Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/8688070.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Yuri!!!_on_Ice_(Anime)
  Relationship:
      Katsuki_Yuuri/Victor_Nikiforov
  Character:
      Yuri_Plisetsky, Katsuki_Yuuri, Victor_Nikiforov, Original_Character,
      Otabek_Altin
  Additional Tags:
      Molestation, Hospitals, Rape_Recovery, Rape_Aftermath, its_kinda_graphic
      okay, Grooming, Violence, I_didnt_have_the_heart_to_turn_any_existing
      character_into_rapists_so_i_made_one_up, Recovery, Healthy_Coping
      Mechanisms, Coping, Healing, viktor_is_yuri's_legal_guardian, the_first
      two_chapters_are_pretty_terrible_in_my_opinion, but_that's_just_me, you
      guys_can_read_for_yourself_idk, i'll_update_tags_as_I_post, idk_where
      this_fic_is_going, i_kind_of_have_an_outline, relating_to_what's_going_on
      with_the_olympic_doctor, so_get_ready_for_all_that_shit
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-12-25 Updated: 2018-02-02 Chapters: 4/? Words: 4254
****** Don't Touch Me, Don't Leave Me ******
by angrycuddlefish
Summary
     Competing for the gold at the Grand Prix Final, Yuri is determined to
     win. Something happens, though, that puts everything on hold.
Notes
See the end of the work for notes
***** Hurt *****
Chapter Summary
     Alright, so I ended up changing this entire chapter and I'm going to
     do the same for the next, except maybe not delete the whole thing
     first... whoops. Anyway, this takes place at Skate America in
     Detroit, where Phichit, Viktor, Otabek, and Yuri are competing. Yuuri
     is there for his (not yet) husband.
"FUCK OFF!" 
 
The worst part about Yuri's outburst on the ice wasn't that it caught the
attention of every skater in the rink, or that it echoed through the whole
building, or that later Yakov gave him a serious tongue lashing about watching
his language around the young kids. It wasn't even the look on Otabek's face-
the hurt, confused expression that resembled a kicked puppy- it was that, not
half a beat later, in a quiet, gentle voice, Otabek said, "you don't have to
pretend to be okay."
And god, Yuri was nowhere close to okay. 
 
*   *   *   *   Two Weeks Earlier   *   *   *   *
 
Rain pounded on the concrete alongside Yuri's feet as he ran. He had begun his
run in in a good mood,  energized and ready for competition, the sun shining
and the sky clear. Brisbane weather, however, decided that was just too good
for Yuri and put a damper on his mood. Literally. 
Grumbling and cursing under his breath, he continued jogging down the empty
street, eager to get out of he rain and into the warm, dry hotel. He couldn't
risk getting sick, not right now, not the day before the Grand Prix Final. He
took gold in the Four Continents in Gangneung, Worlds in Helsinki, and the
European Championship in Moscow. He was now set to win the Grand Prix Final,
and he would he damned if he let a stupid cold keep him from the gold. If he
lost the Finals, he would spend the rest of his life beating himself up over
it. He would be damned if he let the gold slip through his fingers. 
Just the thought if losing made him angrier and angrier. The Russian Punk
hadn't come call this way just to lose at the last minute, especially not to
his competition this year. Viktor came back to compete, and also coached Yuuri
Katsuki until the pig's broke his ankle in practice one day. He was out for the
rest of the season. Viktor, of course, wanted to quit along side him, but Yuri
grabbed him by one ear, and Katsudon grabbed him by the other, and together
they yelled some sense into him. It was one of he few times he and the Japanese
Yuuri had gotten along.
Viktor wasn't performing his best because of his boyfriend's injury, but there
were other competitors who put up a pretty tough fight. Phichit Chulanont was
one of them. Phichit really stepped up his game since last season and placed
second to Yuri at Skate America. With new flips and quads under his belt, he
skated an impressive free program that even Yuri admitted would be difficult
for him. His performance scores had always been phenomenal, but his technical
score improved to a level no one expected from the Thai skater. 
Chris Giacometti was also a tough competitor. His technical scores were nearly
flawless for both of his programs, but they lacked the complected quads and
flips of his previous programs. His component scores, however, were very high.
