This is certainly something. That's it. That's my excuse for this nonsense. It's something. I just got to thinking about Yuri and Victor's past and, though most everybody's theories I've seen stick to the same basics for Yuri, Victor's is a completely different story. And I blame Man From U.N.C.L.E. Victor could totally be an Illya. Sort of.

As always, hope you enjoy.

The man was watching him.

Yuri wasn't sure how long he had been standing there, arms crossed and back pressed against the wall beside the ice rink's locker room. He didn't know if he had just arrived or had been there since morning, watching everyone's practice.

All Yuri knew was that he glanced up and suddenly all he could see were two piercing blue eyes staring back. Unfortunately for him he'd been in the air when he spotted him, meaning he missed his landing and struck the ice- hard.

"Yuratchka!" Yakov's angry voice shouted, causing him to cringe as he stood back up, "What's gotten in that fool head of yours boy?"

Yuri shifted his gaze from the stranger to his coach, not at all surprised to see Victor smiling at him from beside the man. He couldn't spot the other Yuuri though, which was odd- him and Victor were always attached to the hip nowadays.

"Nothing, sir. Won't happen again," Yuri replied once it caught up to him that both males were waiting for a reply.

It wouldn't occur to him until later that they were waiting for him to scream at them, yell something rude and mildly insulting.

His eyes shifted to the spot the man had been standing, missing the surprised expression that crossed over Yakov's face. He missed Victor's slightly concerned frown as he followed the youth's eyes. Not that it mattered, there was no way he could've understood.

The man was gone.

"Are you feeling alright Yurio?" Victor asked as he turned his head back towards the blonde boy on the ice staring at the now empty wall with a perplexed expression spread across his youthful features.

"Huh?" Yuri said when he realized the question was directed at him, turning his head to stare at Victor, "No. I'm… fine. I'm fine."

"Yuri-?" Victor started but Yuri was already skating towards them, eyes shifting over to spot the man had stood- the spot where he should've been.

"Yuri, are you feeling alright?" Yakov demanded, bold enough to reach out and latch onto the youth's arm.

And under normal circumstances Yuri would've lashed out- would have already lashed out at the use of Yurio. He would've tried picking a fight he knew he was destined to lose just because he liked riling the two older men up, but his mind was on the stranger and his eyes.

Something about them had captivated his very soul, robbing it from his body, and he wanted it back. He just needed to-

"Yuri? What's wrong?" Victor's sudden voice demanded and Yuri blinked in shock because the silver haired man was suddenly right there cupping his face in his gloved hands, but this time wasn't like on that bridge.

This time Victor almost looked worried.

"I'm fine," Yuri repeated, voice still numb and caught somewhere in the back of his throat as he wrenched his arm free and moved to look over Victor's shoulder as he sputtered, "I- I'm going to use the toilet."

He didn't bother waiting for a response, already down the hall before either man could protest. He found Victor's Yuuri in the locker room stretching. The dark haired male immediately smiled upon seeing him.

"Yurio!" he greeted obnoxiously cheerful, but Yuri wasn't up to acting like his usual self.

He moved past the older man, ignoring him completely. He could feel Yuuri's piercing gaze on his back, knew what was coming because him and Victor were more alike than either will ever admit.

The stranger wasn't in there, a conclusion he decided before a hand spun him around. Brown eyes peered back at him in concern as the older man asked if he was alright. A stupid question but then Victor and Yakov were walking in and Yuri suddenly felt crowded.

"I said I was fine!" Yuri shouted at their questions, batting worried hands away as he turned his head to the side and explained, "I thought I saw a man watching me."

Wrong thing to tell a room full of already concerned older men who got it stuck in their heads that Yuri was a child. That Yuri needed the lot of them to protect him, and he's not stupid. He knew Victor had already interrogated Otabek about his intentions at the banquet after getting the other male too drunk to lie.

Friends.

Otabek and him were just friends, and even if they weren't it wasn't any of Victor's business. He wasn't his father- not that Yuri had the best example to go on. Now they all looked moments from striking something- all except Yuuri, who looked moments from passing out.

"Oye! What's wrong with you stupid Katsudon?" he bit out, putting as much fight as he could muster in the simple words.

It worked.

He hadn't planned it quite like that, will later blame his subconscious for the words. After all, he knew Victor better than he'd ever admit under torture. Perhaps better than he knew himself.

"Yuuri darling?" Victor asked, drawling out the 'u' in the Japanese man's name as his hands circled around his fiancé and holding him like he was the most precious thing in the world.

Yuri knew he was, in Victor's world.

Yuuri brushed him off, moving out from his hold so he could tighten his grip around Yuri's shoulders. That was unusual, and Victor stared blankly at the back of his lover's head.

"Yuri this is important. What kind of man was staring at you?" Yuuri demanded, and his hold hurt more than Yuri ever thought possible from the slender man; Yuuri gave him another shake followed with a repeated, "What kind of man?"

Yuri blinked in realization.

Sometimes, he realized numbly, he really is an idiot. They all thought he was being stared at by some pervert, taking advantage of a young protégé that practically lived by himself, which was wrong. Yuri knew it was. He just couldn't put into words what he'd felt when he'd locked eyes with the stranger, and he wasn't sure the others would understand even if he could. They were all stubborn like that; all except maybe Yuuri who still looked moments from passing out.

"No one," Yuri brushed off looking away as he added softer, "It was just some guy. He was probably just interested at my practice. It wouldn't have been the first time."

Victor narrowed his eyes in a glare- warning him of the low blow because he knew people from all around would stop by to watch Victor skate and he'd always brushed it away as excited fans. Yakov and Yuuri still looked unsure, though Yuuri did lessen his monster grip on him.

