SASO Referees (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
referees) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
sportsanime2017-05-28 06:52 pm
referees) wrote in sportsanime2017-05-28 06:52 pm
Entry tags:
Bonus Round 1: AUs
SASO 2017 is over, but this round is perpetually open to new fills (no new prompts).
Please read this whole post before commenting to ensure that your team gets the most points possible. (There are changes from last year!)
RULES
- Submit prompts by commenting to this post with an alternate universe idea, along with a ship from one of our nominated fandoms. There's a comment template below for your convenience.
- Your prompt MUST include some kind of relationship. (This is not the sports anime gen olympics.) Platonic relationships are indicated by an "&" between the names (e.g., Izumi & Sakaeguchi). Non-platonic relationships use "/" (e.g., Izumi/Sakaeguchi). Please don't say "Any pairing," either!
- An AU can be a canon divergence, e.g. "what if [character] was the Team Captain instead of the canon captain character?", or a completely different setting altogether, e.g., pop idol AU, coffee shop AU, superheroes AU, etc.
- Fill prompts by leaving a responding comment to the prompt with your newly-created work.
- Remember to follow the general bonus round rules, outlined here.
FORMAT
Bonus round shenanigans all happen in the comments below. Brand-new works only, please.Required Work Minimums:
- 400 words (prose)
- 400px by 400px (art)
- 14 lines (poetry)
Format your comment in one of the following ways:
| If PROMPTING: | If FILLING: | If FILLING as a TEAM GRANDSTAND participant: |
PROMPT: TEAM [YOUR SHIP]
| FILL: TEAM [YOUR SHIP], [RATING]
| FILL: TEAM GRANDSTAND, [RATING]
|
Posts not using this format will be understood to be unofficial discussion posts, regardless of what they contain. They, like all comments in this community, are subject to the code of conduct.
If you see anyone breaking the code of conduct (e.g., causing drama, being rude) anywhere (not just DW), please contact the mods immediately.
SCORING
These numbers apply to your team as a whole, not each individual teammate. Make as many prompts/fills as you want!For prompts: 5 points each (maximum of 50 prompt points per team per round)
For fills:First 4 fills by any member of your team: 20 points each
Fills 5-10: 15 points each
Fills 11-20: 5 points each
Fills 21-50: 2 points each
Fills 51+: 1 point each
All scored content must be created new for this round.
Etc.
If you're hunting through the prompts looking for what to fill, a good trick is to view top-level comments only (see the line of links below this post).Have a question? Check The FAQ first. If you still need help, feel free to contact the mods. Happy fanworking!
PROMPT: Team Otabek Altin/Yuri Plisetsky
Fandom: Yuri on Ice!!!
Major Tags: none
Other Tags: none
Prompt: Age flip AU: Victor is the younger fanboy and Yuuri is the older star skater. Victor still shows up in Hasetsu, but because he NEEDS a coach.
Re: PROMPT: Team Otabek Altin/Yuri Plisetsky
Re: PROMPT: Team Otabek Altin/Yuri Plisetsky
Re: PROMPT: Team Otabek Altin/Yuri Plisetsky
Re: PROMPT: Team Otabek Altin/Yuri Plisetsky
Re: PROMPT: Team Otabek Altin/Yuri Plisetsky
Re: PROMPT: Team Otabek Altin/Yuri Plisetsky
FILL: TEAM KATSUKI YUURI/VICTOR NIKIFOROV, T
Other Tags: mild innuendo, mild language
Word Count: 4480
im sorry, it got out of control, im fine, everything's fine, i had to break it into parts--
***
"Disgusting," Yuri says, with all the vitriol that can be gathered up and expelled from his 155cm fourteen-year-old frame, as Victor watches Yuuri Katsuki take the ice. "Your crush is revolting and intolerable and I hope you choke on your own drool."
"Isn't he magical?" Victor asks, wistful, as the crowd cheers. Yuuri is taking a couple of small loops around the ice, checking his skates before making his way to the center of the rink.
