Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/9625244.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Yuri!!!_on_Ice_(Anime)
  Relationship:
      Katsuki_Yuuri/Yuri_Plisetsky
  Character:
      Katsuki_Yuuri, Yuri_Plisetsky, Jean-Jacques_Leroy, Isabella_Yang, Viktor
      Nikiforov, Victor_Nikiforov, Yakov_Feltsman, Lilia_Baranovskaya
  Additional Tags:
      Sequel, POV_Yuri_Plisetsky, Insecurity, Angst, Fluff, Fluff_and_Angst, JJ
      wisdom, Smut, Blow_Jobs, Face-Fucking, Rated_T_until_the_end_tbh,
      Explicit_Language, Minor_language_kink, Hair_Kink, Rostelecom_Cup, I'm
      Bad_At_Tagging, sin_-_Freeform, Sorry_Not_Sorry, Viktor's_kind_of_a
      dick?, Emotions™, Anxiety, Panic_Attacks
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-02-08 Words: 14316
****** On Love: Agape ******
by kafrickinboom
Summary
     Sure, his Dedushka was (and still is) his original agape, and was
     responsible for his burgeoning understanding of the emotion - no one
     could take away from his grandfather's importance - but the
     comprehension always felt a bit...stunted, like the reach of Yuri's
     understanding fell short of the true scope of the emotion. Yesterday,
     he found what was missing in the form of one Yuuri Katsuki.
     (Sequel to Don't_Hide)
Notes
     **Sequel to Don't_Hide**
     I really wanted to write the day after from Yurio's perspective, so
     *jazz hands*! I hope you like it! :)
See the end of the work for more notes
Yuri Plisetsky was on top of the fucking world.
Last night, he lost his virginity in the most mind-blowing way possible ( pun
in-fucking-tended ) to his Katsudon (hell  yes ,  his  Katsudon...he thinks
with a smirk). This morning, he woke up early to that gorgeous, sleeping face
inches away from his own, and had been so energized by his bubbly feelings that
he had to skate them out, which was what he was currently doing. Later today,
he would kicking that beautiful man's ass in their short program, and he knew
this not only because of his dedication and hard work, but because after the
electric rush of hearing his Katsudon's declaration of love settled down, he
finally felt the missing piece of his  Agape  click into place.
Sure, his Dedushka was (and still is) his original  agape,  and was responsible
for his burgeoning understanding of the emotion - no one could take away from
his grandfather's importance - but the comprehension always felt a
bit...stunted, like the reach of Yuri's understanding fell short of the true
scope of the emotion. Yesterday, he found what was missing in the form of one
Yuuri Katsuki.
Agape , by definition, was the highest form of love. Purity. Charity. A love so
unconditional, it was mostly reserved for the reciprocal love between a person
and God. Yuri himself had never held much faith in the deity. It didn't mesh
with his view of the world. He much preferred the version of  agape  that
focused on the people you hold closest to you, the people you would do quite
literally anything for, selflessly and without hesitation or reservation, the
people who hadn't left when things were rough or when he was this side of too
much, and the people you had complete trust and faith in when they promised
they wouldn't. His Dedushka was one of those people who fit into all of those
categories. Yuuri Katsuki had somehow snuck his way into them as well.
Just thinking about the last 24 hours threw Yuri into a mental tailspin.
Surprise, confusion, anger (mostly at himself), despair (pretty much completely
at himself), and joy crash together and fall away in a veritable torrent of
emotion. It was exhausting trying to parse it all out. He wasn't used to
dealing with such complex emotions, really. What he'd felt had always just been
an amplified version of simpler emotions. Someone else might be angry where
Yuri would be furious. Another person might be sad where Yuri would be
devastated (though he'd never allow someone else to see beyond the masks of
wood and steel he desperately hid behind). To feel so many different emotions
in one fell swoop was...a lot. So much that he'd almost ruined it not even an
hour after it - whatever  it  is - started.
Yuri scowled at himself as he absently ran through the step sequences of his
short program. As happy and fulfilled as he felt about the validation of his
feelings and how amazing his first time was, he'd almost fucked it all up. He
couldn't pluck the image imprinted behind his eyes of his Katsudon's hurt,
overly bright eyes ruined with tears as he'd stumbled back as if Yuri had
physically slapped him, when Yuri had accused him of malicious intent out of
his head. He wouldn't soon forget the hollowed out feeling of panic as his
Katsudon left him to his own devices, alone with his mind reeling as he was
expected to just collect his shit and leave. He wouldn't ever forget the
crawling despair of hearing the man he loves bawling in that en suite bathroom.
The wet gasps for air and muffled whimpers would undoubtedly haunt Yuri for
years to come.
Yuri knew he was an asshole. He was aware he could be callous and hostile and
cutting and suspicious and he usually let his words run headlong out of his
mouth without considering their potential impact. He knew he thought with his
goals in mind first. He knew he had absolutely no idea how to navigate delicate
emotions and situations that call for softness, subtlety and a gentle hand. He
knew he didn't trust just about anyone and that that fact had a wealth of
potential reverberating consequences every time he questioned someone's
intentions. He knew all of this. It usually didn't bother him too much. He’d
created his armor for a reason. He didn't usually give too much thought to the
side-eyes or the indignation or the anger from other people. He had too much
riding on his shoulders and too much to focus on to worry about anyone in his
periphery. He needed to keep this train of success on track, ever moving
forward. He needed to win gold. He absolutely did not need to worry about
coddling anyone for hurting their precious, little feelings.
He knew in his mind that his Katsudon would be a bit of an exception even if he
refused to outwardly acknowledge it.
Ever since last year's Grand Prix Finale, mesmerized by Yuuri Katsuki's
footwork and grace, Yuri was hooked, googling Katsuki's stats and developing
the beginnings of what would end up being a massive crush. He would sooner cut
out his own tongue than admit it, but Yuri really admired Yuuri. His jumps
could certainly use some improvement, but he always picked himself up and
powered through. Even if his edges were frayed by nerves, you could see the
passion in every sweep of his blades on the ice. It was beautiful.
Ever since catching him crying like a little baby ( fucking rude,  his mind
chimed), that the brief feeling of celebrity-like admiration was cut short,
leaving him angry and feeling like he'd been betrayed somehow, like he'd been
cheated out of a worthwhile idol. Looking back, he cringed at his 14-year-old
selfishness and immaturity. He remembered the sharp thorn of annoyance and the
desire to help make it better, but having absolutely no clue how. He had no
experience dealing with other people's tears. The only thing he'd thought to do
was try and motivate him the way he knew best. Tell Yuri Plisetsky he won't,
shouldn't or absolutely  can't  do something and he's going to prove them all
wrong. Maybe this crybaby was the same.
(Clearly part of him was right, otherwise his Katsudon wouldn't have pushed
himself to get back on his feet instead of fading into obscurity,  right?
Yuuri had told him so last night, holding Yuri's face so tenderly and speaking
so sincerely. Yuri didn't want to acknowledge Viktor's significance in Yuuri's
technical and emotional improvement when he was in such a good mood.)
What he wasn't expecting was the subsequent guilt that came with remembering
the flinch he'd received when he got up in Yuuri's face last year. It was the
same flinch he'd received every time he cruelly called Yuuri "piggy" and it was
the same flinch he received last night, with the name-calling and thrown
accusations like barbs, deliberately sharp, like he hadn't learned a damn thing
in the last year of his own personal growth and knowing his Katsudon.
He frowned at himself, over-rotating his last signature quad salchow while so
deep in thought. He didn't like facing the uglier side of himself. He didn't
like admitting fear and weakness. He didn't like that he could look at this
beautiful man and tear him apart so effectively, so  efficiently , only
realizing his mistakes after the damage was done. He didn't like feeling
helpless in the face of his - lover's? Boyfriend's? - panic attacks,
especially  when Yuri himself was the catalyst for them. He had just been so
angry , a moment of bright, false clarity cultivated by his fear of being used.
He'd never been one for being emotionally open. He wasn't used to people around
him being so free with their true emotions aside from his dramatic пизда of a
rinkmate, Georgi, who grossed Yuri out consistently with his weird feelings of
entitlement and obsession toward his ex. Mila always played her own cards close
to the chest, so focused on what was going on in other people's lives and
changing the subject when anyone tried to dig into her own business. Yakov had
never been a bleeding heart and Lilia has proven to be no different. Viktor was
the king of manipulation, hidden feelings and unknown motives. He played an
audience like a fiddle and knew the exact degree of smiling watt power to throw
out to enamor the crowd. Not exactly the shining example of openness. His
parents were too self-centered to even be  parents,  let alone to teach him
emotional and communicative intelligence.
The best role model he'd had growing up was his Dedushka, and he had a habit of
hiding anything remotely serious from Yuri out of a desire not to burden him.
It was as endearing as it was infuriating. Yuri had always followed in his
footsteps, never letting anyone see the soft inner pieces of his onion heart
( note to self: tell Georgi to go fuck himself for the Shrek suggestion ).
He had no real preparation for the depth of emotion his Katsudon wore on his
sleeve. He was caught breathless with the self-inflicted turmoil caused by
hurting the man he'd grown to care about so deeply. He was blindsided by the
comprehension that this whole time he's been jealous of Viktor for being so
close to Yuuri, Yuuri's mind was on  him . He never, in a million years, would
have thought that his Katsudon would push through the sharp edges and the
raised hackles and accept him just as he is. He never expected a declaration of
being missed and the knowledge that he was  loved . A love that stretched out
toward him, nervous and hopeful and tentative, finding that, regardless of the
near-blinding terror, he wanted to meet it with open arms. Love outside of a
familial bond, without hidden motives or an angle, or expectations or a desire
to change him. Being loved for being himself.  Unconditional  love.  Agape .
