Yakov's stroke comes as a surprise to everyone. One day he was fine, and the next, Lilia was taking Victor and Yuri into her office and telling them they'd both becoming to stay at her home indefinitely. "He'll be fine eventually," she says, "but I don't know if he'll be prepared to be a full-time coach again in the forseeable future. We'll figure something out. There's Mikhael, in Moscow--"
"But what about the rest of the season?" Yuri interrupts. "We can't find a new coach in the middle of the season, that's stupid and impossible!"
"I'll be your tempory stand-in coach," Lilia says, "for the rest of this season. Then we will find new coaches for the both of you for next season. I've already found one for Mila, and Georgi's not prepared to talk about it, but you two are our star skaters. You must think ahead. You don't have the luxury of resting on your laurels."
In shock, Victor packs up his room at Yakov's house, carefully rolling up his posters and folding his clothes. This place has been his home for eight years, and Yakov's been his father, and Victor has many more things now than when he'd come. He has a dog.
"Are you ready?" Lilia says, standing in the doorway, surveying Victor's numerous bags and boxes. "We'll need to make multiple trips, I see."
"Sorry," Victor says, and Makkachin whimpers at his tone, like she can hear Victor's misery. Dogs are amazing. He scratches behind Makkachin's ears. "I'm a collector."
"Collector and hoarder don't mean the same thing," Yuri says, but the lines around his mouth are just as upset as the ones Victor sees in the mirror, and Victor doesn't have the heart to argue right now.
*
Victor's heart isn't in the rest of the season. He bombs everything, and then finally his nationals, and watches Yuuri Katsuki skate away with another gold on television at Japan's nationals in Lilia's living room later that night, Yuri silent beside him. With that, his season comes to a close, beaten out by fractions of a point for the last spot in the World's lineup. He thinks, wistfully, of the missed opportunity to dance with Yuuri Katsuki again, to skate in front of him, but in the end he's glad that Yuuri won't get the chance to see his lackluster routine again.
He still hasn't figured out what he wants to do for next season. He needs a coach, but he's barely put out feelers. He wish he could ask Celestino, but Celestino's got a full rink thanks to Yuuri's success, and Victor couldn't afford his coaching fee anyway with his lack of vwins this season. He'd have been in trouble even if Yakov were fine, but Yakov would have helped. Yakov had always helped, even when Victor had made his life difficult and been a complete brat. Yakov had--
Victor stops himself there. He'll have to do something else next year. He doesn't want to even think of quitting skating all-together, when his career is just starting to take off.
*
Yuuri Katsuki wins gold at World's, and Christophe takes second.
wish you were here!!! Christophe texts, and Victor smiles and types back me too.
any idea what you're doing next year?
Victor hates that question. The press has been relentless about it, and sports journalists have thrown out all sorts of theories about it, none of them with any semblance of the truth. Victor has no idea. They're just as pervasive as the rumours that Yuuri is going to retire. Victor knows there's probably a little more truth, there.
we'll see he replies, and then turns off his phone so he's not tempted to look at Chris's intagram and see photos from a party that he should have qualified to attend.
*
"Have you fucking seen this," Yuri asks, after busting open his door with his foot, ignoring Lilia's bellow from the floor below to respect other people's homes. He's got the most ridiculous scowl on his face as he clutches his phone.
"Seen what?" He scoots over on his bed, dislodging Makkachin and making room for Yuri to sit down beside him, and Victor's eyebrows furrow as Yuri holds up a finished Youtube video like Victor's supposed to immediately understand. "Is it skating?"
"Is it skating," Yuri mocks him, pressing replay, and now Victor can see the title of the video: Katsuki Yuuri Skates Victor Nikiforov's 'Stammi Vicino'.
"Oh my God," Victor says, grabbing the phone out of Yuri's hands, earing him scratches and a hiss like Yuri is an actual cat. Makkachin's tail thwaps against the side of the bed. "Oh my God."