"Russia is so much different than Japan," Yuuri noted with an airy sort of smile, eyes soft as he gazed away in thought.

"It doesn't matter now," Yakov spoke up, stepping for to separate the two Yuri's, "and I think that's plenty of excitement for one day."

"I agree," Victor nodded, eyes strangely serious, "Come Yurio. You're staying over at my place tonight."

"So I can sleep on that god awful couch of yours? No thanks," Yuri snapped, the nickname he hated finally re-sparking his fight.

"Alright," Victor agreed with a nod and expression that informed Yuri that he'd already lost this battle, "Then I can call your grandfather to explain what had happened-"

"No!" Yuri protested, desperation making his voice raw.

His grandpa already did so much for him. He didn't need for him to unnecessarily start worrying him about trivial matters. It was just a man, men stare at him all the time. It was a part of being practically famous.

To Victor's credit, he didn't look particularly smug over his win. He just nodded, eyes looking ancient as they stared at him. Eyes that had always looked straight through him, even before they'd gotten to know each other.

Yuri hated those eyes.

"Just be safe walking back," Yakov commanded before he was gone, and it wasn't until closer to morning that Yuri realized his voice had been distracted in that way it got whenever he knew something the rest of them didn't.

Victor couldn't sleep, mind whirling a million miles per hour and he had no idea why. A supposed man staring at Yuri practice had kind of freaked him out at the ice rink, true, but both Yuris were safe in his apartment now, and Yuri had probably been right before.

People coming in to watch the famous figure skaters wasn't that big of a deal.

Even if said figure skater was only fifteen and had already gone through too much in his short life. He didn't want to tack on a potential stalker to the mix, especially considering he knew just how quickly it could unravel.

They always seem so harmless until they get it stuck in their head that you owe them something. That they're somehow a victim trapped in a web you had no intention of weaving, and somewhere along the line you start to believe it as well.

Yuri was too young for that type of burden.

The lump beside him gave a low groan, rolling over so their fingers could intertwine underneath the covers. It wasn't the first time Yuuri's sought him out while they slept, more of a cuddlier than Victor thought was possible after discovering drunk Yuuri and sober Yuuri were two completely different people.

What he hadn't expected was for Yuuri's soft voice to yawn by his head, "You still awake?"

Victor twisted over so he could stare in his fiancé's eyes, bringing his fingers up so he could place feather soft kisses along the knuckles. Yuuri just stared back at him, unimpressed and slightly concerned.

"You're always asleep before me," Yuuri murmured, shifting slightly, before he asked almost nervously, "Is this about Yuri?"

"Whatever do you mean darling?" Victor inquired with faux innocence despite knowing Yuuri knew Victor understand exactly what he was trying to say.

"It's why you're so clingy off the ice," Yuuri whispered, "so people won't stare at me like that, but Yuri doesn't have anyone like that. Plus he's still young and-"

"It isn't that," Victor cut off because the sudden thought of his Yuuri having a stalker made his blood turn to ice, "I'm just… thinking. If it was a fan then why did they leave once it was clear Yuri spotted them? Why wouldn't they make their presence known?"

Yuuri cocked his head to the side, black strands falling over his sleepy features adorably, as he asked, "So it is about Yuri."

"Not just Yuri," Victor confirmed, "Yakov had acted weird when he found out. Yuri didn't really notice, but I know him. I've had to deal with him when my own fans got out of control."

Yuuri shifted uncomfortably at the prospect as he deduced, "You think he's involved?"

"I think he knows something the rest of us do not," Victor corrected before he lowered his gaze and admitted softly, "That's what frightens me."

"If that's true," Yuuri murmured slowly, eyes bright and thoughtful as he pondered what Victor had just told him, "then I'm sure he was an excellent reason."

"Nyet. You don't know him well. He's a selfish man," Victor protested, "An excellent teacher but very selfish."

Yuuri was silent for a long time before he reached out to kiss Victor's cheek and whispered encouragingly, "You mustn't really think that if you left Yuri alone with him for a whole season."

Victor gave a self-discriminating smile as he breathed, "And, how I wonder, do you figure I'm not selfish too?"

"Because I know you and I know you care for Yuri deeply, despite how you act. You wouldn't leave him alone with someone you didn't completely trust," Yuuri replied simply.

Victor blinked at the uttermost faith in his words, even as Yuuri wished him happy dreams before drifting back off.

Victor reached out in the dark just so he could touch Yuuri's bangs. The hair was soft under his touch, delicate, and he marveled at just how lucky he was to have something as precious as Yuuri. If he had it his way, he'd never let go, which was precisely why Yakov's actions concerned him.

"How would you know I wouldn't find something to be selfish over," he whispered to no one in particular, hating himself and his weakness.

Yuri deserved better.

Perhaps not coach wise because Yakov was actually the best- and he's raised two of the most prominent skating names out there. Even still Victor could remember a withdrawn and silent Yuri, who wouldn't do much more than glare at anyone who dared crossed him.

Victor had resented that, hating how a mere child could look at him like he knew something Victor didn't. Then Victor found out about the kid's home life, he'd met the kid's ailing grandfather, and he swore that was it. He'd always be there for him in whichever form the kid needed, and as long as he was there nothing could happen to him.

Then he saw that video of Yuuri skating his performance, and he knew he'd found something he'd treasure over everything else.

Selfish.

And the worst part? Every intelligent person saw it as well, they just hadn't cared. They'd beamed at him with those cheesy smiles as they congratulated him and Yuuri like everything was okay when they knew just how selfish Victor's choice had been.

Unforgivable.