Being the only one on the ice this early in the morning, Yuri tilted his face
up with a relaxed smile, closing his eyes for a moment and allowing himself the
freedom to  feel.  To not have to hide his attraction behind a scowl and
cutting words. To feel light as a feather, carried away on the floaty sensation
of genuine emotional reciprocation. To  love.  He might not have been able to
say it to his Katsudon just yet, but the feeling was there, warming him from
the inside out. He felt giddy, not that he'd ever tell  anyone  that.
He spread his arms, falling into the beginning of his  Agape  routine. It had
never felt this easy in any of the previous months of practice and competition.
Not with focusing only on his Dedushka. Not with the rigorous ballet training.
Not with trying his best to  act  as if he had a full comprehension of the
complex emotion he was trying to emulate. Thinking of his self-aware, loving,
nervous, beautiful, frustrating, accepting, warm, complex Katsudon -  that  was
the key to propel him to his best  Agape  practice to date.
Throwing himself into his quads with ease, he tested Tano jumps, aiming to blow
everyone in the crowd - particularly a certain handsome competitor - away. He
wasn't quite sure if he'd use them later in the day or if he'd save it for
Barcelona, but the effortlessness that came to him proved that he was more than
ready to make good on his promise to kick his Katsudon's ass.
He finished the routine, back arched back, hands clasped and reaching toward
the ceiling, smothering the beatific smile that wanted to creep to his lips.
He'd been here long enough for anyone to possibly walk in on him and he
wouldn't allow anyone to see this just yet. For now, this was just his and his
Katsudon’s.
 
---
 
Yuri was putting on his skate guards when his Katsudon burst into the rink
looking tense and disheveled, like he hadn't done much more than run his hands
through his hair before leaving the hotel room. He didn't seem to notice Yuri
sitting off to his side, but his eyes seemed to be searching for something or
some one (me?)  and he was fidgeting again - a clear indicator that he was
feeling anxious. Yuri was just about to walk up to see if he could do something
-  anything  - to help when seeing Viktor come trailing close behind his
Katsudon stopped him short.
Yuri trusted Yuuri when he'd said he wanted Yuri for  Yuri . He trusted that
the older man wouldn't lie to him or lead him on. He didn't trust Viktor to
keep his hands to himself or to flirt and charm his way in between Yuri and his
Katsudon. It's not as if he knew about the shift in Yuuri's relationship
status.
What shift?  His traitorous mind whispered.  You haven't defined anything. You
might have shared something last night, but that doesn't mean he's yours.
Unease sank to his stomach as he thought about the fact that he didn't actually
know what this development in their connection really meant. Would he even want
that? Would  Katsudon  even want that? He imagined so, but Yuri wasn't sure the
older man would want the pressure and added stress of a… relationship.  Yuri
curled his lip at imagining the outcome of them coming forward with their
budding... thing.
The media would have a heyday, hounding both himself and his Katsudon. He knew
he was only 15, just shy of the legal age of consent in his home country, but
still not quite old enough to be considered an adult, so anyone with a remotely
conservative mindset would flip their shit over it. The Angels would either
come for Yuri's or Yuuri's blood, and he honestly wasn't sure which was more
terrifying. Their friends would never let them hear the end of it, throwing
their opinions and judgment wherever they deemed fit. His Dedushka...Yuri
wasn't sure what his grandfather's reaction would be, but he was almost certain
it couldn't be anything good.
Yuri looked up, troubled and still decently hidden from view, and watched the
ease in which his Katsudon and Viktor moved around each other. He watched their
passive physicality and affection. It was a flow that came with practice and
being around each other long enough for the sharper edges to be smoothed down.
Something he and Yuuri hadn't had the time or opportunity to develop.
Yuri scowled fiercely, choking down the jealousy and rage trying to claw its
way to the surface. He debated putting himself between the two, aggressively
staking some sort of claim. He wanted to tell his former mentor off for the
comforting hand on his Katsudon's shoulder, but decided against it. Viktor
didn't know what was going on. Hell, Yuri didn’t know what was going on.  Why
was Katsudon looking increasingly distressed? Was he really that concerned
about his upcoming performance?  Anyway, his potential outburst would only
result in Katsudon giving him that vaguely disappointed look that never failed
to royally piss him off and chasten him in turn.
He wanted to go to Yuuri, to provide as much comfort as his inexperienced self
could. He swallowed around the tightness in his throat thinking about the fact
that Viktor was undoubtedly the better option for calming his Katsudon down,
for providing comfort. Instead, he backed away and snuck out of the arena
quietly, avoiding being caught, intent on finding food and solitude to clear
his head of the downward turn it was currently taking.
He had just had the best practice skate of the season, maybe of his life, and
just a few minutes of watching Viktor fret over his Katsudon like it was his
job ( it technically is, but that's not the fucking point ) was enough to sour
his mood. He checked the time. Four hours until he absolutely had to be ready
to step on the ice. Until he would skate his  Agape.
He wasn't feeling very fucking  agape  right now. Irrationality was his
specialty, jumping to conclusions and letting himself grow volatile as the
negative emotions built pressure, threatening to blow up on those in his path.
He needed to let this insecurity  go , which was decidedly  not  his specialty.
Yuri was a creature of dwelling on things, on letting molehills of emotion
build up to mountains, on tentatively forgiving but  never  forgetting, on
grudges, on being and feeling emotionally inept and constantly being angry
about it. Yuri was also prone to finding sharp edges and offenses that weren't
even meant to be there.
All of that shit is why he built his armor in the first place. No one could
hurt you if they couldn't find your vulnerabilities - if they couldn't see the
the real you. No one could even affect you if you kept them at a distance. At
least...that's what he told himself as he pushed down the cloying melancholy
and self-doubt prickling behind his eyes.
He set his mask to one of his usual bitch face as he wrestled to remember the
soft touches of the previous night, the wildfire of emotion, the stark honesty
and simplicity in Yuuri's inadvertent declaration, like it was such a simple
thing to love Yuri.
Yuri felt his lip tremble as his mind repeated  unlovable  in his head like a
broken record. It wasn't the first time he'd thought this, and it probably
wouldn't be the last. He thought of himself in comparison to Viktor, who was
warm and easy to talk to and had a damn perma-smile on his face, willing to
help even if it fell flat. Viktor was also tall and handsome and  an adult.  A
consecutive five-time winner of the Grand Prix, an  Olympian , he was already
successful in a way that Yuri was only hoping to become at this point. Yuri
wasn't extroverted and stoic in the face of opposition or criticism like
Viktor. He wasn't charming or charismatic or carefree like Viktor. Yuri didn't
understand his own appeal. He couldn't wrap his head around what Yuuri
apparently saw. What good is passion and intensity when he couldn't be a
comfort, when he hurt his Katsudon, when he turned such an amazing night to
something emotionally draining?
Yuri shook his head as if the motion could physically dislodge the doubts in
his head, their claws sunken in and refusing to be torn out.
He entered the first restaurant he walked by, a small Italian restaurant where
he could sit off in the corner to try and stop the self-inflicted barbs from
digging themselves any deeper. He ordered himself minestrone at the counter,
paid and went to sit down only to be stopped by the only person more fucking
annoying to him than Viktor Nikiforov at the moment.
“Hey, Yurio! That's what they're calling you now, right? Come sit with me while
I wait for Isabella to meet me.” JJ “Asshole Supreme” Leroy called out to him.
Yuri sneered in response and went to sit at a table on the other side of the
little shop. His sneer morphed into a full-on rage face as he watched JJ
collect his shit, sauntered into his space and sat across from him like he was
fucking invited.
“What the fuck do you want?” Yuri grinds out.
JJ smirked like he hadn't a care in the damn world. “You look a little keyed
up, Yurio. What's wrong? Worried you won't medal? Don't worry, you could take
silver beside me if Chris flubs it, and you could easily take bronze.”
Yuri jerked back in disbelief.  Is this motherfucker serious?  “No, asshole,
I'm not worried about the fact that I'm going to crush you today. I've got
other shit to worry about.” Yuri snapped his mouth closed, scowling. Did he
really just admit he's worried about something to this asswipe? Apparently so.
JJ’s face faltered, an edge of concern shining through. It was the first time
Yuri had seen an emotion beyond the limited confidence, cockiness, smug and
generally ‘douche’ emotional range JJ rocks. It made Yuri wary.
“Is… Look, I know you hate me, and I know we have this rivalry or whatever, but
seriously… You okay?” JJ looked a bit uncertain as he tried to keep the tone
light. “I'd rather take the gold from someone fairly than by beating him
because his head's not in it.”
Yuri furrowed his brows, frowning as he studied JJ’s face. He looked sincere,
which is fucking bizarre in and of itself, but add that to  concern ? Yuri
looked around as if looking for a hidden camera before remembering that this
guy wasn't the same kind of person as his Katsudon's friend. Phichit or
whatever. Still, he didn't think he wanted to talk to King Douche-Douche about
his insecurities, so he wiped all expression from his face, blankly stating,
“I'm fine.”