"If you say so," Yuri replies, but there's something grudging in it: Victor knows Yuri dreams of defeating Yuuri Katsuki when he makes it to the senior division, and studies his famous level 4 step sequences with the same fervor as every hungry up-and-coming skater has before him since Yuuri claimed the top of the podium and took the figure skating world by storm after his first Olympics. Yuuri is a legend, untouchable, and Yuri might be bitter about their almost shared name but he knows Yuuri Katsuki is a force to be reckoned with.
This is Victor's first Grand Prix Final, and he's going to share the ice with Yuuri for the very first time, like he's dreamed about since he moved to St. Petersberg to train to become a professional figure skater. Victor is woefully unprepared for it-- Not his skate, but for seeing Yuuri in person. Thousands of clandestinely saved fan photos on his laptop and posters numbering in the thirties could never have prepared Victor for the way Yuuri glows.
Victor had gotten his first poster of Yuuri Katsuki for his fourteenth birthday, from a grumbling Yakov who looked like he already regrets his decision.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" Victor'd said, after he'd unrolled it, gingerly holding it by the edges to avoid leaving fingerprints. Victor didn't have very many things of his own, back then; he'd not accustomed to receiving gifts, because that hadn't been a part of the life he'd lived before he'd come to St. Petersberg to study under Yakov and live in the older man's home, plucked from the obscurity of minor competitions and showcases to learn how to skate in the big leagues from the best.
"I shouldn't be encouraging this," Yakov had muttered, into a water glass Victor had been pretty sure was filled with vodka instead, as Victor cooed over the soft, innocent expression of Yuuri's face in the image, caught spun out in a beautiful Ina Bauer, the blue silk of his costume fluttering around him like it was dying to kiss the skin of his throat. "You need to grow into yourself as a skater, Victor, not idolize the boy I'm training you to beat someday."
"I can grow into myself as a skater and still love the music I see in Yuuri Katsuki's skating, Yakov!" Carefully, he'd rolled the poster back up and put it back in the overseas shipping tube, not wanting to stare at it more under Yakov's all too observant eyes. "This is the best birthday present, ever!"
"Your present to me can be a good showing in junior nationals next week," Yakov had replied.
Victor had hummed, still clutching the poster tube tightly to his chest, and liltingly asked: "But why do I have to give you a present for my birthday?" He laughs. "Next year, get me a dog! A poodle!"
"You incorrigible brat!" Yakov had taken a deep sip of his definitely-not-water. "Go away!"
Victor had, retreating to his almost barren room. He'd been in St Petersberg for four months now, and the only thing on the walls was a calendar, but the poster was perfect. Yuuri was perfect in the poster, his dark eyes passionate and his body stretched out in the kind of extensions that earned praise from Lilia when Victor managed even the palest imitation at the barre.
He'd hung it above his bed, so it was the last thing he saw before he went to sleep.
Now Yuuri Katsuki is skating in front of him, in a costume of rich blues and blacks that shimmer with every combination spin, and Victor's not sure if his heart will stop beating again when the music stops. He'll probably keep hearing the music for the rest of the day, every time he remembers the gorgeous triple axle from a spread eagle that Yuuri executed mere meters from where Victor stands at rinkside, clutching his own Russia warm-up jacket for dear life.
"Oh gross," Yuri says, "you're actually drooling."
Victor absently wipes at his mouth. "I've been waiting so long to skate on the same ice as him," Victor says. "And now I'm here."
"You're supposed to be Russia's new ace-in-the-hole," replies Yuri, elbowing him roughly. "Aim for the gold, not the same ice, God. I'm going to find Yakov."
"I'll be right here, swooning," says Victor. Yuuri skates like he's only alive on the ice, and Victor doesn't want to miss second of it. He envies that kind of passion. Victor skates because it's all he knows, now, but Yuuri skates like he'd die if he didn't.
"Absolutely disgusting," Yuri repeats, and stomps away, muttering under his breath about how maybe he's Russia's best hope of regaining international supremacy.
*
Re: FILL: TEAM KATSUKI YUURI/VICTOR NIKIFOROV, T, Part 2 of 3
Victor clutches his silver medal in both hands as Christophe tries to peel one of them free to shove a flute of champagne into it. "Live a little, darling, you were a marvelous success!"