And when Yuri confronted him on that bridge his words had been heated, so obviously looking to pick a fight with him. Victor wouldn't have normally complied but he'd poked at Victor's weakness, had so clearly seen straight through him from the beginning, and Victor had still done nothing.

Not every skater looks up to you.

I'll show you just how incompetent its owner is.

And when he'd jerked himself free, promising to take the gold, Victor had let him. Victor watched as he walked away, mind screaming at him to explain what he'd done and why. Explain why he'd left the kid after so many promises on the contrary.

Empty promises.

Selfish desires.

And he knew Yuri could see them. Most people could but not quite like Yuri. Yuri saw it all, had seen it in that hall when Victor had hugged him. Had seen how it had never been about him but the other Yuuri and even then he'd fought so Victor could keep the one thing he was afraid of losing. After everything Victor's done for him, Yuri still fought for him.

Growling in the back of his throat, he rolled out of bed. Yuuri gave a soft whine, immediately burrowing himself further in the covers; Victor remained where he stood, staring down at him with more affection then he'd ever thought he was capable of for anyone, until his mind caught up with him once more and he forced himself away.

Out in his living room Makkachin was on the couch, curled protectively around Yuri's skinny legs. Yuri didn't seem to notice, head burrowed in a spare pillow and blanket twisted around his waist. Victor gave another fond smile, different but similar in all the ways that actually counted, as he pulled the blanket back to the youth's shoulders.

Makkachin looked up, sleepy gaze focusing on Victor. Victor smiled at him, reaching out to pet his poodle's head. Makkachin snorted contently before laying his massive head back against Yuri's thigh.

"Watch out for him tonight, da?" Victor whispered and he could've sworn he saw his dog blink in agreement.

Yuri murmured lowly in the back of his throat, unconsciously reaching out to pull the blanket tighter around his shoulders. He looked like a child. He was still a child, Victor reminded himself, and he wasn't sure when he started to care so much and he couldn't bring himself to care.

Which was why Yakov's earlier unease was keeping him awake at night.

He knew something; he was hiding something from them, which meant the man hadn't been there because he liked the way Yuri skated. He wasn't even there to catch a glimpse of the still famous Victor, or the ever growing popular Katsuki Yuuri.

He'd been there for Yakov.

He'd been staring at Yuri.

"What're you playing at old man?" Victor asked as he tipped his head to the side, crouched on the floor of his living room watching Yuri sleep.

Victor didn't know, couldn't feasibly come up with an acceptable reason in his old coach's defense. One thing Victor was certain of, though.

Come tomorrow he was going to find out before it affected someone Victor cared for.

"Victor? You're here early?" Yakov noted, impressed, as Victor narrowed blue eyes at the man and moved to corner him.

Behind him he could hear Yuri complain about the time for the millionth time now, and it was only by the grace of an angel named Yuuri that he hadn't already struck someone. Someone who would've no doubt turned out being Victor the moment he'd yanked the cover off the youth's sleeping form.

"Why don't we go warm up Yuri?" Yuuri asked from behind Victor, hands enclosing around the teenager's shoulders as he already started guiding him towards the locker room.

Yuri grumbled but complied, and Victor wondered if either of them realized what they were doing. He didn't think so.

"I can say the same for you," Victor greeted with false cheer, dangerous smile crossing his features as he stared at the man he'd once admired enough to stake his future career on.

Now he had to resist the urge to punch him in the face because he was certain now. That man had been there for Yakov, and he'd caught sight of Yuri and his stare had made Yuri uncomfortable enough that he didn't brush off the occurrence until Victor was trying to force-feed him carry out.

"I'm always here at this time," Yakov snorted in that haughty tone of his as he crossed his arms and added lowly, "You were always late, even during competition- especially during competitions."

"Or maybe you're waiting for someone," Victor argued, leaning against the wall as he gazed at the man expectantly.

Yakov's expressions didn't give anything way, not that that meant anything. He's always been good at hiding his emotions.

The image of him holding Yuri up in nothing but pride when he'd broken Victor's record flashed through his mind. At the time he'd been able to convince himself that he'd been right to leave. Yakov would never have given Yuri the attention he deserved while he was fretting over making Victor's last couple of years memorable.

Now he couldn't help but feel disappointed at whatever selfish reason the man had for putting Yuri at risk- putting Victor and Yuuri at risk as well. It could've very well been either of them skating on the ice when they'd caught his eye. Except Victor could take care of himself, and he'd rot before he let anything happen to Yuuri.

Either one of them, he concluded with a silent resolve that only hardened his stare as he gazed back at Yakov.

"Whatever you're trying to insinuate Victor come on out and say it," Yakov snarled, crossing his arms and leaning his back against the wall Victor was leaned against.

His hat was hiding his eyes, though, which was all the indication that he was involved in whatever had happened yesterday Victor needed. Victor turned, mimicking Yakov's posture as he focused blue eyes on the ice in front of him.

"That man had been here for you yesterday," Victor noted in his usual carefree tone but he'd kept the steel he's seen unnerve men stronger than Yakov, "but he'd caught sight of Yuri practicing. Should that worry me?"

Yakov snorted, unfazed by Victor's tone.

"Doubt it," Yakov replied as he pushed himself from the wall, "Yuri's improved a lot. It's rare to see something so beautiful on the ice, wouldn't you agree?"

Victor's eyes narrowed even as Yakov moved towards the locker room. He could tell a barb against him when he heard it, but that wasn't what bothered him. It was the flippant attitude in which Yakov had adapted upon the whole matter.

"Just make sure to remember that he isn't your tool," Victor said, watching as Yakov froze. Tense and angry. Victor wondered if he was going to get struck, kind of wished he would.