Frustration colored JJ’s expression for a moment before sighing, shaking
himself. “Alright, I'm gonna ask you a few questions and we can go from there.”
Ignoring Yuri’s indignant noise of protest, he sat up straight, throwing
questions in a quickfire. “Is it your grandfather? I remember the commentator
saying something about him being your inspiration for your  Agape
performance.” Yuri’s brows reached high, stunned. He shook his head no. “Is it
nerves?” Yuri scowled. “Okay, no. We went over that already.” JJ’s smile grew
sly as he ask, “Is it a...girl problem?”
Something must have passed over Yuri's face because JJ looked triumphant. He
looked self-satisfied as the waiter brought out Yuri's food.
“Shut up,” Yuri spat once the waiter left. “It's none of your concern.”
JJ shook his head again, smug look falling away. “It is when this could affect
your ability to give me a good fight. Besides, it's not as if I'm some
heartless asshole. I've had my fair share of girl problems in the past. Maybe I
can help.” Sighing, he looked off to the side as if giving Yuri a bit of
privacy as he collected his thoughts...or like he didn't want to see the denial
on Yuri's face.
Except Yuri didn't deny him. Yuri sat and stared at the man across from him,
stunned again by this assho- by  JJ  -offering him actual help. Plus, it's not
as if JJ could possibly know he'd be asking relationship advice about Yuuri,
especially since he didn't even have the gender right. Maybe if he played it
right, Yuri could glean some actual insight from this annoying pesterer.
Looking supremely uncomfortable, Yuri shifted in his seat and gave a simple,
“fine.”
JJ jerked, astounded expression on his face before laughing disbelievingly. “I…
Yeah, okay, so what's wrong? Did you and this girl fight?”
Yuri grimaced, not meeting JJ's eyes and gave a curt “no.” He noticed that his
prickly demeanor was giving his companion a vaguely tense look, like maybe he
was regretting going down this line of conversation. Heaving a great sigh, Yuri
continued, careful not to trip on any pronouns. “Not even a week ago, I would
have been hesitant to call us ‘friends,’ let alone...whatever we are now.” JJ's
eyes narrowed. “We may have skipped a few steps in the line from point A
to...what the fuck ever point we are now, and I don't know how to talk to h-her
about it. Plus, she's always with some other guy she's known and,” Yuri
admitted as his grimace deepened, “admired longer...who may or may not be
better for her. She said she loved me, but this guy...he has so much more to
offer her.” Yuri scowled down at his soup, feeling nauseous as he avoided JJ's
eyes. He swallowed down around the feeling lodged up in his throat. He couldn’t
believe he’d just said all of that aloud, to  JJ Leroy  of all people. Feeling
a maelstrom of negative emotion bubbling up, he covered it with a stony
expression. “Forget it. This is stupid. I don't know why I'm talking to you
about this.”
Chuckling, JJ ran a hand over his face, ignoring Yuri's last statement. “Yeah,
Yurio. This  is  pretty stupid, even for you.”
Blood ran out of Yuri's face, feeling a touch more choked.  Had JJ just
validated Yuri's fears?  “Excuse me?!” he demanded.
“Yeah, I mean...where do  you  get off deciding what's best for this girl? Did
she  tell you this other dude was better for her?” JJ's eyes glinted
challengingly. “Because unless you left that bit out, I'm assuming that's a
‘no.’” His eyes slid to something a bit kinder. “Look, man. I know you
haven't...‘defined the relationship’ or whatever, and I know you're still
pretty young, so I get it. I was pretty insecure in the romance department when
I was your age too.” Yuri scowled at the reminder of his youth. “Don't give me
that. We're all young before we grow up. It's a fact of life. Anyway, Isabella
and I didn't really start dating until I was about your age. We had a pretty
bumpy start, too, since 100% of my focus was on skating. I wouldn't sweat it
unless your girl explicitly told you there was a problem.”
Again, for the - fourth? Fifth? - time since sitting down, Yuri was stunned.
JJ fucking Leroy, King Douche-Douche, Canada's most egocentric man, just gave
Yuri some solid, sound advice.  Pursing his lips, Yuri ran over his thought
process since seeing his Katsudon with Viktor. Hell, since last night when he'd
accused Yuuri of purposefully trying to distract him ( which he was currently
fucking doing, but now Yuri knew it wasn't intentional. )  Yuri  had decided
that Yuuri was tricking him.  Yuri  had decided he was too young, too prickly,
too mean for Yuuri.  Yuri  had decided that Yuuri hated him, that he had
feelings for Viktor. His Katsudon didn't tell him any of that shit. Yuri had
determined that all on his own. He'd looked Yuuri right in the eyes and told
him how Yuuri felt like he had any right to do so. Yuri looked at JJ's
unruffled self, horrified with himself, but - and he hated admitting this  and
fucking wouldn't admit it to anyone but himself  - he was thankful that JJ had
beaten Yuri's insecurities down with a one-two punch of logic and a different
frame of reference.
Feeling lighter than he had since stepping off the ice that morning, Yuri's
face cleared of the thunder. He graced JJ with a small smile and decided,  fuck
it . “No one's going to believe you if you tell them I said this later,
but...thank you. I hadn't thought of it that way.”
“You're welcome.” JJ said, shrugging, simple as that, like the fact that he'd
probably just saved Yuri's mood was nothing. He opened his mouth to continue
when Isabella cut in, surprising both of them.
“We eating with little Yurio today?” She asked innocently. Yuri scowled up at
her, then back at JJ, just  daring  him to continue this Lifetime Moment.
JJ smirked, understanding colored in his eyes. “Nah. Let's leave him here to
think about how the view from my left will look when I take gold later.”
Yuri threw a curse at JJ's turned back and went back to eating, feeling content
and a bit like punching himself in the face.
What the actual fuck is with these last 24 hours?  He thought. The emotional
rollercoaster of the last day had done a weird thing to time, making it feel
like an entire week of events had been stuffed into a shorter period of time.
Yuri mentally listed the shit that had happened to him: he returned to Moscow
for the first time in what felt like ages; he lost his virginity to the (older,
beautiful,  sexy ) man he loved; almost had a panic attack when he basically
rejected Yuuri; he was told  he  was loved by said older, beautiful,  sexy
man; he understood  agape ; he slept with his Katsudon in a nonsexual context,
which felt even more intimate than the sex; he’d skated his best; he almost had
an emotional nuclear explosion because of his own insecurities; had a fucking
heart-to-heart  with  JJ … Was he in an alternate universe? Was he on reality
TV?
Finishing up, he shook his head at himself and set out to catch a cab back to
the hotel to do some stretching and to meet with Yakov to go over any last-
minute things. His coach was probably ready to chew his ear off, which...was
funny. He hadn't remembered hearing his phone go off all day. He didn’t recall
a notification from his Katsudon either - which thinking back, that may have
been part of the rising anger and confusion he'd been dealing with all day. Too
preoccupied with skating and his tempestuous emotions, he didn't think he'd
heard his phone go off even once.
Furrowing his brows, he checked his pockets, then his bag when his check came
up unfruitful.  Fuck,  he'd lost his phone. Thinking back, Yuri didn't recall
taking his phone to the rink either, running high on the events of the previous
night (and waking up next to that beautiful face). He'd crept out of bed, his
Katsudon sleeping all the while, quietly dressed, collected his things and
left, intending to get some solo practice in before meeting up with Yuuri later
or something. Retracing his steps, he couldn't recall grabbing his phone.
Yakov was going to slaughter him.
Biting his lip, he rushed out of the restaurant, not even pausing to answer the
farewells from JJ and Isabella more than a lifted hand, and hailed a cab. The
ride to the hotel should have only taken a few minutes, but he didn't think
he'd actually gone without his phone for more than an hour or two during
practice let alone half a day. Now that he was aware of its absence, he felt a
bit untethered, wondering how many missed calls and voicemails he was going to
have when he checked again. He wondered how many were from his Katsudon.
Pulling up to the hotel, he quickly thanked and paid the driver, and rushed to
the elevators. He flushed on the ride up, remembering the heat and the itch to
touch when Yuuri had backed him against the wall. He fought a cringe at
recalling his reaction to hearing his given name spoken so softly, so close to
his own lips. He'd felt as if using his name was too much of an intimate thing
for his Katsudon to do. He didn't know how to handle it. He's been given so
many monikers - the Ice Tiger of Russia, the Russian Fairy, the Russian  Punk ,
Kitten (much to his chagrin), the “other Yuri”, fucking  Yurio  - that hearing
his own name spoken by anyone besides Yakov, Lilia and his Dedushka, elders and
family, felt too  personal.  He regretted that his involuntary response had
caused that handsome face to crumple to one of hurt and confusion.
It's fine. We ended on a high note last night.  Yuri smirked to himself,
flushed as he exited the elevator that had landed at his Katsudon's floor. He
really did need his phone back. He just hoped he'd catch Yuuri there. Who knows
what he was doing right now. For all Yuri knew, he could be practicing.
He knocked on the door, foot tapping a nervous beat as he put on his confident
mask. He wouldn't want his Katsudon to see him nervous. He breathed out a sigh
of relief as the door swung open, though his small smile cut short as Viktor
looked back at him, smiling but confused.
Shit.  Yuri hadn't even considered Viktor might have been in there with Yuuri.
Yuri fought to contain the tidal wave of jealousy and vulnerability from
showing on his face as he fit himself into his usual aggressive stance.