"Pathetic," Yuri says. "Don't start drooling again just because he skates it better than you."
There's no music, but it doesn't really matter. Victor, as always, can see the music in Yuuri's body, and in his expressive eyes, lit up brighter than any stars.
He can see, now, what Yuuri was trying to tell him before, about his skate being empty. He can feel Yuuri's longing, and he doesn't know what Yuuri's longing for exactly, but it echoes inside of Victor, a sympathetic clang of an emotional bell, and Victor wants to reach out and take Yuuri Katsuki's hand and ask him how he can let himself feel so much on the ice, where everyone can see him.
He wants to ask Yuuri Katsuki to teach him.
I'd be yours, Yuuri'd said. Victor's hand tightens around the phone. "Ah," he says, and something inside him ignites.
*
The onsen is wonderful, and Makkachin is already besotten with the floors, digging her nose and soft paws into the tatami as Yuuri Katsuki's mother shows him around, her English as quirky and delightful as everything else Victor's seen since he arrived in this small, seaside town.
Victor's exhausted by the time Yuuri's sister, Mari, shows him the baths. "So you're Victor," she'd said when he'd introduced himself to her, like she'd heard of him. "Huh. I like your hair."
Once he's stripped down washed himself clean of travel, he steps into the water, sighing in happiness as it warms him all the way to his bones. He drifts in and out of a drowsy daze as the steam rises up around him, only coming to full attention when he hears a ruckus coming from inside, his eyes turning to focus on the doors. They fly open moments later, and there's Yuuri Katsuki, in his frumpy glasses and frumpier track-clothes, his mouth open and eyes wide. He's nothing like the man who'd praised Victor and spun him around a ballroom in a tango, but to Victor, he's just as charming.
"V-victor?!"
Yuuri's open-mouthed gaping has Victor hurrying to explain himself, standing up despite the fact that he's naked as the day he was born. Yuuri probably won't mind. He lives in a bathhouse, and didn't he think Victor was beautiful? "Hello, Yuuri!"
"What are you doing here?!" Yuuri takes off his glasses and cleans them, then puts them back on, like he thinks Victor is a mirage. "Is this about me skating your program? I promise I had no intention of borrowing your choreography, or posting that video! SOme kids at my home rink, they're the ones--"
"It was beautiful," Victor says. "When I choreographed it, that's what I wanted it to look like. I just couldn't accomplish it." Victor smiles at Yuuri hopefully, and Yuuri is giving Victor a look like Victor's the legendary figure skater, or something.
"Oh," Yuuri says. "I... thank you? I was inspired by it, I always am--" He puts a hand over his mouth to cut himself off.
Victor's heart has stopped in my chest. Or maybe the world has stopped, here in this foreign paradise, with steam rising around them like a magical fog and the person Victor has admired since he'd started seriously lacing up his skates standing in front of him, flushed and pretty.
"Yuuri," Victor says, I want you to be my coach!" He holds out a hand, wondering if Yuuri will grab it like he had at the banquet. If Yuuri will agree, or if Victor's wasted a trip. If Victor's still actually back in Lilia's too quiet house in St. Petersberg and he's dreamed this whole thing up.
"Oh," Yuuri says, and then he passes out.
"Oh," Victor echoes, and then, still a little hopeful, he laughs.
"Oh," Yuuri's father says, when he comes out a few seconds later, taking in Yuuri lying slumped up against the onsen wall and Victor standing naked in the water, hand still outstretched. "So, are you staying?"
"If that's all right?" Victor twirls a pieces of hair around his finger, dropping his other hand now that Yuuri's not in a position to take it.
"I think it's for the best," Yuuri's father says, seeming strangely amused. "I'll have Mari clear out a room for you. We've got an old banquet room that should do."
"I love banquets," Victor replies, and swallows.
He hopes with all his heart that Yuuri will remember that he'd offered, and help bring Victor's skating to life.