"I'll make sure to keep that in mind," and then he was gone.

Yakov was angry, which made Yuri angry.

Worst, he knew Victor was to blame. Victor and whatever he had said to his coach while Yuuri had drug him to the locker room. Not that Yuri cared what they talked about, only that it had put Yakov in a bad mood.

"You're back needs to be straighter in your landing!" Yakov screamed at him, face practically red from lack of oxygen.

Very bad mood.

Yuri didn't do more than glare, panting from exhaustion. He was thirsty too, not having been permitted a break since getting on the ice.

"Again!" Yakov barked at Yuri's hard expression.

Yuri's eyes darkened even as he obeyed, only this time his toes weren't quite right, and Yuri wasn't sure why Yakov was scrutinizing him so intensely except whatever he'd spoke with Victor about had unnerved him.

"Again!"

"No," Yuri snapped before he could stop himself.

Yakov blinked at him in surprise, matched only by Yuri's own expression. After all they were the only two there, Yakov having already chased Victor and Yuuri off to lunch.

Yakov recovered first, and he recovered angry.

"What did you just say to me?" his coach shouted, already moving towards him and Yuri swallowed because he's never seen that type of expression from him before.

"I- I said no," Yuri replied, straightening his back in preparation for the fight he knew was coming.

"Why you ungrateful little brat. I have half the mind to beat you," Yakov snarled, and he's never been known as nice but he's never been cruel either.

"Then where would you be?" Yuri challenged skating towards the man, "You can't hide bruises Yakov, and enough people know my face to know that something would be wrong."

Yakov scoffed, turning his head, as he growled, "Always so proud, my Yuratchka. Brass. It's not a wonder you have no friends."

Yuri sniffed, crossing his arms defiantly as he decided, "Victor must've put you in a really bad mood. Was he right?"

He shouldn't have brought up Victor.

He knew better than to bring up Victor, and he'd unfortunately skated close enough that when Yakov pounced on him he'd caught him.

A large hand encircled around Yuri's arm, jerking him forward. He let out a cry of shock, trying in vain to free himself. Yakov held tight, jerking him so they were practically nose to nose as Yuri's coach panted angrily. His eyes were dark, narrowed. Furious. More furious than Yuri's ever seen him, the only event even close was after he discovered Victor had run off to Japan.

"After everything I've done for you, you ungrateful little-" Yuri missed whatever he said next, drowned out by the static rushing through his ears.

"Stupid ungrateful little shit. I can't believe I work all day only to come home and have to babysit a child."

"Stupid, stupid, stupid. That's all you ever are. Stupid as you are hideous."

"No one loves you boy. Not your mother, not me. You're nothing but a sad accident. A mistake two people made a long time ago."

"No one could ever love a weak little thing like you."

"How did I ever earn a bastard son like you?"

Something shook him, breaking him from his thoughts.

He blinked, and he was no longer a little kid standing in front of his father. He was back on the ice rink, Yakov staring at him with a wide eyed expression. And Yuri knew the man wasn't his father, he'd never intentionally do anything to hurt him. Just scream at him for a bit.

"I-" Yuri muttered before his knees went weak and Yakov had to catch him underneath his armpits.

"Yuri? Talk to me boy," Yakov commanded, giving him a slight jostle as Yuri tried to blink and clear his head.

"I'm sorry," Yuri whispered softly moving away from his coach, "I'm going to get some water."

He removed his skates, pulling on his high tops before making his break to the hallway where he found a water fountain. Then he kicked it, the sound resonating in the empty hall. Tears gathered in the corners of his eyes, and he couldn't remember the last time he shed a tear over his parents.

"I'm not weak," Yuri forced past his closing panic, "I'm strong."

Strength is nothing without beauty, Lilia had once told him, as long as you master both you can never lose. You'll never lose ever again.

"I am strong father," Yuri breathed, hands shaking so badly he had to cram them into his pockets as he repeated, "I'm strong, and I'm beautiful."

His knees went weak once more, and this time no one was there to keep him up. He collapsed in the middle of the hallway, his breath coming out in quick heavy pants. He wasn't a fool. He recognized what this was.

Panic attack.

He hadn't had one of those since his grandpa got him away. Only a few know what it had been like at his home before he'd gotten away. Now it was smacking him in the face full force, mocking whatever life he's tried building in the last couple of years.

You'll get nothing good because you deserve nothing good.

You are nothing.

"No," Yuri protested, "I am strong. I am beautiful. You were wrong. You've always been wrong. My name is Yuri Plisetsky, and I have the eyes of the soldier."

He rose to his feet, pulling out his phone and dialing without thinking. He moved towards the bathroom, locking himself in one of the stalls as he waited out the ringing praying for them to answer.

Ring. Ring. Ring.

Pick up, please.

Ring.

"Yuri?" a tired masculine voice asked and Yuri realized there was a thirteen hour difference but he'd never been more relieved to hear the sound of another person's voice before.

"Beka?" Yuri asked, biting back the sob building in the back of his throat.

"Yura?" Otabek asked adopting his Victor's nickname for him that one time he'd unintentionally overheard, "Is everything alright?

"I'm fine," Yuri promised leaning against the door and tipping his head back so he was staring at the ceiling, "I just missed your voice is all."

"Yuri? Has something happened?" Otabek pressed and Yuri hadn't realized he'd missed the other male until just then.

"No. I just- I needed someone to talk to."

"Alright," Otabek agreed and Yuri imagined him nod, "You can talk. I'll listen."

So Yuri did. Nothing important, nonsense mostly, but Otabek listened to all of it. Every word without interruption and when Yuri finally hung up his heart felt lighter than it had in a long time.