"I stood next to Yuuri Katsuki on the podium!" Victor looks at Chris with wild eyes.
"You did! As did I." He taps his bronze. "You even spoke to him!"
"I asked him for a selfie," Victor whispers, finally accepting the champagne and taking a desperate sip. "I think? But he ran away! Chris, why did he run away?!"
Chris laughs at him. "Well, the answer to that is probably two-fold." He guides Victor around a group of Italian skaters and over toward the big banquet counters full of finger foods. "The first is that whatever you asked him, it was in Russian, which he may or may not speak." Victor makes a dying noise in the back of his throat. "The second is that you got directly up into his face, and grabbed his hand, and you know Yuuri Katsuki is famously shy and anxious. He looked shell-shocked."
"I didn't mean to scare him!" Victor takes another sip of his champagne. "I just wanted..." Victor had blanked, is the honest truth. He'd taken one look at Yuuri Katsuki's nervous little smile and thick glasses and thought about how he'd been staring up at an old poster of him the last time he'd masturbated and it had been all downhill from there. "I just wanted to talk to him!"
"If it's any consolation, you had an amazing first Grand Prix! And no one else but Baby Yuri saw the absolute mess of a conversation you had in the hotel lobby."
"I dare you to call him that to his face," Victor replies, trying to settle himself. His champagne flute is empty, so he casts his gaze around until he finds a server with a tray of full ones and snags another.
"I've no desire to learn what it feels like to have the blade of a skate shoved up my--"
"Victor!" A slurred voice calls out to them, and Victor spins around to see the crowd parting for a drunk Yuuri Katsuki, whose suit is unravelling around him, top buttons undone at his throat and his tie hanging loose and unknotted around his neck. He's a vision, and despite the slight stumble, still somehow achingly graceful. Victor can still hear Yuuri's free skate music in his head as Yuuri tilts his head sideways, licking his lips. "I've been looking for you!"
"For me?" Victor clutches his glass in a shaking hand as Chris laughs behind him and, like the traitorous asshole he is, shoves Victor forward with a hand at the small of his back. "Why?"
"I'm sorry I..." He blinks, blearily, and Victor tunes out the whispers and shocked murmurs of sponsors and other skaters to focus on the gift of Yuuri Katsuki's full attention. Yuuri rests a hand on his forearm for balance, looking up at him. His head is just about at the height of Victor's chin. "I'm sorry I couldn't talk to you earlier. I was... You made me nervous, and I didn't--" He hiccups. "I didn't know what to say, because I was upset about something else and, well, I just didn't know what to say."
"I made you nervous?" Victor tucks a long strand of his unbound hair behind his ear, and then, daringly, leans into Yuuri's touch, delighting when Yuuri doesn't move away.
"You know, 'cause you said..." He licks his lips again. His glasses are smudged, and Victor barely resists the urge to slide them from his face and clean them. He'd have done it if it were anyone else, but Victor knows his tactile nature can make people uncomfortable, and no matter how close Yuuri Katsuki is standing right now, he's still, for all intents and purposes, a stranger. "'Cause you said that thing about my body making music. I didn't know what to say. No one's ever said anything like that before, and they weren't you, either."
He's rambling, and it's adorable. Victor's mental image of his idol is rearranging itself in his mind, blossoming like a spring flower into something even better than Victor had previously imagined in his most secret of fantasies.
"They weren't me? I... won silver, but the points weren't even close," Victor replies. "My technical scores were almost as good as yours but the PCS scores..."
"That's because you're missing something from that program," Yuuri tells him, and he lifts his hand from Victor's forearm, then reaches up and taps his chest, right above his heart. Yuuri's breath smells like champagne, and his eyes are luminous even behind dirty lenses. "You're empty. You're skating about wanting to hold on--" Another hiccup. "--About wanting to hold on to someone, but you don't have anyone you want to hold onto."
"Oh," Victor says.
"But you're so beautiful when you skate, Victor." Yuuri's hand slides across his chest to his arm, and then slides smoothly down his arm. "I've been watching you since you were in juniors, and you're so beautiful."