Re: FILL: TEAM KATSUKI YUURI/VICTOR NIKIFOROV, T, Part 3 of 3
Yakov's stroke comes as a surprise to everyone. One day he was fine, and the next, Lilia was taking Victor and Yuri into her office and telling them they'd both becoming to stay at her home indefinitely. "He'll be fine eventually," she says, "but I don't know if he'll be prepared to be a full-time coach again in the forseeable future. We'll figure something out. There's Mikhael, in Moscow--"
"But what about the rest of the season?" Yuri interrupts. "We can't find a new coach in the middle of the season, that's stupid and impossible!"
"I'll be your tempory stand-in coach," Lilia says, "for the rest of this season. Then we will find new coaches for the both of you for next season. I've already found one for Mila, and Georgi's not prepared to talk about it, but you two are our star skaters. You must think ahead. You don't have the luxury of resting on your laurels."
In shock, Victor packs up his room at Yakov's house, carefully rolling up his posters and folding his clothes. This place has been his home for eight years, and Yakov's been his father, and Victor has many more things now than when he'd come. He has a dog.
"Are you ready?" Lilia says, standing in the doorway, surveying Victor's numerous bags and boxes. "We'll need to make multiple trips, I see."
"Sorry," Victor says, and Makkachin whimpers at his tone, like she can hear Victor's misery. Dogs are amazing. He scratches behind Makkachin's ears. "I'm a collector."
"Collector and hoarder don't mean the same thing," Yuri says, but the lines around his mouth are just as upset as the ones Victor sees in the mirror, and Victor doesn't have the heart to argue right now.
*
Victor's heart isn't in the rest of the season. He bombs everything, and then finally his nationals, and watches Yuuri Katsuki skate away with another gold on television at Japan's nationals in Lilia's living room later that night, Yuri silent beside him. With that, his season comes to a close, beaten out by fractions of a point for the last spot in the World's lineup. He thinks, wistfully, of the missed opportunity to dance with Yuuri Katsuki again, to skate in front of him, but in the end he's glad that Yuuri won't get the chance to see his lackluster routine again.
He still hasn't figured out what he wants to do for next season. He needs a coach, but he's barely put out feelers. He wish he could ask Celestino, but Celestino's got a full rink thanks to Yuuri's success, and Victor couldn't afford his coaching fee anyway with his lack of vwins this season. He'd have been in trouble even if Yakov were fine, but Yakov would have helped. Yakov had always helped, even when Victor had made his life difficult and been a complete brat. Yakov had--
Victor stops himself there. He'll have to do something else next year. He doesn't want to even think of quitting skating all-together, when his career is just starting to take off.
*
Yuuri Katsuki wins gold at World's, and Christophe takes second.
wish you were here!!! Christophe texts, and Victor smiles and types back me too.
any idea what you're doing next year?
Victor hates that question. The press has been relentless about it, and sports journalists have thrown out all sorts of theories about it, none of them with any semblance of the truth. Victor has no idea. They're just as pervasive as the rumours that Yuuri is going to retire. Victor knows there's probably a little more truth, there.
we'll see he replies, and then turns off his phone so he's not tempted to look at Chris's intagram and see photos from a party that he should have qualified to attend.
*
"Have you fucking seen this," Yuri asks, after busting open his door with his foot, ignoring Lilia's bellow from the floor below to respect other people's homes. He's got the most ridiculous scowl on his face as he clutches his phone.
"Seen what?" He scoots over on his bed, dislodging Makkachin and making room for Yuri to sit down beside him, and Victor's eyebrows furrow as Yuri holds up a finished Youtube video like Victor's supposed to immediately understand. "Is it skating?"
"Is it skating," Yuri mocks him, pressing replay, and now Victor can see the title of the video: Katsuki Yuuri Skates Victor Nikiforov's 'Stammi Vicino'.
"Oh my God," Victor says, grabbing the phone out of Yuri's hands, earing him scratches and a hiss like Yuri is an actual cat. Makkachin's tail thwaps against the side of the bed. "Oh my God."