Schooling his expression Yuri pocketed his phone and left the bathroom. Victor and Yuuri were on the ice; Yakov was nowhere to be seen. He hoped the man hadn't picked a fight with the couple before he left because Victor's proven in the past that there were some fights Yakov was always destined to lose.

Yuuri saw him first, face breaking out in a bright smile as he waved and called, "Yurio!"

Victor spun around, greeting him just as enthusiastically. Yuri just gave them a droll stare before making a point to glance around.

"Where's Yakov?" he asked because he needed to discuss what had happened.

"We haven't seen him," Yuuri informed him shifting a nervous glance towards Victor and Yuri may act like he didn't like the man but it always impressed him on how quickly he's capable of reigning in the other male.

"Did something happen Yuri?" Victor asked starting to close the distance between them.

"No," Yuri reassured moving towards the locker room, "I'm fine."

He missed the shared look between Victor and Yuuri. He missed the way Yuuri suddenly grasped Victor's wrist, fingers messaging the flesh soothingly. He missed the way the ice in Victor's eyes melted at the touch.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Yuuri asked.

"No," Yuri brushed off with a wave of his hand, "I'll be fine."

He turned the corner to the locker room, missing the concerned look the couple shared. Yakov wasn't in there either. Yuuri and Victor were still in the same spot he'd left them staring like he killed Victor's dog. Ridiculous because- even though he's more of a cat person- he'd never hurt that poodle.

"What'd you two want?" Yuri snapped heatedly.

Yuuri's hand shifted to Victor's arm. A harmless touch to anyone except for Yuri who's spent the majority of his time nowadays staring at their lame selves.

"We just want you to be okay," Yuuri promised, "You're not alone. You know that right?"

Yuri tried not to be touched- he really did- but the genuine look in Yuuri's expression sent something tickling his insides. So all he did was sigh and nod, resigned but fine. He was fine. He was strong. He is strong, and his father had been wrong.

And he was going to prove it.

"Mister Feltsman, can we talk?"

The voice sounded small. Timid. Not at all Russian.

Yakov looked up to see Victor's Japanese little pet project, Katsuki Yuri, staring back at him expectantly. He looked nervous- unsure- yet his eyes betrayed his strength and he'll forever blame Victor's influence on that.

Not that he held any ill feelings towards the man. He'd seen his growth in confidence. He'd seen his growth as a skater, having transformed into something almost beautiful. He'd seduced Victor, practically stole him from his homeland.

"What's the occasion?" Yakov demanded.

"I wanted to speak with you about Yuri, sir," Yuuri explained and Yakov felt his heart stutter in his chest even as Yuuri continued with a tilted head, "Did something happen while we were gone?"

On a lunch break Yuuri had suggested. Something Yakov had appreciated at the time, Victor practically breathing down his neck the entire time. He'd always approved of the way Victor had treated Yuri, had been happy to see someone with such a broken past have someone who cared so much even before he knew everything.

Then Yuri had… been Yuri. Yakov had pushed him too far- had known he'd been pushing it too far- but once he had started he hadn't wanted to stop. He wanted to see how far he could push before he broke the youth.

Consequently, he'd taken too far and even then he hadn't stopped. He'd grabbed the boy without his permission. He'd done so with a malicious intent, and when he saw the sudden panic in the boy's eyes Yakov felt something close to real horror.

He hadn't meant it.

He'd never mean anything like that. Yuri had- Lord help him- grown to mean something to him, and his sudden vulnerability made him feel lost and hapless for the first time in a long time.

"Yuri and I had a disagreement," Yakov explained vaguely, "It became escalated."

"You're telling me," Yuuri snorted unimpressed, "Do you want to talk about it?"

Yakov shook his head as he brushed off, "I'd rather not and if you know what's good for you, you won't push this matter further."

"Like you pushed Yuri?" the younger male demanded even as he stepped aside to allow Yakov to pass, "Was it something you said?"

Yakov froze, shoulders tense.

"Except it wasn't, not really?" Yuuri continued, taking Yakov's presence as an invitation to keep talking, "Yuri doesn't just react to words carelessly thrown about. He has thick skin in that perspective, but even still he is just a child. I'm sure you already knew that, though, being his coach and all."

Perhaps he'd underestimated the Japanese skater.

"Do you have a point to all of this?" Yakov grunted without turning because he was afraid of what he'd find on the young man's face.

"What'd you do to him Mister Feltsman?" and Yakov did turn so he saw the knowing expression on the older Yuuri's face.

It sent chills down the older man's spine. Wrapping down before curling at the base of his back like a dragon. Stressed. Anxious.

"What're you hinting at boy?" he demanded instead because he knew better than to try and justify what he'd did to either Yuuri or Victor.

Yuuri didn't appear deterred, not even fazed, as he stepped forward. His face was an eerie calm, eyes burning. It was no wonder Victor had been so entranced by the male before him, whereas Victor was ice: deadly as he is beautiful, Yuuri was fire. He burned so bright, leaving a sort of afterglow wherever he went.

"If you ever touch or hurt Yuri Plisetsky again I'll make you regret it. I don't know how, and if you're half as smart as I think you are then you won't test me to find out. Are we clear Mister Feltsman?" his tone was even and almost civil but his words left a sour taste in the back of Yakov's throat.

He didn't doubt for a moment that Yuuri would do well on his promise, and that he only looked harmless. Acted harmless as long as no one he cared for was threatened. He just hadn't thought that the Japanese Yuuri cared for the Russian Yuri- not with how the boy had treated him. That he'd only tolerated him because Victor so clearly favored the younger skater.

Yuuri flashed him another smile before he walked past him and down the hall, leaving Yakov contemplating how he'd been wrong about the Japanese skater. Drastically so.