“What are you doing here, Kitten?” Viktor asked, blithely ignoring the glower
cast at him.
Yuri racked his brain, trying to come up with a suitable excuse as to why he
was knocking on Yuuri's door in the middle of the day, mere hours before they
were set to compete. Drawing a blank, he glared harder at Viktor. “Is the piggy
here?” he asked rancorously, stopping himself from flinching away from his own
wording. He really hoped his Katsudon hadn't heard that.
The smile on Viktor's face evaporated, leaving an unimpressed expression. He
tilted his head, studying Yuri. Subtly digging his nails into his palms, Yuri
waited Viktor out. Either his Katsudon was there or he was not. He wanted his
phone back but he wasn't about to ask Viktor if he could retrieve it. Awkwardly
enough, he didn't have to.
“Looking for this?” Viktor asked, voice devoid of tone, holding up Yuri's
damnable phone. Yuri froze as Viktor continued, tone falsely light. “It's
funny. I knew you could be mean to just about everyone, even people you care
about, but I hadn't actually expected you to be so  cruel .” Viktor shoved the
phone into Yuri's chest. “I don't know all of what happened yesterday, and I
don't  want  to know, but sometime between then and now you hurt Yuuri. I don't
think he needs you to set him off even more than you already have.”
Yuri felt as if the floor had dropped out from underneath him. What the fuck
was Viktor talking about? He hadn't done anything beyond the mistakes of
yesterday…and forgetting his phone. He'd  hurt  his Katsudon...again? There's
no fucking way. Maybe Viktor meant by “ignoring” him  (which he wouldn’t have
purposefully done if he'd had his phone).  Regrouping, he decided he just
needed to apologize for the the accident. His eyes flashed dangerously at his
former mentor. “Let me see him, old man. I need to talk to him.”
Viktor's gaze grew flinty, undoubtedly ready to send Yuri on his way, before
his eyes peered over Yuri's shoulder. His expression cleared for the most part,
a bright  (fake)  smile spreading across his face, but his tone held an
uncertain air about it. “Ah, Yuuri! I was just returning Yurio's phone to him
so he could be on his way! You should consider showering since you look like an
absolute mess,” he said, and moved to push a wooden Yuri out of the way.
Yuri snapped out of it, smacking Viktor's hand off of him, and turned to face
Yuuri. He really did look like a mess. His cheeks were ruddy and his hair was
clumped together, a little greasy. His glasses were a little crooked to the
point that Yuri had to smother the itch to adjust them. Yuuri's shoulders were
slumped and he wouldn't meet Yuri's eyes, which was probably the most
disconcerting part of the picture made before him.
Yuri stepped forward a bit, frown hooking his lips further down as Yuuri
tensed. “Can I talk to you, Katsudon?” He asked.
Biting his lip and  still  refusing to look him in the eye, his Katsudon took a
shaky breath and nodded. “Y-yeah. Viktor, I'll meet you downstairs in a bit,
okay? I'll text you when I'm ready.”
Disapproval swept through every line of Viktor's body, but he didn't fight
Yuuri's choice. He nodded his assent, mumbling in Russian - something about not
seeing the point, and Yuri scowled at his back as he left him and his Katsudon
alone.
Without saying a word, Yuuri entered the hotel room, head down and reticent.
Yuri followed, frown pulling ever deeper and closed the door behind them.
Tucking his phone safely in his pocket, he laid a hand on his Katsudon's
shoulder, aiming to turn him around, only to be shrugged off. Yuri jerked his
hand back, stung.
“You asked me my motives yesterday, and it hurt pretty badly to think you would
think so lowly of me - that I'd only have s-sex with you as- as some sort of
distraction, but,” he tripped out, looking up into Yuri's eyes with tears in
his own, “I never asked you of yours. What-” he sobbed, effectively crushing
Yuri's heart. Yuuri's eyes tore away from his again as he choked out, “what was
this to you?”
As if rooted to the ground, Yuri stopped stock still. His heart lurched at the
tears and devastation on his Katsudon's face, at the inward curl of his
shoulders, so similar to when he'd attempted to make himself smaller just last
night. Yuri had no clue what to say.  This was the best thing to have ever
happened to me?  No, too mushy.  This was  agape?   Hell no. Too fucking cliche
and gross.  This was...everything.  It was as good as anything else, he
supposed. His contemplation must have run Yuuri's patience dry because just as
Yuri’d opened his mouth to tell him just that, Yuuri snapped.
“WHAT WAS THIS?!” He cried, anguished.
“IT WAS EVERYTHING, OKAY? IT WAS FUCKING EVERYTHING.”  God damn  his
reactionary bullshit.  Yuri hadn't meant to snap back. He'd wanted to keep it
cool, maintain a sense of level-headedness, to stay calm and collected. Then
again, when had any of those adjectives been good descriptor words for Yuri? He
slumped, running both hands over his face. “What the fuck, Katsudon. I
don't...I don't understand what the issue is. We had an amazing night last
night,  da?  I know I fucked it up, but I thought we'd, ah, we'd talked it
through. What did I do wrong now?” Yuri dropped his hands, feeling dejected.
Yuuri's eyes hardened, a disconcerting look what with the tears in his eyes.
“You  left  me without warning, without a note, without  any word.  You snuck
out after I said I l-love you and you-you-” Yuuri cut off as he started
hyperventilating.
Yuri dropped his bag off to the side, quickly coming to draw his silly Katsudon
into his arms. He held tight despite Yuuri's halfhearted shoving, running his
fingers through the back of Yuuri's hair. The other hand traced random patterns
along Yuuri's back as he spoke low into his ear, murmuring about how amazing
last night had been.
Yuri wanted his Katsudon to calm down before he explained himself. That desire
to punch himself he thought about earlier? Yeah, if that could come with a
secondary left hook, that'd be great. If he could time-travel and kick his own
ass on-sight for leaving the room without so much as a by-your-leave, we would.
He felt like a fucking piece of shit for not having the presence of mind to
leave a fucking note.  He'd, for some reason, assumed he'd just see Yuuri later
and that would be that. He didn't even consider the implication of him just
leaving without saying anything. He'd honestly just wanted his Katsudon to get
a good rest (Yuri had noticed the ever-present circles under his eyes the last
time he'd seen Yuuri), and wanted to skate while the good feelings were so
blinding bright.  I'm a fucking idiot.
Eventually, Yuuri settled down, fingers clutched tight into Yuri's shirt and
shakily rested his forehead against Yuri's collarbone. Yuri swallowed heavily,
squeezing his Katsudon tighter to him as he spoke, quietly and clearly. “I am a
fucking idiot. I didn't think. I never intended for you to get, I don't
know...anxious or doubt me. I thought we'd just see each other before the
competition and it'd be fine. God, I'm so stupid. I know it's not an excuse,
but I've never been good at, you know, checking in and...I forgot my damn
phone. If I'd had my phone, we wouldn't have be having this problem, I guess.
I...I'm sorry, Katsudon.”
Yuuri jolted against him. He pulled away from Yuri, and looked as if he was
checking for signs of illness. He ran an unsteady hand over Yuri's forehead
with a watery laugh. “Did you actually just...apologize, Yurio? I can't
remember you ever doing that.”
Yuri looked off to the side and dropped his hands to his sides, closing off.
While he loved that his Katsudon was smiling again, he didn't like being mocked
when he was being sincere. He almost jerked when soft fingers tilted his face
back to look at Yuuri.
“Now  I'm  sorry. I shouldn't have teased you when you were being serious.”
Yuuri said apologetically. “Please don't hide.”
Please don't hide.  That was going to become a  thing  for them, wasn't it?
Yuri couldn't help but smile, flush riding high on his cheeks, thinking about
the last time those words were murmured. He bit his lip, eyes landing on his
Katsudon's lips, wondering if it was okay to kiss him. Huffing lightly, Yuuri
smiled as he tipped Yuri's head up, hesitantly meeting his lips with Yuuri's
own.
Yuri wondered if he'd always feel like he did when he kissed his Katsudon. It
was electrifying, a type of buzzing static that filled him to the brim,
extending to his extremities, making him want to never stop. Yuri's body fell
lax against his - lover's, boyfriend's,  TBD  - arms, groaning into the other's
lips. He slid his hands along the sides of Yuuri's neck, guiding him closer,
and bit into his bottom lip.
Yuuri whimpered against his lips, but gripped his wrists, stopping him. “We
have to stop, Yuri. We don't have time for much more than this right now.
Besides, it's only a matter of time before Viktor grows impatient enough to try
to barge in.” Katsudon grimaced.
Yuri pulled his Katsudon in for one more hard kiss before releasing him,
smirking at the slightly dazed look across Yuuri's face, loving the physical
proof of the effect he had on the older man. Remembering the weirdness in the
hall not even 10 minutes before, Yuri reluctantly asked, “does Viktor know?
About us? About...whatever...we are?” He couldn't suppress the grimace even if
he'd put in the effort to try. Yuuri's rounded, nervous eyes were telling, but
Yuri pursed his lips, wanting to hear it out loud.
“I-I didn't tell him anything, but with both sides of the bed a wreck and your
phone left sitting on the nightstand was probably enough for him to come to his
own conclusion.” Yuuri rubbed the back of his neck, turning away. Yuri's brows
furrowed as his Katsudon asked, “about that, Yuri…” Yuri tensed without his
permission. Yuuri paused, straightening before he turned back around, looking
Yuri right in the eye. “Wh-what is… What are we? What do you  want  us to be?”