"You've been--" The strangled noise Christophe makes behind him is either a laugh or a scream, and the murmurs around them are getting louder. "Watching me?"
"Let's dance," Yuuri replies. "It's a tango. Can you tango?"
"You can tango?" Victor asks, as Yuuri interlocks their hands. Victor's probably having an intense fever dream. He hopes he either has it forever or dies of it.
"I can do any kind of dance," Yuuri replies. "If you can't, I'll teach you. I'll teach you whatever you want to know."
"Oh," Victor says again, numbly relinquishing his drink to Chris, (who is defintiely laughing, and definitely taking photos), and letting Yuuri drag him out onto the dance floor.
Yuuri dips him as the song crescendos, leaning him back so far that his hair dragging on the floor, one hand at the nape of Victor's neck and the other clutching at his thigh. "I won't let you fall," he says, alcohol breath and bleary gaze not doing anything to make Victor less enamoured of him. Victor's trembling, amazed, and he thinks he understands what Yuuri meant about being empty, because now his chest feels so full it's overflowing.
"All right," Victor says, and Yuuri laughs and swirls him into another dance.
The evening devolves from there, like the Gold Medalist getting smashed is a carte blanche for everyone else to follow suit, and Victor has photos on his phone of Yuri getting completely trashed in a breakdancing competition and Christophe hanging deviantly from one of the temporary support poles that had previously been festooned in celebratory balloons. Through it all, Yuuri Katsuki continues to surprise him, losing elements of his suit at each challenge and dancing like he's never even heard of an inhibition. It's nothing like the demure Yuuri Katsuki written about in the magazines Victor's hoarded over the years, and Victor knows that's in part because Yuuri is wildly drunk, but he still savors this knew knowledge, holding it as close to his chest as he had that first poster all those years ago.
"You're going to be even more stupid after this," Yuri mutters to him as he takes a photo of Sara Crispino and Yuuri dancing a foxtrot that doesn't even remotely match the music, both of them laughing. "I can already tell."
"He told me I skate beautifully," Victor replies.
"You already know that," says Yuri. "You won a silver medal in your first Grand Prix. What's it matter if some old guy thinks you're great?"
"Don't lie," Victor says, sparing Yuri the briefest of glances, "you're just jealous that Yuuri complimented my skating--"
"Go die in a ditch," says Yuri, and before Victor can feign hurt feelings Yuuri Katsuki is reaching for him again, and pulling him back into the fray, and into another dance.
"The way you're dancing now," Yuuri says, as the music changes to another tango, this one even slower, "is the way you should skate."
"What?"
"If I were your coach," Yuuri says, "I would tell you that you need to find something that you want to keep, so you can give Stammi Vicino the..." He struggles for a moment, like the English is escaping him, "the longing it deserves."
"The longing?" Victor's being spun, but his head would be spinning either way. Yuuri's more intoxicating that the alcohol, and Victor knows there's an element of hero worship in the way he looks at Yuuri, but there's also a simmering attraction low in his belly that has more to do with the power of Yuuri's lead as he guides him across the dance floor, and the way he talks about Victor's skating like he knows it intimately. Like he really had been watching Victor since he was in juniors.
"Yes," Yuuri says, his hand so hot below Victor's shoulderblades. "If I were your coach... Have you ever longed for something, Victor?"
I will now, Victor thinks. "You keep saying that. If you were my coach. Do you want to be a coach, Yuuri?"
"I'd be yours," Yuuri replies, in crisp, perfect Russian. "You could come to my hometown, Hasetsu. I have a rink." And Victor knows that, and he's about to say so, but before Victor can reply, Yuuri's being tugged away, out of his arms.
It's Yuuri's coach, Celestino, who looks absolutely gobsmacked by the wreckage of the banquet hall, and by finding his star skater in the middle of it.
"Yuuri, what in the world has gotten into you?"
"Champagne!" Yuuri says, cheerfully, and then he giggles, resting his head on Celestino's shoulder. He's still got a hand laced with Victor's own.