He hadn't approved of their relationship because he felt like Yuuri had stolen his best student. Then he came to see him as a threat, had watched as he practically climbed the ladder as he reached for the top and it had been shaky but he'd managed to pull himself together enough to get second place by a mere 0.12 points.

This side Yakov had yet to see until just now, and he suddenly wished that he had never gotten the honor.

Victor found Yuri sitting on one of the benches outside, bag propped in his lap and hood pulled over his head. Strands of blond hair cascading over pale skin as he tapped aggressively on his phone's screen. Normal for the teen, not at all like how he'd been acting earlier.

"Yuri?" Victor asked, voice unsure as blue eyes waited patiently for the boy pick up on his presence.

He didn't even flinch.

Victor stepped closer, hand reaching out to settle on the boy's shoulder. Yuri leapt out of his seat, spinning around so he could glare up at him. His hands reached up to jerk his headphones so they dangled around his neck.

"What the hell Victor?" the boy snapped but Victor saw the way the boy's shoulders had tremored slightly at Victor's touch.

What did Yakov do while they were out getting lunch?

"What were you doing just sitting out here Yuri?" Victor asked instead trying as best as he could to keep the worry note from his voice.

He probably failed considering the way Yuri's eyes narrowed up at him and the way the boy snarled defensively, "That's none of your business stupid Victor."

"I'm just worried about you," Victor explained, hands raised in front of him in a placating gesture, "Please don't shut me out."

"That's great coming from you considering you couldn't even remember your promises you made to me before," Yuri growled voice overwrought like a tightly wound coil, "Why are you suddenly pretending to care about me?"

"I do care for you though," Victor tried as he stepped forward; Yuri stepped back, eyes untrusting and narrowed and Victor knew why he was secluded himself from the rest of the world; he just always figured that where it really counted he wouldn't- not like this, not with him.

"Bullshit and we both know it," Yuri growled before he released a heavy sigh and concluded, "We both know you're only playing nice with me. I don't know why, and I don't care. Just stop. I already told you I'm fine."

"You're not fine Yura. I just want what's best for you," Victor pleaded anyways.

"Don't call me that!" Yuri finally snapped and Victor stepped back as his heart momentarily halted in his chest; Yuri slung his bag around his neck as he added softer, "Just leave me alone Victor. Please."

Victor stepped back even as Yuri continued to inch away from him. His eyes were wide as they peered up at him expectantly, and Yuri held his vulnerability well from the world so it was always so easy to forget just how young he really was- how broken his childhood had truly left him.

"Whatever you want," Victor promised, and Yuri stared up at him for a long moment before he swallowed, gave a brisk nod and hurried away.

And Victor just stood there- trying to not feel like a complete jackass- until Yuuri found him several minutes later asking if he was alright.

"I'm fine darling," Victor promised as Yuuri reached up to kiss his cheek.

"You've always been a terrible liar Victor," Yuuri purred in his ear and it would've normally sent chills down Victor's spine but this time was different- all he felt was numb.

"Let's call it a day," Victor said instead turning his attention back to his expectant fiancé, "I promised you dinner after all. You're choice, name it."

Yuuri's hand traced along Victor's shoulder as he murmured, "I'm not really hungry for food. Rain check?"

And the excitement hidden behind Yuuri's gaze, promising a delightful sort of night, Victor finally felt the beginning of something. He pulled Yuuri away, grinning down at him with a mischievous glint in his eye.

"Of course darling," Victor agreed bending down to whisper in Yuuri's ear, "whatever you want. Just tell me and it's yours."

"What did Yuri say?" Yuuri's husky voice asked, tilting his head back so he could stare up at Victor.

They were curled up on Victor's bed, Victor's arm wrapped around Yuuri's waist so he could hold him securely against him. It was Yuuri's favorite moment, one of the few he felt safe. Secure. Like the world could end at that moment, and it wouldn't affect them. The world couldn't touch them, couldn't change this moment.

Something had been nagging along the edges of Yuuri's brain, though, and it worried him by how tightly Victor was clinging to him. Almost as if he was afraid of losing him too.

"Nothing you need to concern yourself over my love," Victor reassured too quickly, burrowing his nose in Yuuri's hair as he planted soft kisses along his crown.

"I am concerned though," Yuuri protested, twisting so he was facing Victor and pulling them apart.

He twisted their fingers together as compensation, though, and Victor bent forehead so their foreheads were touching. Affectionate and practically touch starved from the way he would act- especially in the bed together.

"I really wished you wouldn't," Victor breathed in his face, taking advantage of the moment to kiss his nose lightly.

"I know," Yuuri nodded before pulling his head away once more so Victor would focus on the matter at hand, "What did you two talk about while I wasn't around?"

"Why don't you tell me what you and my coach discussed?" Victor deflected, and Yuuri narrowed his gaze.

He'd learned a long time ago that when Victor didn't want to open up about something that it'd take a lot more than a couple of stolen kisses and shared body heat for him to open up. This wasn't just some bad day Victor didn't want to talk about in bed. This was about his relationship with Yuri, and Yuuri wasn't about to let their stubbornness drive each other away.

It felt slightly controlling, but Yuuri didn't care and if opening up to Victor was what it took then he was more than willing to comply.

"I warned him to not let his anger control his actions," Yuuri murmured tracing his fingers around Victor's biceps, "Now you. What'd Yuri say?"

Victor sucked in a deep breath before he caved in and replied, "In short? Piss off."

"I'm not British though I do appreciate the filter," Yuuri informed him, rising up to kiss the corner of Victor's mouth.