Yuri's brows climbed high as he volleyed the question back to Yuuri. “What do
you  want us to be, Katsudon?”
They stared at one another, a standstill, each waiting for the other to break.
Yuri wasn't exactly the pinnacle of patience though, and with the series events
that had already taken its pound of flesh, he felt like he was almost at the
end of his fraying rope. He could feel his face was growing wooden the longer
he waited.
Exasperated, he opened his mouth, ready to cave when his phone went off. It was
only when he checked his phone that he realized he had  58  missed calls, at
least half of them from his coach. Cringing, he apologized to his Katsudon,
holding a finger up to pause the conversation. Hesitantly, he answered.
Loud, angry Russian poured from his phone. He'd had to pull the phone away from
his face it was so loud, and Yakov wasn't even on speakerphone. He couldn't get
a word in edgewise, and was ordered to “get [his] little, unappreciative ass to
his room  this instant"  before the call ended. He'd pissed off Yakov in the
past, but he couldn't recall it ever being quite like that, not even when he'd
left for Japan without warning.
Staring at his phone in disbelief, he cleared his throat. “Ah, Yuuri… I have to
go. Yakov has been trying to get a hold of me since,” he scrolled through his
missed call list, raising his brows, “ shit,  since last night.” He felt the
heat spread up to his ears, surely visible to the older man.  Damn this pale
complexion.  “Can we...finish this conversation later tonight? Maybe after our
short programs?”
His Katsudon's face was an approximation of patience, but Yuri could see the
war between understanding and exasperation lining his eyes. Yuuri bit his
bottom lip and nodded, peering into the middle distance, a sullen expression
beginning to take shape.  Unacceptable.
Noting the older man's reluctance, Yuri caressed his cheek, thumbing over his
bottom lip, and tugging it enough to elicit a gasp just like he'd done last
night. “If you’re worried about leaving this unsettled, don't. We  will  have
that conversation later.” He drew Yuuri into a hard kiss again, tongue teasing
over the line he'd previously drawn, pulling away at the helpless moan he was
granted. Yuri had to bite his lip to stop the grin from spreading too wide. The
shaky exhalation from his Katsudon was thrilling, the effect he had on the
older man addicting. Yuri was sorely tempted to make Yakov wait a bit longer,
just to see what other noises he could pull from Yuuri, but as he checked his
phone for the time, he cursed. Grabbing his bag, he headed to the door, but not
before turning and winking. “I'll see you after I kick your ass.” He said with
a smile, leaving a sputtering Katsudon in his wake.
 
---
 
Yuri couldn’t focus on his upcoming performance for anything.
Yakov had tried to keep Yuri's attention through his Katsudon's routine to run
through his usual pep talk, especially after being torn a new one for a full 15
minutes about ghosting on his coaches and irresponsibility, but most of his
focus was torn between the absence of his Dedushka and the way Yuuri's body
moved on the ice.
Entranced, he watched as his Katsudon danced over the ice, the fabric of his
costume hugging the firm muscles Yuri knew his clothing hid. Yuuri seemed to be
giving it his all tonight, first with the bold lip-licking and kiss he blew to
the judges, and now with his impassioned movements, throwing himself into jumps
with more confidence than Yuri had previously yet to see.
He hadn't had time to see his Katsudon at all between meeting up with Yakov and
when Yuuri stepped on the ice. Rather, he showed up just in time to watch the
older man perform.
And thank fuck for that,  Yuri thought, his eyes trailing down the length of
Yuuri's body as he entered the spread eagle, widening at the technical
perfection of his triple axel. Yuri feels his heart skip, lips stretching into
a proud smile as his Katsudon lands the quad salchow not long after. Yuuri's
movements were tinged with complete confidence in his  Eros.  Yuri flushed as
he thought of that body twisting beneath his hands, of the desire for that
confidence to rear its head more often, maybe even in the bedroom. Yuri had to
shake his head to dispel the thoughts before he embarrassed himself by getting
hard in front of everyone. He flushed thinking of what the internet would do
with that information. He refocused on his Katsudon, paying more attention
specifically to the technicality of his performance so as to not fall back into
the rush of arousal flowing through him.
He'd honestly never seen Yuuri skate so beautifully. He was taken aback by the
marked improvement he'd shown since the Onsen on Ice competition.  This  was
the Yuuri Yuri believed in the year previous.  This  was the Yuuri the world
deserved to see.  This  was the Yuuri Yuri was thrilled to compete against.
Yuri had to cross his arms to physically hold himself back from applauding,
from cheering for his Katsudon. He smirked, thinking of how hard he would have
to push himself to crush Yuuri.
He'd noticed Viktor's gawking from the periphery. He'd seen how the older man's
cheers cut off once Yuri was in his line of sight. Yuri also knew what he
looked like. It wasn't until his Katsudon, coming off the ice, stopped short
when he saw Yuri that he felt his skin begin to heat beneath his collar. A
gasp, a dropped jaw and a flash of heated eyes were all it took for the pink to
rush to Yuri's cheeks, biting his lip to contain the shy smile that was just
itching  to make itself present. Yuri forced himself to straighten up, hand
confidently on his hip. He put on the most convincingly disinterested mask he
could, raising his eyebrow disdainfully.
“Get out of my way, Katsudon.” He said, probably not as sharp as he would have
in the months leading up to last night, but sharp enough that anyone who didn't
know the subtle nuances in Yuri's aggressive tone wouldn't be suspicious. He
walked past a beaming Yuuri, stepping onto the ice. He hid his face behind his
hair and allowed himself one small smile as he let the  agape  he felt for his
Katsudon wash over him.
After a few moments, the smile on his face wore off as he thought of his other
half of his performance preparation.  Dedushka.
Yuri didn't know why his Dedushka wasn't there. His most plausible guesses were
that his grandfather either got caught up at work again and hadn't noticed the
time...or that he got sick again and went the hospital. Why else wouldn't he be
there? Perhaps the car was acting up. Perhaps he was stuck in traffic. Perhaps
he choked on his dinner. Perhaps his heart was giving out. His breathing was
coming a bit heavier.  Is this what a panic attack feels like?  The edges of
his vision were going a little hazy as the telltale sound of Yakov and Lilia’s
last-minute motivational speeches faded to the background.
“109.97!” The commentator cried and Yuri's head snapped up in surprise,
effectively distracting him, cutting through the anxiety. His Katsudon beat his
own personal best  again.  The feeling of pride for Yuuri was cut short as he
watched Viktor lean down to kiss  his  Katsudon's skate. To anyone else, it
probably looked like affection between lovers, especially after that kiss at
the Cup of China. A flood of disbelief, jealousy and rage surged through him.
That fucking asshat. What the fuck is he doing?  He glared as hard as he could,
imagining his laser vision burning a bald spot into the side of Viktor's head.
 "Davai!"  His Katsudon called out to him, a helpless smile on his face.
Davai? That's all Yuuri had to say? All he'd do? Fucking ‘davai?!'
 "Davai!"  Viktor echoed, inane smile on his face but his eyes sharp, and
Yuri's rage fucking exploded. He felt his face contort to one of fury as he
raced to the center of the ice. With the renewed jealousy and anger flowing
through him and the nausea-inducing worry for his  Dedushka,  he wasn't feeling
very  agape  right now.  Fucking fuck.
He took three steadying breaths as the announcer presented him and settled
himself into his starting pose. The jealousy he'd all but obliterated just
hours earlier came back with vengeance.
He saw the fucking kiss at the Cup of China. Sure, from what he saw of Yuuri's
face, he looked uncomfortable,  but it happened,  and neither he nor Yuri had
brought it up. They hadn't talked about it at all. They had yet to talk about
figuring out just what they  were  and now, Viktor was  kissing his skate  like
he had the right to do so? Yuri clenched and unclenched his fists in turn as he
tried to contain the stomach-turning self-doubt and anxiety.
The music began and he was off, and he had to actively try to make his moves
softer, to show the evolution of  agape  he had come to realize over the last
few months, for his Katsudon and his  Dedushka.  Thinking of his grandfather
sent another spike of worry through him, just as he threw himself into his
first jump - a triple axel - he fell, angrily noting to himself that he hadn't
missed that one at all this season.
He flew over the ice, chanting  don't hide, don't hide, don't hide,  using the
words as a touchstone to recall how he felt in those moments with his Katsudon.
He decided to stop focusing on his  Dedushka  this time as that line of thought
would only result in worry and panic at the moment, and instead focused on the
positive things he could think of. He needed to immolate the suffocating
jealousy if his short program was going to retain any emotional integrity. He
recalled the wildfire of emotion that burned in him as Yuuri revealed that he
loved Yuri exactly as he is. He melted into his flying sit spin, letting the
memories and feelings break through the cloying anger built up inside. By the
time he landed his quad salchow, triple toe loop, he was back on track. Maybe
not to the level of calm he was pre-Viktor kissing his Katsudon's skate, but
close enough to glide through the rest of his routine without another hiccup.
The world around him blurred as he poured as much of himself into the program
as he could. The only thing he heard was the music. The only thing he saw was
Yuuri's face lit up from within, free of tension and anxiety. The only thing he
thought was that he'd do just about anything short of throw a competition for
Yuuri, letting his body be carried away by muscle memory, letting his feelings
flow from his mind outward. He decided not to hide himself away so fully.