He was charming and charismatic both on and off the ice, which made him a crowd
favorite. Although Chris could be irritating at times, Yuri respected him as an
opponent. The one guy he couldn't stand was that stupid Canadian, Jean-Jacques
Leroy. 
JJ had been a thorn in his side ever since Yuri faced him last year and lost
the gold to him. The man had somehow gotten ahold of his number and used it to
send him photos of himself; JJ with a group of fans; JJ with his numerous gold
metals (Yuri had more); JJ at a rink; JJ with his hideous merchandise; and one
(that Yuri didn't actually mind but would never admit it) was a selfie of JJ
grinning in front of a tiger enclosure at a zoo. Yuri didn't know what his
motive was, but if it was some kind of intimidation method, it wasn't working.
He already knew how skilled of a skater JJ was, and photos and selfies wasn't
going to scare him.
JJ was going to be hard to beat at the finals, with his technically difficult
programs and dazzling performances. His programs were captivating. That is, if
he didn't freeze up and choke like he did at last years Final. Yuri had to make
sure he was in top condition to compete against him.
Yuri had gotten so lost in thought that he didn't realize he had run way too
far. He passed the hotel a while ago and was now close to the rink where he
would be competing. Panting, he slowed to a stop, leaning down to catch his
breath. His phone was dead, so calling for someone to pick him up was out of
the question. Perhaps he could take shelter in the rink until the rain stopped.
As he began walking toward the large building, a sleek black car pulled up next
to him. The window rolled down and the driver, a man, smiled at him.
"Need a ride?" 
It was Antonio Costello, one of Yuri's sponsors. He was nice enough, and gave
Yuri and his family a lot of money to support his career, so Yuri forced
himself to be nice back. Right now, however, he was soaked to the bone,
irritated, and just wanted a very long nap. 
"I'm fine," he said, gritting his teeth. Although Antonio was a nice guy, Yuri
got a weird feeling whenever he was around, and didn't like being in the same
room for very long, much less in a car. Yuri stared walking again, and Antonio
cruised along next to him.
"Come on, Plisetski, you're wet and cold, I can tell. You'll get sick if you
stay out here."
Yuri stared at him for a minute and considered. He was very cold and just
wanted to go back to the hotel. 
"Okay," he grumbled, and Antonio grinned. 
"Hop in."
Yuri climbed in the passenger seat and was hit by the warm air of the interior.
Antonio reached back and grabbed a towel from the back seat and handed it to
Yuri. 
"Here, dry off."
"Thanks."
Yuri found that Antonio was a very talkative man. He asked Yuri about his
family and coach, as if he wasn't talking to Yakov every few weeks. He
chattered about the sponsorship, but that's not what Yuri was concerned with.
What he was worried about was the hand that had made its way to his knee. He
swallowed, his skin tingling from where the older man's hand made contact with
his leg, and not in a good way. 
"And maybe in a few weeks we could do a photoshoot with you modeling the gear,"
Antonio said. Yuri hardly registered that the car had stopped.
"Where are we?" He asked, praying his voice held none of the nervousness he
felt. 
Antonio turned in his seat to face Yuri fully, ignoring Yuri's question.
"Perhaps you could let your hair down..." He carded his hands through Yuri's
hair, catching the hair tie and pulling it out of the ponytail. Chills like
needles ran up Yuri's spine as the stark realization of Antonio's intentions
hit him.
"You have such a beautiful face, it's a shame to keep it hidden..." 
Oh god, I'm so stupid. "What the hell are you doing?" Yuri demanded, shrinking
away.
"Oh Yuri, I think you know what I'm doing," Antonio replied, smirking at the
cowering teen. 
Yuri's blue eyes met Antonio's grey ones for a few tense seconds. As quick as
he could, he reached for the door handle and yanked on it, but the door didn't
budge. Antonio yanked him back by his hair, pinning his head to the center
console. He shrieked, arms flailing and kicking wildly against the dash as
Antonio pulled him by the hair to the backseat. He kicked and shoved at the
larger man, but he was much stronger than the skinny teen. Antonio climbed
awkwardly over the center console into the backseat, landing on Yuri with his
knee in his stomach. Yuri was splayed out in the backseat, struggling against
the Italian's grip. Antonio snapped Yuri's head up to look at him.