Victor smiled, hand reaching up to brush his bangs from his face. Yuuri ducked away from the hand, frowning up at his fiancé. Victor made a distressed noise in the back of his throat.

"What did you say to Yuri?" Yuuri inquired and Victor's blue eyes narrowed into a glare; Yuuri smiled up at him, keeping his expression carefree and almost jovial.

He knew it would work just like he knew Victor was a sucker for that smile.

Victor still huffed in agitation at the questions but he complied, "I didn't get much out before he started shouting at me. Now can we please stop speaking of another man in bed?"

He swooped down to steal another kiss. Yuuri caught his mouth with his palm; Victor's eyes furrowed together.

"Firstly, Yuri isn't just another man. He's a fifteen year old kid that I know you care for so quit acting like you don't because he hurt your feelings," Yuuri said with his own sort of steel underlining his words, "and I know that he cares for you too. At the very least he doesn't want you to just leave him again."

He removed the hand so Victor could demand in an agitated tone, "Leave him? Last I checked I wasn't the one who screamed at the person trying to help."

Yuuri made a displeased noise in the back of his throat as he chided, "Quit acting like such a child Victor. It's unbecoming."

Victor sat up on his arm as he accused, "I'm getting the feeling that you're very biased against me."

Yuuri leaned forward, leaning in so Victor was forced to lay back down as he hummed, "I'm currently engaged with you Victor. I'd walk through Hell and back for you. I'd die if I thought it'd keep you safe and happy. Don't insinuate such things about me."

Victor stared up at him, blue eyes wide and watery, as he asked with a soft whine, "Why are you saying such horrid things all of a sudden?"

"Because the difference between you and Yuri is that Yuri is an actual child and you merely act like one," Yuuri explained, "So what're you going to do about this?"

Victor tipped his head to the side, silver bangs falling in his face as he reached up to dangle his hands over Yuuri's shoulders as he replied, "I could kiss you."

"Except that wouldn't really solve your current dilemma," Yuuri shut down, sitting up so he was straddling Victor's hips.

"I don't know Yuuri," Victor admitted sounding as lost and mournful as he looked.

Yuuri stared at him for a long moment before bending over to plant a soft kiss to Victor's cheek before whispering in his ear, "Have you tried talking to him?"

"I think it's been concluded that talking to him isn't the best approach," Victor reminded with a hard look that had Yuuri smiling down at him fondly.

He climbed off him so he could settle beside him on the bed as he suggested simply, "So invite him to breakfast."

Blue eyes narrowed.

"What?" Victor demanded, earning him another peck on the cheek.

"Invite him to breakfast," Yuuri repeated like it was obvious because, really, it wasn't overly complicated before he elaborated, "Yuri is shutting you out because- in his eyes- he practically doesn't exist until something happens to him. Then you puff your feathers out like some predatory bird trying to maintain dominance."

"I do not ignore him," Victor protested but Yuuri shushed him by pressing his fingers to his lips and giving him a narrowed glare.

"You might as well Victor," Yuuri informed him, "because despite what you very well think Yuri is a very affectionate person, and all he wants is to be noticed by you so why don't you try noticing him for once? Invite him to breakfast. Tomorrow. Before practice, you can even walk together."

"And what about you?" Victor asked.

"I've lived here long enough to know my way to the rink. I'll be fine for a day," Yuuri brushed off, waving his hand in the air.

Victor rolled over, laying in the crook of his elbow as he stared up at Yuuri and challenged, "What if he says no?"

Yuuri scoffed, glancing away before back down at the older man and replied, "He's definitely going to say no, but you're going to get your lazy butt out of bed and go the diner regardless."

Victor's eyes bugged from his skull as he demanded, "Why would I do that?"

"Because he just wants to know that you care for him more than you do yourself," Yuuri explained bending over to kiss Victor's lips before going to climb from bed; he threw Victor's phone at his head as he commanded, "Call him while I'm in the shower. I mean it Victor."

Then he snagged one of Victor's sweatshirts from his drawer before disappearing in the bathroom.

Five minutes.

Victor stared at the phone for five whole minutes, Yuuri's words replaying over and over again in his head. It didn't make any sense. Breakfast, maybe. After all, since moving to Russia the two Yuris have bonded more than Victor will ever like to admit so Yuuri should know better than anyone else.

But to eat alone?

Is Yuuri crazy?

Eventually he realized it all came down to one thing so that was how he ended up- five minutes later- sitting on the edge of his bed calling someone who made it clear that they didn't want talk to him. Yuri did answer, though, so at least that was something.

"What could you possibly want, stupid Victor?" the agitated voice greeted him hotly.

"It's good to hear from you too Yuri," Victor replied though with considerably less cheer than he would have normally, "I've called to ask if you would like to eat breakfast with me tomorrow before practice."

"Eat breakfast? With you and that stupid Katsudon?" Yuri demanded, Victor's blood boiling slightly at the barb against Yuuri but Yuuri had already promised he didn't mind it and that Victor was probably more jealous that he got a nickname and Victor didn't.

"No. Just me," Victor explained and Yuri paused so long Victor had thought he'd hung up so he asked, "Hello?"

"My answer is no," was all he got before there was a soft click indicating that Yuri had hung up on him.

Victor sat the phone by his side, long fingers tapping in thought. He prided himself in all things Yuri, but at the moment both of them were baffling him and he was at a loss of trying to figure out some sort of solution.

Twelve minutes later Yuuri emerged, his lithe form practically swallowed by one of Victor's old sweatshirts that had been too big on him. Gifts from the other competitors, ones that had no doubt previously been possessed without the intent of just being handed off.

Victor always had that way with people.

Except for Yuri. And Yuuri.