Yuri finished his program, back arched, hands clasped and reaching for the sky.
The feelings of lightness and ease trickled out of him as he bowed to the
audience, preparing to reenter the real world rather than the place of happy
memories and syrupy feelings he'd just dwelled in. The crowd roared for him,
throwing out flowers and stuffed animals as they usually did. Somehow a pair of
cat ears landed on his head and he glared disdainfully, overhearing some of his
fans squealing about how  cute  he was as he left the ice.
He determinedly avoided looking at both Viktor and Yuuri as he walked to the
kiss and cry. He wasn't really sure if he was angry with Yuuri or not, but he
definitely knew that his unchecked anger toward Viktor would only color his
interactions with his Katsudon. He needed space to sort himself out.
He may have also been avoiding any potential  excuses.  He didn't want to hear
it.
“98.09!”  98.09. How disappointing.  Lilia remained stoic as Yakov sighed
beside him, grumbling about Yuri’s head not being in the game. He understood
it. As confident as Yuri surely was, he was also self-aware when it came to
skating. He was also self-aware enough to know that he'd just skated rather
poorly, for him. He wasn't at his best. He fell on a rather easy jump. His
performance suffered because he let his own jealousy get the best of him and
because he was too preoccupied with worry for his grandfather. Still, he was
annoyed, at himself, at Viktor, at his Katsudon. He was ready to turn in for
the night. He echoed Yakov's sigh, stood and turned to leave without so much as
a look back.
His Katsudon didn't stop him.
 
---
 
Yuri couldn't contain the look of utter disbelief spreading over his face.
Viktor had just asked Yakov to be Yuuri's temporary foster coach so he could go
tend to his dog back in Japan. Apparently Makkachin choked on food or
something, landing herself a trip to the emergency vet. Ridiculous dog.
After Yakov begrudgingly accepted, Yuri kept his face as passive as he possibly
could while avoiding his Katsudon's searching eyes. He was honestly dreading
the conversation they'd promised to have later what with how he was feeling at
the moment. The lingering jealousy was a crawling sensation just below the
skin, making him want to tear it out as if it were a tangible thing. He wanted
to purge this black feeling, to get back to the bright warmth he'd felt before
Viktor placed his lips on his Katsudon. Again. He subtly shook his shoulders as
if the motion could dislodge the weight of his own emotional turmoil.
He stood by Lilia as his coach reluctantly accepted Yuuri into the fold, his
Katsudon timidly stepping forward to officially introduce himself. Viktor
clapped his hand on Yuuri's shoulder, pulling him off to the side to wish him
good luck and a tight hug before he tearing off in the direction of the exit,
and Yuri briefly wished his dark look could burn his once-mentor. He met
Yuuri's eyes fleetingly before darting off to the side, jaw clenched so tight
he could hear the protest from his teeth. From his periphery, his Katsudon
looked lost, like he had absolutely no idea what could possibly have upset
Yuri.
Yakov grumbled about everyone needing sleep before tomorrow's competition, and
for once Yuri couldn't agree more. Just the mention of rest doubled the weight
of his limbs. He was pretty sure he was going to sleep like a stone as soon as
his head hit the pillow. He watched as his coach and Lilia left for the
elevators, waiting a moment before trailing behind them, gesturing for his
Katsudon to follow. Yakov held the elevator for them, which Yuri waved off.
They'd catch the next one.  Might as well get this over with, right?
The tension was thick as they waited for the lift, the couple of inches between
them feeling like  miles of distance. It made Yuri's stomach twist even further
than the envy had. He was starting to feel nauseous, and wondered if Yuuri felt
anything resembling what he was. His pallor, the frown tugging at his lips and
the faint crease between his brows all but confirmed it. Yuri wanted nothing
more than to cross that ocean between them, but refused to give in until this
matter was settled.
The  ding  snapped him out of his reverie and the two boarded the elevator.
Yuri glared at the people in the hall, broadcasting how unwelcome any other
passengers would be, and smashed the button to close the door quicker so that
no one could intrude on their conversation. He frowned to himself as he hit the
button for his Katsudon's floor. Yuri refused to have this conversation in his
room, giving him no escape should he need it.
Behind him, a questioning noise filled the space. Yuri just shook his head,
adding to the tense atmosphere.
About fifteen hours later, the lift finally stopped, and Yuri didn't wait for
his Katsudon to lead the way. He knew exactly where the room was. He reached
the door, turning to watch Yuuri hesitantly amble his way to him. Yuri's
already short patience was veering into critically thin territory.
“Do you want to have this conversation out here, Katsudon?” He couldn't soften
the edges of his barbed tone even if he'd had half a mind to try. His nerves
and patience were shot and he was ready for the itch beneath his skin to quell.
Yuuri grimaced in response, giving his head a sharp shake. He unlocked the door
and waited just long enough for Yuri to clear the door before shutting it
firmly behind him.
Before Yuri could even open his mouth, his Katsudon cut in with a harsh, “what
the hell is going on with you?”
Yuri gaped in indignation. “Are you fucking serious? You have  no  idea what
could  possibly  have pissed me off tonight?”
Yuuri just looked at him expectantly.
“Oh, I have no idea, Katsudon.” Yuri knew his spitting tone was dipping into
caustic territory, a slippery slope that he couldn't stop himself from sliding
down despite the gobsmacked look creeping on Yuuri's face. “Maybe because
Viktor had his lips on what's  mine.   Again.  As if he has  any  right to, he
just kisses you in public -  multiple times, might I add  - in front of me, in
front of the  entire fucking world."  Yuri didn't know when his body decided to
move right into his Katsudon's space, but he could see the raised brows and the
wide eyes and the parted lips and the fucking wince as his voice broke and
Yuuri's facial expression's steady descent into the realm of ‘shattered’ as
Yuri steamrolled over his Katsudon's weak protestations with his irrepressible
verbal outpour. His eyes dropped to the floor. “You say you don't have
feelings  for Viktor, but yet you allow him to be so...so...handsy with you?
That's not even mentioning that fucking kiss at the Cup of China, and-”
“Yuri!” Two warm, shaking hands tightly gripped Yuri's cheeks, tilting his head
up to meet shining eyes. His Katsudon’s voice was this side of distressed.
“That kiss only happened because Viktor wanted to surprise me more than I
surprised him!” The incredulity must have been apparent because the magnitude
of Yuuri's doe eyes increased tenfold. “I swear, it meant nothing to me. I-
I was so uncomfortable and I didn't exactly ask for it. I didn't want it.
Viktor kind of just bulldozed me, and…” Yuuri gave a helpless shrug. “The kiss
on my skate...I didn't know he was going to do that either and by the time he
did, I didn't know what to do about it. There were people everywhere, and I
could see you were angry, but there was nothing I could do by that point... I
just wanted to make sure I could wish you luck, but your face…” Yuuri looked
lost, voice going hoarse for a moment before he cleared his throat, continuing.
“Please, Yuri. I didn't mean to hurt you. I meant what I said last night, and
earlier. I would never toy with you like that.” His desperate tone hardened
along with his eyes. “I also talked to Viktor while you were on the ice. It
shouldn't happen again.”
Yuri jerked in place, eyes widening at the dark tone of his Katsudon's voice, a
familiar electric shock running through him. He furrowed his brows, scowling,
trying to unsuccessfully hide the flush of arousal that had to have been
apparent on his porcelain skin. “Oh yeah? And what did he say?”
Tight hands gripped his own, pulling him over to sit down on the bed beside
Yuuri. His Katsudon ran his other hand down his face, sighing.
“After you rushed off, we left the kiss and cry so I could watch you skate.
Viktor was getting a little too cozy-” Yuri scoffed to convey his message of
‘no shit’ , and his Katsudon rolled his eyes. “I know, I know. Anyway, I told
him to back off. He's not as vapid or unobservant as he likes to pretend he is
sometimes. He  knows  he doesn't really have the right to be affectionate with
me like that.” Yuuri's tone slipped into one of indignation. “He told me he
thought I needed someone ‘older and more mature.’ He said he was ‘reading
positive signals’ from me. I've never given him any indication of that…” His
voice trailed off in the face of Yuri's own disbelief.
“‘Never given him any indication?’ Katsudon, until last night,  I   thought you
wanted Viktor. You were always so doe-eyed around him. It was ridiculous.” Yuri
looked off, dejected, jaw clenched as he tried to recall the epiphanic feeling
he'd had when JJ hit him with the truth just earlier that day. He  knew
Yuuri's feelings toward Viktor were platonic, but thinking of how close they
were still made his stomach roil. He would rather willing drink eye drops than
admit it, but he sighed, shoulders slumping a bit as admitted, “I know you say
it was all for me, but it isn't exactly difficult to see how that could be
misinterpreted…”
Yuuri sheepishly cringed. “Yeah, that's about the gist of what Viktor said. He
had that weird, fake smile he wears sometimes and brushed it off, but I'm
pretty sure he knows where I stand now.” His Katsudon shyly ran his thumb of
Yuri's knuckles, face aflame. “I explicitly told him how I felt about you. Even
if I hadn't, I'm sure he would have seen it all over my face watching you out
there on the ice. God, you’re so beautiful. I couldn't take my eyes off of
you.”
Yuri wasn't sure how much he could more of this he could handle. His heart felt
so much lighter with the weight of his insecurity and jealousy sliding off his
chest. His palms itched to drag his Katsudon over to him, have the older man
freshen those bites marks left last night, to return the favor and make some of
his own.