"Come on, Yuri, be a good boy, huh? Be a good boy for me..." He froze at the
sound of Antonio undoing his zipper, tears pricking the pack of his eyes.
This can't be happening, oh god, this can't be happening. 
"Get off me... please s-stop..." Yuri hated the sound of his weak voice. This
wasn't like him at all. He sounded pathetic. 
Antonio laughed. "Oh come on, Yuri. Don't be like that now. Be a good boy." 
Yuri kept struggling shoving at his chest and trying to kick him away. If only
he could get his feet on his chest, he could get him off. His legs were the
strongest part of him, he could get away if he just...
A second later, his hand came down on Yuri's face. "You need my sponsorship if
you want to keep skating competitively, Yuri. Cooperate." Antonio hissed. Yuri
stilled, harsh realization setting in. He had spent most of his life fighting-
fighting in competition, fighting in practice, fighting his own body- but if he
wanted to get out of this, he couldn't fight it. 
Resignation and disgust seeped into his body as Antonio kissed and sucked at
his neck, his body going limp. He shoved Yuri down and yanked his pants and
underwear down his legs, still whispering in his ear. Tears streamed down the
sides of his face, pooling in his ears as Antonio raped him. He could feel
himself tearing, Antonio's movements becoming slicker with Yuri's blood. It
 hurt so much and he wanted it to stop.
At some point, Antonio had flipped him over to lay on his stomach, face pressed
into the fake leather of the back seat. His sobs were muted and he gripped the
seat until his knuckles turned white, praying for it to end. Tears and snot
mixed together as his face was shoved into the leather seat.
He didn't know how long it had been, but Antonio finished and zipped his pants.
"What the hell you waiting for? Get dressed," Antonio ordered, cocking an
eyebrow at the boy. Shakily, Yuri pushed himself up and tugged his pants back
up. 
"Let's just keep this between us, okay, sweetheart?" Antonio said, gripping
Yuri's chin and forcing eye contact. "Answer me."
Yuri nodded as best he could, and Antonio reached past him and opened the
backseat door. Yuri clambered out, hitting the pavement on his shoulder and
side. The door slammed shut behind him and the car sped off a few seconds
later. 
Yuri rolled onto his back, staring up at the sky. It was dark by now and the
rain stopped. The stars were hidden by clouds and street lamps. The chill wind
bit at his exposed skin, but that mild sting was nothing compared to the pain
in his backside and hips. He knew he should get up, call for help, find Yakov,
or Lilia, or someone... 
But I'm so tired. Salty tears rolled down his face again as he lay, splayed out
half on the sidewalk, half in the empty street. Maybe in a few minutes...
Just... Let me rest a minute...
***** Found *****
Chapter Summary
     I'm sorry that this is short, but I wanted to get it out. The next
     will be longer, I promise.
"Oh, come on," Otabek mumbled, locking his phone after his call went straight
to voicemail. Again, Yuri hadn't picked up his phone. They were supposed to
meet at a cafe after Yuri's 'cool off jog,' as Otabek had nicknamed them,
nearly two hours ago, but Yuri never showed. Otabek had called four times and
texted him several more before calling Yuuri, who told him he hadn't seen the
angry Russian boy since much earlier that day. 
"I'll ask Viktor and Yakov," Yuuri had promised. Otabek took to searching on
his own, hoping that Yuri had just gotten lost and his phone was dead. 
Tightening his jacket around him, he had a nagging, sinking feeling in his
stomach that something was very wrong. He rounded a corner and took his phone
out to call Yuri again when a glint in the street caught his eye. As he got
closer, he saw that it was a phone. Picking it up, he recognized the phone
case. It was Yuri's. The screen was nearly destroyed and the case was scuffed,
but it was definitely Yuri's.
Immediately, he called Yuuri again. 
Before Yuuri could even speak when he picked up, Otabek cut him off. "I found
his phone."
