanted to speak to him, but he could barely form a thought right now, let alone a sentence. Viktor’s eyes were shut now.
“I wish I were with you right now… so badly…”
“Doing what?”, Yuuri whispered.
And now Viktor blushed.
“I want to kiss you. I’ve wanted to kiss you for so long.”
It wasn’t what Yuuri had been expecting. He was expecting Viktor to say something about his body, about touching him, and yet here was Viktor Nikiforov, surprising him even in a moment like this. He kept talking.
“I want to kiss you and feel the whole world melt away.”
Yuuri smiled, even as he continued to touch himself.
“I would kiss you, long and deep, and make you forget everyone else in the world existed.”
“Nobody else does exist”, Yuuri found himself stating.
Viktor smiled out a long sigh.
His eyes were still closed.
Yuuri’s pace was fast now.
He was close already.
“Look at me, Viktor.” He demanded. “Don’t take your eyes off me.”
Viktor’s eyes shot open and Yuuri fell into that glassy aquamarine. They were the most beautiful eyes Yuuri had ever seen, but right now Yuuri thought they looked even more stunning than ever. How could Viktor look even more gorgeous than Yuuri thought possible, especially like this?!
Viktor was panting now, looking deep into Yuuri’s face on screen.
“Yuuri… I’m close…”
And Yuuri could see it on his face, as well as elsewhere. His entire length was flushed pink now, straining hard, Viktor twisting his hand up and down his hard, his knuckles white, and struggling to keep his pace not to set him over the edge too quickly.
“I’m with you.” Yuuri said. “I’m right there, Viktor.”
He bit down on his lip, trying to build his confidence.
“I wish my lips were wrapped around that right now. I bet you taste delicious.”
And with that, Viktor came with a shout, his hips bucking up into the friction of his hands, and come splattering over his abdomen.
Yuuri found himself moaning at the sight, and allowed his pace to quicken, pushing himself over that cliff at the sight of Viktor so desperately letting go, riding out the waves of pleasure from his orgasm.
“Ugh!”
Yuuri reached the edge, and Viktor’s eyes shot open to watch as Yuuri’s head threw backwards and he also allowed himself to spill over his hands and on to his chest. Viktor’s brow furrowed, looking almost pained at the sight of Yuuri’s pleasure.
A few moments later the men stared at each other, looking completely debauched and breathing heavily.
“Wow”, Viktor said.
The embarrassment crept across Yuuri’s face again. He quickly raised his hand and moved the laptop so the camera focused on his face, instead of his shame. Viktor laughed.
The ridiculousness of the situation dawned on Yuuri. It was 3am, and he was sat in his childhood bedroom, surrounded by posters of Viktor Nikiforov, who was currently on his laptop screen, almost completely naked, looking filthy and yet laughing warmly, his crystal eyes glittering.
Viktor didn’t bother to adjust his camera. He grabbed some tissues that appeared to already be sitting on his desk, and began to clean himself up. Yuuri did the same, though his body was mostly out of sight now.
After a few silent minutes Viktor was, unsurprisingly, the first to speak.
“Prosti, Yuuri. I have to ask.”
“Yes?”
“Is it only me?”
Yuuri knew exactly what he was asking. Viktor looked so vulnerable right now, a side that Yuuri had never seen. Had Yuuri been on the forum chatting up other guys? Had he been speaking to others like this too? Or was it just him?
“Viktor… it’s only ever been you.”
The next day passed in a blur.
Yuuri helped his parents around the Inn, and garnered a newfound respect for his family. Despite living here his whole life, he had never quite realised in his youth specifically how much work went into running a traditional Ryokan. By the time he had fed and bathed in the evening, he was exhausted.
He opened up his laptop and clicked on Skype, almost absentmindedly. Viktor wasn’t online.
Oh, well. He was tired, anyway.
He crawled into bed and stared up at Viktor’s face on the wall next to him.
He could have never predicted the turn his life had taken recently.
“Yuuri, don’t hole up in your room! Help shovel snow!”
His mother’s voice was entirely too shrill outside his door for this time in the morning. He rose from under the covers and pulled on his glasses.
“Snow?” He questioned aloud. Surely not. He pulled open his curtains and the white brilliance outside hit his eyes almost painfully. Snow fell delicately onto the cherry blossom outside his window, beautiful, and entirely out of season.
“Wow, what the… It’s already April too.”
He allowed himself to stare at the calming weather for a few moments before realising that he really should go and help. He dressed slowly, still sleepy, then made his way downstairs. He grabbed the shovel from the cupboard near the entrance, then pulled on his jacket and shoes. Yuuri slid the door open, expecting the hit of cold on his face, but instead was greeted by something else.
A cappuccino coloured fluffy poodle sat patiently on his doorstep. It was-
“Vicchan?”
The dog gave a small bark, then bounded forth, pushing Yuri backwards onto the hard floor and licking his face intently as if he had known Yuuri his whole life. It would have been painful if not for the thick coat and jumper Yuuri was currently wearing.
“Nope. He’s much bigger than Vicchan…”
Yuuri looked down into big puppy eyes as the dog pawed at Yuuri’s (more padded than usual) belly.
“Huh? Could he be…”
Yuuri tried to stop the thought crossing his mind, but it intruded nevertheless. Vicchan had looked so much like him…
“No, it can’t be.”
The way in which the dog was panting looked like he was nodding, assenting to his question.
“Yuuri, isn’t he just like Vicchan?”
Yuuri hadn’t heard his father approach from behind, but now he stood behind him, his usual calming smile on his face.
“He came with a really good-looking foreign guest! He’s in the hot spring right now.”
It took Yuuri a moment, then his eyes widened as far as they could go. It couldn’t be, it just couldn’t! Yuuri stumbled onto his front as he kicked off his trainers quickly, scrambling for purchase on the polished floor in his socks.
“Yuri! What’s wrong?” Toshiya called after him as he began to run frantically through the inn, but he was already gone.
He skidded as he ran into the bathhouse, the bathing and shaving patrons looking around at him in surprise as he tried to clear the steam from his glasses. He looked around frantically. No.
He pulled open the glass door to the outside, running into the frostbitten air, and halted. There was only one person in the hot spring, seated relaxingly at the other end from where Yuuri’s feet were planted on the freezing concrete ground. Even through the blurry vision of the condensation on his glasses, the silver locks were unmistakable.
“Vi-Victor… Why are you here?”