Instead, he refocused on the conversation still at hand, scowling. “I fucked
up. Badly. I botched that damned triple axel. My movements were too harsh for
the theme. My head wasn't in it at all and-” Two warm fingers pressed gently to
his lips, effectively cutting off the self-directed ire.
“You were  beautiful.  Even though you flubbed things a bit, you were still…”
His Katsudon shook his head with an expression bordering on awe. “Honestly,
Yuri, you're one of the best skaters I know, and I'm not saying that because
I'm a little biased.” His face read teasing, but his tone was serious as he
cupped Yuri's flushed cheek in his hand, foreheads gently meeting. Fond,
chocolate eyes met wide, viridescent ones. “Don't do this to yourself, Yuri.
One imperfect run isn't going to do much harm. You picked it back up in the
second half of your short program, and you'll pick it back up tomorrow and do
better in your freeskate. Just know that  I  thought you were amazing.”
Yuri didn't bother hiding the small smile from his Katsudon. Taking a deep
breath, he let himself relax. “I was thinking of you. That-that last half, you
know, I just...cleared my mind and thought of...how you make me, ah... feel."
Yuri's closed his eyes, willing away the embarrassment that wanted to make
itself present, but he knew his honesty would make the older man happy.
Yuri was rewarded when he heard a hitch in Yuuri's breath. He opened his eyes
and was granted by the sight of his Katsudon's cheeks flushing, corners of his
lips pulling into a grin as his hands drop to toy with the neck of Yuri's
Agape  costume. “Oh yeah? Interestingly enough,  you  were on  my  mind the
entire time I skated my  Eros."
It was Yuri's turn for hitched breath, remembering the passion and the almost
tangible  feeling  kis Katsudon poured into his movements, the freedom and
abandon in his face, the costume fabric pulling taut across Yuuri's chest, his
thighs, his  ass.  He was a sight to behold. Yuri licked his lips as his eyes
trailed over that exact fabric before him.
In a sudden move of his typical grace, Yuri neatly swung himself into his
Katsudon's lap, reversing their positioning from last night. His looked into
those wide, brown eyes for a moment before crushing his lips to Yuuri's. A
muffled moan escaped the older man's lips and suddenly there were familiar
hands digging into his hair. God, Yuri was already developing a kink for this
shit. He knew his Katsudon had a fixation on his hair, but last night was a
revelation for how much he  liked  his hair being fixated upon. Every tug threw
electric heat through him, ripping involuntary whimpers from his lips.
Pulling away from the kiss, Yuri decided  two can play at that game.  He made
quick work of both of their jackets before dragging his fingers back to Yuuri's
costume zipper, tugging down an inch before stopping, raising a brow in
question. At the enthusiastic nod, Yuri continued as Yuuri pressed kisses into
his neck, making him stumble along the way. After far too long, the zip met its
end and Yuri pulled back with a sharp smirk, lightly setting his fingers to
tease over that distracting little part in the front of the costume neck ( that
showcased Yuuri's biteable Adam's apple that he would  definitely  mark up one
day, Yuri might add) , dragging down over the asymmetrical, curved lines of the
Eros  costume, drinking in the sight of fluttering eyes and parted lips as he
slid off his Katsudon's lap. He missed the hands in his hair as soon as they
left.  They'll be back soon enough.  With anxious eyes he smirked, situating
himself on his knees between Yuuri's legs, swallowing nervously but never
stopping the flow of his fingers on those lines.
He hesitantly ran the backs of his fingers gently over the hardened length
trapped beneath the fabric. The sound of heavy breathing filled the room as
their eyes met and Yuuri's face screwed up in pleasure at the simple touch.
Biting his lip, Yuri gently tugged the fabric at Yuuri's wrists, slowly
removing it from his Katsudon's arms, baring himself to the hips.
“Last night, I said I-I wanted to taste you too. I want to cash in on that
now.” He said breathlessly, meeting his Katsudon's eyes steadily in an
approximation of complete confidence, forcing himself not to waver.
“Kuso.  Are you sure? You don't have to do this unless you wa-” Yuri cut him
off with a growl, and he fucking  shuddered.  “I...yes, fuck,  please,”  was
his desperate response. Yuuri's head tilted down just right into the shadows so
that his glasses were clear of reflection. His eyes smoldered into Yuri's, hazy
with lust as they set another wave of heated arousal through Yuri.
Mirroring the teasing he'd received last night, Yuri dragged the backs of his
nails up Yuuri's outer thighs, gripping the fabric of the costume and underwear
to tug them both down at once. His Katsudon's body roll to aid in sliding the
material under his ass was a fucking religious experience. Skaters’ bodies were
always in fantastic shape, but  damn.  Following Yuuri's abdominals as they
shifted under literally perfect skin was enough to make the straightest of men
weak. Watching his -  whatever, he'll ask  after  he gets Yuuri off  - cock
swing proudly toward himself was enough to make Yuri drool as he pressed a
harsh hand to his own cock through his clothes in an attempt to stave off his
straining erection.
Catching the mix of amusement and bashfulness on the older man's face was
enough to snap him out it. He scowled as he wiped the side of his mouth,
embarrassed, and forcefully pulled the costume to Yuuri's ankles. He noted that
Yuuri's hands gripped tight into the comforter on either side of him, twitching
toward Yuri as if he was fighting to keep them to himself. God, he wanted to
make the man below him lose that carefully guarded control.
He knew his Katsudon knew how new he was to all of this, but he wondered if
Yuuri could tell he was taking notes from last night as he gently pressed his
teeth into the meat of the older man's inner thighs. Jerking beneath him, Yuuri
moaned as he slid his teeth upward, not really biting down, but creating little
trails of red over his Katsudon's thighs. Yuuri's thighs trembled as he moved
on to the other thigh, bypassing the swollen length entirely. He gave a
facsimile of an innocent smile, keeping his eyes trained on his Katsudon's as
he marked up Yuuri's other thigh.
Yuuri's mouth fell open on a moan, hips jerking forward as his hands made an
aborted motion toward Yuri's head before curling into fists that rested on his
thighs. Scowling, Yuri bit down into the nearest patch of soft flesh.
“Fuck!”  Yuuri cried out, hands finding the Yuri's hair  (finally)  and pulling
tight, unlatching the younger man from his thigh. He used the leverage on
Yuri's head to tilt his face to meet his own.  “Please,  Yuri. I-I want...
Onegai.”
Yuri wasn't sure if he'd ever been this hard before. If he'd read Yuuri's
signals right last night, it seemed he had a  thing  for when Yuri spoke
Russian. It would appear that a language kink was a  thing  Yuri has as well.
His eyes rolled back as Yuuri’s grip in his hair shifted, pulling Yuri's head
where he wanted him. He shouldered his Katsudon's legs wider and wrapped his
arms under them, gripping into his thighs as he let himself be guided. At the
feeling of the warm, plush skin of Yuuri cock against his lips, he shoved down
any residual anxiety and tentatively flicked his tongue out to finally get a
taste.  Jesus fuck,  Yuuri was sensitive. One small lick drew out a whimper .
Shuddering, Yuri pressed open-mouthed kisses to the head of his Katsudon's
cock, gradually growing sloppier with the execution.
Yuri may not have any desire to worship a deity, but  fuck,  did he want to
worship this man before him. Yuuri's thighs rippled beneath his hands as he
finally opened his mouth wide, remembering to cover his teeth with his lips
like his Katsudon had done last night, letting that hot, hard length in.
Broken pleas in Japanese rung out into the room as Yuri slowly took more of
Yuuri's cock into his mouth. He took his time running his tongue over veins,
noting the the difference in texture between the head and the shaft, playing
with the looser skin of the frenulum and foreskin, teasing the slit with the
tip of his tongue, hollowing out his cheeks before testing his gag reflex. He
mentally grumbled when he found he couldn't take Yuuri all the way down -  yet,
his mind supplied. He set a fist at the base where he couldn't quite reach,
sucking the length back into his mouth after a quick clearing of his throat.
Yuuri's grip in his hair readjusted to push his hair out of his face. He
quaked, crying out when Yuri hit a particularly sensitive spot  (he
particularly liked sucking at the very tip) , hips consistently making little
aborted movements like he wanted to fuck Yuri's mouth and  shit, Yuri could get
behind that.
He pushed back long enough to tell his Katsudon just that, and the resounding
keen was well worth the overenthusiastic first thrust. Yuri pulled back
laughing through the coughing fit, waving off Yuuri's breathless apologies.
“Jesus, Katsudon, didn't you learn anything from last night?” He teased,
shaking his head and grinning like a fool before making an attempt to slide
into something more seductive. “Let's try that again,  da?  Oh, and keep your
hands in my hair. I like when you direct me to where you want me.”
Not waiting for a response, Yuri wrapped his lips back around his Katsudon's
cock, sucking the head in to rest on his tongue, waiting. Sure enough after a
second’s pause, fingers wove back into his hair, clutching tightly, pulling his
head onto those last few inches to his fist.
It was like a switch flipped, and Yuri fucking  loved  it. Where before his
Katsudon was controlled, cautious and gentle, now… Now, he was just shy of
animalistic, fucking Yuri's mouth onto his cock, taking his pleasure with his
head thrown back in abandon with the look of bliss of his face, throwing
caution to the wind. Yuuri's hips roughly ground into the mix, pushing even
further, and  this  was heaven.