"Let's get you back upstairs," Celestino says, before he looks at Victor. "Sorry if he's been any trouble. His dog died before the free skate, and he's been an emotional mess."
"Oh," Victor says, and it explains the champagne but not the compliments. "Is he...?"
"He'll be fine," Celestino assures him. "Hungover like he always is when he goes off the rails, but fine."
And then Yuuri's gone, in as fast a whirlwind as he'd appeared, leaving Victor at the edge of the dance floor.
"Well, well, well," Christophe says. "Fascinating." He wiggles his phone. "And more importantly, documented."
"Send me all of them," Victor says, desperately, and Chris laughs.
"Of course, my darling." He grabs Victor by the medal. "Now, let's have more champagne and talk all about it--"
"Absolutely not," says Yakov, who has a handful of Yuri's jacket and a sour look on his face. "No more alcohol. This whole banquet is in shambles."
"Aww, but Yakov, it was so fun~!" Victor gives him is biggest heart smile.
"If there are any indecent photos of you cavorting with the drunk gold medalist tomorrow, Victor, I swear..."
"Oh, I doubt anyone will post them," Christophe says. "Looks like the party's over for you though, Victor~! Bed time, I suppose."
Victor pouts, but it's mostly for show. Yuuri's last words, I'd be yours, sound like a different sort of promise than coaching, and simmer low in Victor's belly. He wants to think about them, immortalize them, and he can't do that here. Going to bed sounds fine. Perfect.
"You're humming," Yakov says to him, in the elevator. "Why on Earth are you humming?"
"Yuuri Katsuki told me I was a beautiful skater," Victor replies. "I think it's worth humming about!"
"This again?!" Yuri snarls.
"You were in second place to him," Yakov replies. "Are you satisfied with that, Victor? Is that all you want? To be complimented?" Yakov pushes Yuri out of the elevator when the door opens, but waits for Victor to walk out on his own. "You can beat him if you try. Stop getting caught up in your crush--"
"Yakov, it's not a crush--"
"I wasn't born yesterday," Yakov says.
"Clearly not," says Victor. "You've already lost all that hair--"
Yuri snickers, and Yakov glares at him. "That's it. Mila and Georgi are my only skaters now."
"Yakov, the betrayal," Victor says, earning him an angry shout from inside one of the other rooms on the hall.
"Go to bed, Victor," Yakov says. "Before this migraine consumes me."
"Yes, Coach," Victor replies, and he's still humming when he climbs into bed, freshly showered, and falls asleep, memories of Yuuri Katuski leading him in a divine tango filling his dreams.
*
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.
Re: FILL: TEAM KATSUKI YUURI/VICTOR NIKIFOROV, T, Part 3 of 3
omg the dancing and awkward yuuri, but him leading younger long-haird victor in that tango and say shit TO HIM in RUSSIAN, holy SHIT and lmao you left Yuuri being the one getting drunk ahahaha that's so cuuuuuuute
and yuri and victor being so much closer in age made my HEART BREAK INTO 90 PIECES, ITS SO NICE AAAHHHHHHHHHHH
*heavy breathing* oh my god I c a n n o t with this entire thing. It's so beautiful. BE MY COACH, YUURI!
Re: FILL: TEAM KATSUKI YUURI/VICTOR NIKIFOROV, T, Part 3 of 3
<3 glad it was okay!
Re: FILL: TEAM KATSUKI YUURI/VICTOR NIKIFOROV, T, Part 3 of 3
Holy crap. SO GOOD. ::insert incoherent flailing here:: THANK YOU FOR THIS!
Re: FILL: TEAM KATSUKI YUURI/VICTOR NIKIFOROV, T, Part 3 of 3
Re: FILL: TEAM KATSUKI YUURI/VICTOR NIKIFOROV, T, Part 3 of 3
FILL: Team Sawamura Daichi/Sugawara Koushi, G
Other Tags: None
Word Count: 1248
omg the word count is just the number before it doubled.... In other less nonsensical news, I present the first written fill I've ever done for SASO :x It was fun even I'm now squinting from staring at the screen so long lmaoo
***
Handy Dandy AO3 Link