"Pathetic," Yuri says. "Don't start drooling again just because he skates it better than you."
There's no music, but it doesn't really matter. Victor, as always, can see the music in Yuuri's body, and in his expressive eyes, lit up brighter than any stars.
He can see, now, what Yuuri was trying to tell him before, about his skate being empty. He can feel Yuuri's longing, and he doesn't know what Yuuri's longing for exactly, but it echoes inside of Victor, a sympathetic clang of an emotional bell, and Victor wants to reach out and take Yuuri Katsuki's hand and ask him how he can let himself feel so much on the ice, where everyone can see him.
He wants to ask Yuuri Katsuki to teach him.
I'd be yours, Yuuri'd said. Victor's hand tightens around the phone. "Ah," he says, and something inside him ignites.
*
The onsen is wonderful, and Makkachin is already besotten with the floors, digging her nose and soft paws into the tatami as Yuuri Katsuki's mother shows him around, her English as quirky and delightful as everything else Victor's seen since he arrived in this small, seaside town.
Victor's exhausted by the time Yuuri's sister, Mari, shows him the baths. "So you're Victor," she'd said when he'd introduced himself to her, like she'd heard of him. "Huh. I like your hair."
Once he's stripped down washed himself clean of travel, he steps into the water, sighing in happiness as it warms him all the way to his bones. He drifts in and out of a drowsy daze as the steam rises up around him, only coming to full attention when he hears a ruckus coming from inside, his eyes turning to focus on the doors. They fly open moments later, and there's Yuuri Katsuki, in his frumpy glasses and frumpier track-clothes, his mouth open and eyes wide. He's nothing like the man who'd praised Victor and spun him around a ballroom in a tango, but to Victor, he's just as charming.
"V-victor?!"
Yuuri's open-mouthed gaping has Victor hurrying to explain himself, standing up despite the fact that he's naked as the day he was born. Yuuri probably won't mind. He lives in a bathhouse, and didn't he think Victor was beautiful? "Hello, Yuuri!"
"What are you doing here?!" Yuuri takes off his glasses and cleans them, then puts them back on, like he thinks Victor is a mirage. "Is this about me skating your program? I promise I had no intention of borrowing your choreography, or posting that video! SOme kids at my home rink, they're the ones--"
"It was beautiful," Victor says. "When I choreographed it, that's what I wanted it to look like. I just couldn't accomplish it." Victor smiles at Yuuri hopefully, and Yuuri is giving Victor a look like Victor's the legendary figure skater, or something.
"Oh," Yuuri says. "I... thank you? I was inspired by it, I always am--" He puts a hand over his mouth to cut himself off.
Victor's heart has stopped in my chest. Or maybe the world has stopped, here in this foreign paradise, with steam rising around them like a magical fog and the person Victor has admired since he'd started seriously lacing up his skates standing in front of him, flushed and pretty.
"Yuuri," Victor says, I want you to be my coach!" He holds out a hand, wondering if Yuuri will grab it like he had at the banquet. If Yuuri will agree, or if Victor's wasted a trip. If Victor's still actually back in Lilia's too quiet house in St. Petersberg and he's dreamed this whole thing up.
"Oh," Yuuri says, and then he passes out.
"Oh," Victor echoes, and then, still a little hopeful, he laughs.
"Oh," Yuuri's father says, when he comes out a few seconds later, taking in Yuuri lying slumped up against the onsen wall and Victor standing naked in the water, hand still outstretched. "So, are you staying?"
"If that's all right?" Victor twirls a pieces of hair around his finger, dropping his other hand now that Yuuri's not in a position to take it.
"I think it's for the best," Yuuri's father says, seeming strangely amused. "I'll have Mari clear out a room for you. We've got an old banquet room that should do."
"I love banquets," Victor replies, and swallows.
He hopes with all his heart that Yuuri will remember that he'd offered, and help bring Victor's skating to life.