Yuri dug his fingers into Yuuri's thick thighs, giving a particularly hard suck
and his Katsudon  sobbed,  voice the definition of desperate . “Yu-Yuri,
fuuuuck… Kuso,  c-can I come in your mouth?  Please .”
Yuri moaned deeply, nodding as enthusiastically as he could with his mouth full
in response. Throwing his own caution to the wind, he removed his fist just as
his Katsudon pulled him back onto his cock. Yuuri cried out in surprise as he
came, cock jerking as he buried himself in Yuri's throat.
The fingers gripping into his hair pulled tight enough to bring tears to his
eyes. Yuri made a point of looking into his Katsudon's eyes as the tears
spilled, swallowing around the length (as much to swallow the come flooding him
as to actively fight his gag reflex). Yuuri's face screwed up as he looked into
Yuri's teary eyes, legs tightening around Yuri's shoulders, hips jerking his
cock even further in as he spurted the last of his spend into the teen's
throat. With one last deeply pleased sigh, he untangled his fingers from Yuri's
hair and fell back onto his elbows, trying to catch his breath.
Being the little shit Yuri knew he could be, he sucked as hard he could, slowly
pulling himself off of Yuuri's length and being rewarded with full-bodied
spasms and heaved  “ha, ha, ha”’s.
“God,I love you, Yuri,” his Katsudon said with a rapturous smile on his face
tilted to the ceiling after catching his breath. God,Yuri would never get sick
of hearing that. Yuuri's glasses were crooked, and the high points of his
cheeks were stained pink, and his lips were plump and bitten, and his eyes were
the warmest brown Yuri had ever seen, and his hair was a wreck, and god,those
abs.Yuri’s cock twitched. Fuck, he needed to come. He was sure the accumulation
of all of these things would one day be the death of him, but not today.
Yuri surged to his feet, throwing off his shoes, ripping his costume off as
gently as he could, sitting it off to the side. He tore off his underwear and
climbed back up to straddle Yuuri's hips, pushing at his shoulders until he was
flat on his back. He feverishly pressed his lips to his Katsudon's, fucking his
cock onto Yuuri's stomach.
“No, no, no, no, no,” Yuuri said, gripping Yuri’s hips and stopping him in his
tracks.
What?  He only had a moment to freak out before those strong hands slid to grip
his ass, pulling him forward to knee-walk himself over Yuuri's face.  Fuck.
When he was placed where his Katsudon wanted him, he resettled so that his
knees were on either side of Yuuri's head with strong hands still clinging his
hips.
Yuuri looked up at him, quickly setting his glasses off to the side and licked
his lips. “Is this okay?” At Yuri's gulp and breathless assent, he give him a
nerve-tinged smile before opening his mouth, inviting him in.
“I'm not going to last long,” he warned before tipping his cock down into
Yuuri's welcoming mouth. His eyes rolled back into his head as he was engulfed
in tight, wet heat. Those strong hands guided him to fuck in and out of his
Katsudon's mouth. One of Yuri's hands flew into Yuuri's hair, catching slightly
in the disintegrating gel as the other flew to his own, lost in the pleasure of
the guided facefuck. His moaning grew in desperation with each stroke into the
older man's mouth.
Just when he felt he was getting close to the breaking point, the hands on his
hips slid up his back, gently pushing until he had to catch himself on his
hands on the bed. He looked down in confusion. “What?”
Yuuri's response was to grip his hip with one hand, wrapping the other into a
fist around the base of his cock, pushing him up out of his mouth and then
pulling him back in. His mouth dropped as he realized what he was being invited
to do.
“Really,  really  not going to last long,” he warned, panting. He fucked
himself into his Katsudon’s mouth a total of three times before his fingers
tore into the blanket. “Yu- Yuuri, I'm gonna come!”
Yuuri redoubled his efforts of sucking him down and seemed to take a page from
Yuri's book this time, removing the fist from his cock the last few thrusts.
Yuri gave one loud, broken moan as he emptied himself into his Katsudon's
mouth, cock jerking against the feeling of Yuuri's throat convulsing him as he
swallowed Yuri's spend. Yuri couldn't help but give a few more lazy grinds into
that beautiful fucking mouth before raising up on shaky legs, pulling his
softening cock out and flopping onto his side. Yuuri coughed as he starfished.
Eventually they both lazily crawled up to the bed, Yuuri's  Eros  costume still
dangling off his ankles as he made a halfhearted attempt to kick it off, Yuri's
hair a veritable bird's nest created by his Katsudon's aggressive hands. The
looked at each other, breath evening out. Yuri couldn't contain himself as he
broke out into uncontrollable laughter. Yuuri looked back at him with a
bewildered smile, confusedly chuckling along.
After a minute or two, Yuri settled back down and his Katsudon gave him a
curious, warm smile. “What was all that about?”
“Just thinking about the last 24 hours. Hell, just the last couple of them were
crazy. I was honestly prepared to end the day pissed, and look where we are
now.” Yuri said with a disbelieving smile.
Yuuri leaned in, kissing him slowly. It was a kiss of apologies and
forgiveness, of affection and understanding, of letting go of extraneous
jealousy and basking in the intimacy they'd just shared.
“Me too, you know,” Yuri said after they'd separated and his Katsudon settled
into his arms. Yuuri made a questioning noise. “I…” Frustrated with himself, he
sighed. “I know how I  feel,  but I don't feel comfortable  saying  it yet, so
I won't. You...deserve better than some, some...uncomfortable declaration or
something. I want to say it when it feels right to say it. So, for now...me
too. I hope that makes sense.” He closed his eyes, refusing to look at his
Katsudon's face in fear that his explanation might not be good enough. The last
thing he wanted to do was to hurt the man he loved, but he just  couldn't  say
it yet. He wasn't ready.
A warm hand tipped his head toward his Katsudon, foreheads meeting. “That's
enough for me, Yuri. You don't have to say anything until you're ready,
but...knowing is enough.”
Yuri felt the sting of tears trying to creep into his eyes  (god, what the
fuck)  as he pressed himself closer to his Katsudon, pressing kisses to
everywhere he could reach. Being loved and accepted exactly as he was wasn't
something he was used to beyond his  Dedushka,  and the warmth of the easy
acceptance and reciprocation of his feelings was something he could get drunk
off of.  
After what could have been 10 minutes or 10 years of reveling in the
contentment, “Dinosaur” by Kesha blasted from his phone on the floor. With a
deep, exasperated groan, Yuri reluctantly got up to answer the phone. He wished
he could ignore it, but considering the actual shitshow that was this
afternoon, he wasn't planning on creating a repeat event. He answered the phone
and sorted his shit out in under a minute. He sighed, picking up his costume,
turning back to Yuuri.
“I should probably go. That was Yakov reminding me that I’d better get some
sleep if I want to be rested and ready for the free skate tomorrow. I'd rather
not leave, but…” He trailed off apologetically.
“Hey, it's okay. I should honestly get some rest too, and I can't promise we'd
get much sleep of you stayed. Anyway, borrow some of my clothes so you don't
have to put your costume back on. You'll see me tomorrow, I'm sure of it.”
Yuuri leered playfully.
Yuri rolled his eyes with a soft smile. “I can't believe my boyfriend is such a
dork.” He said as he hunted for some clothes. He got dressed in the comfiest
sweats and T-shirt he could find before turning back to Yuuri. Being met his
Katsudon's raised brows and wide eyes, he retraced his last words. He reddened
and his face flashed to fear before blanking, straightening up into an
approximation of his usual aggressive stance, fists clenched as the nerves
collected around his eyes. “Well? Do you want to be my boyfriend or not?”
The shock on his Katsudon's face melted into that smile that embodied Yuri's
mental world of syrupy feelings that he'd channeled earlier. It was a smile
that made him feel like he was filled with helium and set his heart to trip
over itself. It was tattooed into his mind, and he never wanted it to fade.
“H-hai!  I-I mean, yes!  Da!"  his Katsudon said through his beaming smile.
And now it was Yuri's turn to reflect that sticky-sweet, affectionate smile. He
bit his lip, trying to contain his smile to an acceptable maximum as he put his
shoes and jacket back on. He went back to the bed and gave Yuuri a deep, filthy
kiss before pulling back. He didn't even try to stop himself from laying down a
few pecks afterward as well, even as Yuuri laughed against his lips.
He grinned and walked away, pulling his hair into a ponytail ( he was  not
trying to look as if he’d just been fucked while walking through the halls,
thank you very much ). He messed with his hair a bit in the mirror on the wall
as his Katsudon watched with darkening eyes before grabbing his costume,
leaving with a shy smile and a wave.

Yuri snorted to himself as he walked to the elevator, shaking his head fondly,
feeling as if he could float. With how much they both liked his hair, maybe
he'd just let it grow for the foreseeable future. He wondered what Yuuri would
think about waist-length hair.
End Notes
     Okay, so I used a couple Japanese/Russian terms in here and once
     again, I could be wrong on these, so if you catch any errors, please
     let me know!
     пизда - pussy
     Kuso - fuck
     Onegai - please (Thank you, NYAAselina!)
     Shout out to my B (aka missbip0lar on here - check her out for A+
     smut and sin) for reading it over and giving me encouragement through
     the process.
     Come join me on tumblr to gush over our rarepair OTPs! (I ship pretty
     much all of them)
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