"Hel- you what?"
"Yuri's phone. I found it in the street. It's broken."
"Are you sure it's Yuri's?" 
Otabek rolled his eyes. "Yes, I'm sure." As if I would mistake Yuri's phone. 
"Well, maybe he just dropped it on his walk," Yuuri suggested, trying to sound
hopeful.
Otabek did his best to try not to snap at the Japanese skater, but failed.
"Katsuki, Yura spends half his life on his phone, even when he's practicing. He
would never 'just drop it.'"
He felt bad when Yuuri answered. "Oh... I'll speak with Viktor and Yakov. We'll
find him, Otabek."
He sighed. "Thanks, Yuuri."
He told Yuuri where he was and continued down the empty street, hoping he would
find Yuri. Anxiety settled in his gut, that sinking feeling manifesting into
mild panic. 
No Otabek, not is not the time for one of your episodes. He had to find Yura
first. 
He just hoped he was okay. 
 
* * *
The sight was... awful, to say the least.
When Otabek first saw him, his heart stopped for a moment. Yuri, his Yura,
lying bloody and unconscious on the pavement, splayed out awkwardly on the
sidewalk and street. He ran toward him, skidding to a stop on his knees next to
the boy. 
"Yura? Yura, wake up," Otabek called gently, lifting his head. Yuri's brow
twitched, a small sound escaping his throat. 
"Hey, hey, it's okay, you're okay now." Otabel gingerly pulled Yuri into his
lap, cradling him in his arms. 
"Where... where is he?" Yuri asked, slowly regaining consciousness. 
"Where is who?"
"He... he told me not to-to tell," Yuri mumbled, fading out again. 
Oh god, what happened to you?
Shaking, Otabek called Katsuki again. He answered almost immediately.
"Katsuki, I found him, I found him but he's hurt and, о мой Бог, he's really
hurt, I don't know what to do, he needs help." His words tumbled out in one
breath. 
"Okay, okay Otabek. Viktor is going to call for help, can you tell me where you
are?" Yuuri was a saint for being so calm when no one else knew what to do.
"No, no I have no idea, Блядь! I think, I don't know, the street is empty and I
don't recognize anything!"
"Are there any street signs around?" 
Otabek whipped his head around and squinted through the dark. "Yeah, um, I
think it says Faulker Street? Faulter? I don't know!"
He heard voices on Yuuri's end and suddenly another voice spoke.
"Otabek, this is Viktor. I know where you are. Yuuri is calling for help right
now, they should be there shortly. I'm coming too."
"Okay, okay, hurry, please, he's hurt really bad!"
"Don't worry, Otabek, he'll be okay."
The line went dead and Otabek took a deep breath. He had to stay calm. Freaking
out wouldn't help anyone, and he needed to focus on Yuri.
Otabek brushed hair from Yuri's bloody face, stroking his thumb over his cheek.
"Yura?"
Yuri opened his eyes, blinking. "Otabek...?" 
"I'm right here, Yuratcha, help is coming," he said, forcing himself to smile
in hopes that it might comfort Yuri.
Yuri looked back at him, confused. "Beka...?" 
"It's me, Yura, you're safe," Otabek whispered, petting his hair.
Yuri frowned, shifting as he slowly remembered what had happened. "Nnno, no,
no, no no no!" He cried, pushing against Otabek's chest, sobs wracking his
body.
"Shh, hey Yura, it's okay, you're safe, you're okay." Yuri curled up, clutching
himself as Otabek pulled him close, rocking back and forth. "I've got you,
you're okay."
"No! Stop it! Sto-op!" He sobbed, shaking violently. Otabek couldn't even
imagine what happened to his friend to put him in this state. 
"Yuri, calm down, it's me! It's Otabek! I won't hurt you, I promise."
Yuri's sobs shook his entire body, and Otabel held him close. The sound of
sirens grew louder, and soon the street was filled with flashing lights. 
***** ANOTHER UPDATE *****
OKAY so I rewrote chapter 1, you guys should go read that. I promise promise
promise that I will get another chapter out/edit chapter 2 soon. It probably
won't be until next month, as I have several papers due at the end of May, but
I will absolutely try. Thanks for being so patient, and I'm sorry it's taking
so long!! I know how much getting an update notification and then realizing
it's just one of these things sucks, so I'll try to stop doing that and just
post chapters. Anyway, I hope you're all doing well. I'm grateful for your
support! Kudos and comments really do motivate me to write more, so keep doing
that. Also, any feedback you have would be greatly appreciated! Any mistakes I
made, anything you want to see happen in the story, what direction you want it
to go in, anything! Just leave a comment.
Thanks so much!!
***** Manifestation *****
Chapter Summary
     A chapter? After all this time?? Holy shit???
     Yes folks, I'm back. In case any of you are interested, I'm currently
     in college studying animation, which is taking up most of my time. I
     didn't forget this story, though!
     I've decided that since I'm an artist and not a writer, I'm not going
     to agonize over posting good writing for this (i.e., changing point
     of views and jumping around timelines). This is just for fun and now
     that I've stopped trying to make it perfect, I'll probably be able to
     upload more often! It also means there's probably going to be some
     stupid tropes and stuff as well, but lets face it, you probably
     didn't click on this fic for quality content. If you want actual
     quality work, go check out my instagram @yonnie.boy, where you can
     find my art. Anyway, here's chapter 4. It's pretty short but like I
     said, I'm going to stop beating myself up over it. This is just for
     fun, after all.
Viktor, for all his faults, had always been an empathetic man. He could be
blunt and callus at times, but he felt deeply and thought himself to be quite
understanding to others plights. Such as he was, having been in the public eye
since childhood taught him to keep a calm, unmoved demeanor in most situations,
despite his naturally emotive state. Being unable to express his true feelings,
he found, made him isolate himself from others in fear of letting someone get
close to him. Until meeting Yuuri, Viktor felt he was the only one in the world
who understood what being truly alone was like. He was infatuated with Yuuri
Katsuki the second he lay eyes on him, and the feeling seemed to be
reciprocated. Several months and many cases of severe lack of communication
later, he found a ring on his finger and the young man in his bed nearly every
night. It seemed that everything in his life was falling in to place exactly
how it should, and that all his plight and sorrow through the years had led him
to these precious moments of bliss with someone whom he loved with all his
heart and who loved him back. 
 It all came undone with the return of Antonio Costello. 
Costello had been in Viktor's life for many years, a shadow lurking in the back
of his mind every day of his life since he entered the competitive skating
arena. His presence was innocent at first, a genuine smile and a promise of
financial help in boosting his skating career; later, more money, but can you
do this for me, Vitya? and it was only one time, it won't happen again, he
didn't mean it. Viktor soared in the juniors, climbing the ranks and please, I
don't want to, please don't make me. A gold medal, a second gold medal, I can't
help you if you don't help me, Viktor. Three gold medals at fourteen, in line
for a fourth if he plays his cards right,put your hand right there, Viktor,
you're doing so good.,the whole skating world wondering how this young man has
become a legend at such a tender age. At sixteen, he debuts as a senior skater.
At sixteen, he hears a story about a young athlete pressing charges on her
skating coach, whom she accuses of sexually abusing her. He feels for her. His
life goes on. 
Antonio Costello fades out of his life. The sponsorship ends, but Viktor has
others. He forgets about the man, but something keeps him awake at night. An
ever present awareness of something rotten in himself, something tainted and
polluted. He keeps up his act of the suave heartbreaker and that seems to work.
He shows his true self to only his beloved, but keeps this soiled part to
himself, until he can't anymore. 
He sees Costello at an event soon after the Grand Prix. Eye contact from across
the room and the memory of hands where they shouldn't be, and Viktor can't
think or breathe. Yuuri leads him to their hotel room and Viktor is spilling
everything, every unwanted touch and piece of clothing torn away, and the words
"he raped me" are finally out of his mouth and it feels so freeing that someone
knows, and he's so glad it's Yuuri. Yuuri wants to tell the authorities, but
the thought terrifies Viktor to the core, so he drops it. 
He regretted this the most. 
Sitting in the hospital room next to Yuri, who lay on his side on the bed,
holding the boy's hand and humming a Russian lullaby, he tried not to stew in
his self hatred. It was Antonio Costello, Yuri had said. His sponsor. How had
Viktor not payed attention? How had he not been hyper-vigilant and know exactly
who the young boy was exposed to? Yuri was his responsibility and he had failed
him. 
Yuri was silent, staring at the wall. It was unnerving, seeing the boy so...
lifeless. Was that how Viktor had been? No, not to this extent. He hadn't been
violently raped in the back of a car and dumped in the street to freeze to
death. His had been a careful grooming. Costello had become bold, but he
wouldn't get away with it this time. Viktor would make sure of it.
"That's a stupid song."
Yuri's monotone voice broke his thoughts. "Would you like me to stop?" He asked
as gently as he could without sounding condescending. 
"No," Yuri said, "just sing something else."
Viktor forced a smile and changed the tune. At the very least, Yuri was still
acting like himself. Though, Viktor had to wonder if this had been the first
time, or if it had also been a slow process of grooming for Yuri as well. He
didn't know which was worse.
The sexual assult kit was already done, but the doctors wanted to keep Yuri
overnight to monitor his injuries. Because he was a minor, they allowed Viktor,
his legal guardian, to stay with him. Somewhere during the night, Viktor made
the call to Yuri's grandfather, which went precisely how he expected it to-
heartbreaking and devastating to the elderly man, whom Viktor tried and failed
to console. All the while, Viktor faced his crushing guilt and self hatred and
resisted the almost overwhelming urge to cry and scream that it was his fault,
that he could have done something but he didn't because he was a coward. It
wasn't fair, not to Yuri or Viktor or any other kid Costello raped, and he was
sure there were others. 
Viktor stayed away all through the night, his thoughts keeping him awake while
his young companion slept fitfully. His exhaused, wounded body looked so frail,
drowning in the small hospital bed and Viktor's chest tightened at the sight.
Yuri had been delirious when Viktor arrived at the hospital, confused and
disoriented, and poor Otabek didn't know what to do. Hospital staff refused to
allow him in the room, so he was abandoned in the waiting area until Viktor and
Yuuri came. Viktor was allowed to see him and be with him for the examination,
but Yuuri stayed with Otabek. Late into the night, after Yuri had fallen
asleep, Viktor went out to see his fiance.
"How is he?" Yuuri asked, "Is he going to be okay?"
Viktor rubbed his face. "His body will recover. I don't know about... the rest
of him."
Yuuri inhaled sharply. "Poor Yuri..." He looked up and cupped Viktor's cheek in
his hand. "You look exhaused, darling. You should get some sleep."
"I can't," Viktor said, "I have to be here for him"
Yuuri nodded and wrapped his arms around his fiance's shoulders, and Viktor set
his forehead on Yuuri's shoulder. He was so tired. 
Otabek stood a few feet away, unsure of what to do. When Viktor looked up, the
two made eye contact, and he had a realization of just how young Otabek was.
Just eighteen, hardly old enough to be called a man, and he had just found his
friend bleeding and unconscious in the streets, held him until the ambulance
got there. Gently, Viktor separated himself from Yuuri and addressed Otabek.
"How are you, Otabek?" he asked, touching his arm carefully. Otabek shrugged,
seeming to shrink in on himself a little. 
"I dunno, just.. worried," was his answer. A man of few words, then.
Viktor smiled, doing his best to put forth that unwavering confidant front for
the teenager who was undoubtedly suffering silently. "Perhaps you and Yuuri
could go back to the hotel for the night, and see Yura tomorrow? He's asleep
right now, and you should be too."
Otabek looked ready to protest, to insist that he stay the entirety of the
night, but, due to shock or exhaustion or something else, he nodded and looked
to the ground. Viktor didn't know him well, but he was sure, under different
circumstances, this quiet boy would not be the type to give in so easily.
He kissed his love goodbye, then went back to Yuri's bedside to wait out the
night. Sinking in his chair, he watched the boy sleep, and his mind would not
rest. 
End Notes
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