"How'd the call go?" Yuuri asked drying damp hair with the towel and Victor knew the other male had already figured out how it went and was asking for no other reason than to yank his chain.

"Fine. Just fine," Victor responded.

"Really?" Yuuri's surprised voice asked and he looked so excited all of a sudden, "That's fantastic! Really it is! I thought for certain that he'd say no."

"Yeah," Victor agreed even as Yuuri wrapped his neck in a tight hug, "I guess you underestimated me, huh?"

Yuuri pulled away to stare back at him earnestly as he nodded and replied, "Yes. I did, but I'm so happy for you Victor. Truly. This is fantastic."

And now he had a breakfast date with himself.

Just great.

Yuri wasn't there, big surprise. He'd verbally told him he wasn't showing up but because Yuuri had been so excited about the prospect of Victor not having strained their relationship unintentionally he set an alarm and was sitting in the small diner by himself before the sky woke up.

"More coffee Mr. Nikiforov?" the waitress- a petite brunette with ringlet curls and perhaps revealing too much cleavage to be considered professional- asked him for the tenth time in the last five minutes.

Before that it was if his eggs were scrambled enough and before that it was what he'd like to order anything extra. She was making excuses to come talk to him and considering Victor had never offered a name she was a fan or at the very least acquainted with figure skating.

She must not realize he's engaged. Perhaps he should introduce her to Phichit Chulanont's social media accounts.

Then again…

He winked and smiled even as he denied, "No thanks miss."

Her face burned a bright red, and she stumbled on her way back to the kitchen. Definitely a fan then, one that mustn't figure Yuuri as much of a threat considering he's male.

Victor scoffed in his coffee, smile melting into an irritated scowl because it was much too early. He could be in bed, snuggling with Yuuri and instead he was being hit on with the waiting staff.

"Not everyone knows about you and Yuuri, you know," a tight voice informed and Victor nearly spit the bitter coffee all over the moody teen sitting across from him; Yuri smiled thinly as he noted, "Your senses must be failing you in your old age."

Victor blinked, just to ensure himself that he wasn't imagining it, before he asked perhaps a little too eagerly, "I thought you said you weren't coming."

"And I wasn't going to," Yuri reassured with a haughty tone before he ducked his expression underneath a curtain of blonde hair as he explained softly, "I didn't actually think you were going to show up."

Victor tipped his head to the side as he inquired confusedly, "Then what are you doing here?"

Yuri shrugged his shoulders before the waitress returned, and Victor didn't miss the sudden cold tone she used when she realized Victor had received company. Yuri didn't seem to mind, demanding one of the more expensive things on the menu before reassuring her that he wasn't paying for the meal- Victor was.

Victor's head shot up at that, and he meant to deny the claim. He really did, but one glance at the childishly innocent expression on Yuri's face (which was fake, Victor knew, but still very convincing) accompanied by the expectant look on the waitress's and he flashed another one of his seductive grins.

"Isn't that right Victor?" Yuri asked adopting a sudden unsure frown as the waitress folded her arms waiting for Victor to tell her that Yuri wasn't much more of a punk and needed to be booted from the establishment immediately.

"Of course. Why would there ever be a question of doubt?" Victor innocently inquired, and the waitress's face turned red once more as she disappeared back in the kitchen.

Yuri waited six seconds before he burst out in laughter. Real genuine laughter that made Victor's heart swell with a surprising warmth. He couldn't help but laugh with him.

"I'm so glad that you're here," Yuri admitted so suddenly and Victor stopped laughing as he stared back at the boy who continued, "They would've never served me otherwise. They're not the biggest fans of children."

"But she's a fan of skating," Victor protested and Yuri's name may not be as well-known as Victor's yet but it was enough so.

"No. She's a fan of attractive men that appear on the news occasionally," Yuri explained as he propped his elbows on the table and asked with that deceptive innocence again, "Do you think she's going to spit in my food?"

It was meant to be teasing but the thought sent something hot curling in Victor's stomach as he glared in the direction she kept disappearing off to as he growled, "She better not."

"You do know that I don't need you to constantly try to rescue me, right?" Yuri queried a little more seriously, narrowing his eyes at him.

Victor offered him a smile- different than the one he kept giving the waitress, more genuine- as he replied, "I know. I just know what it is like, feeling alone all the time."

"And let me guess," Yuri interpreted with a droll stare and tilt of his head, "you're always there for me. No matter what it is, I call and you'll be there. A little sappy for you, don't ya think?"

Victor sniffed, reaching out to capture one of the boy's hands into his as he promised, "Regardless of sap one phone call and I'll be there. I promise."

Yuri snapped his hand away as he murmured with a lowered expression, "I think we can both agree how much you suck at promises Victor."

This time Victor just settled his fingers on top of Yuri's enclosed fists as he reassured determinedly, "This one is different. I never want to see you hurt, and I won't make it easy for those who try it."

"Is that what this is?" Yuri asked raising his head so he could stare at him- scrutinize him with his eyes- even as he demanded, "Another fake assurance made by the great Victor Nikiforov? How many hearts have you broken with that line?"

Victor leaned forward, locking eyes with the youth, as he purred, "Why Yuri you must very well know by now that blonde really isn't my type, and you're much too young for my tastes. Besides, haven't you heard, I'm an engaged man."

He held up his ring just to spite the boy and Yuri's frown deepened.

Even still, he hadn't moved his hand out from underneath Victor's fingers.

"Put that thing away," Yuri snapped with an uneasy glance around, "You don't have to turn everything into an excuse to flaunt it around."

It didn't matter that the words were meant to hold bite in them. It didn't matter that they ended with Yuri demanding about his lack of food- quite loudly at that. None of it mattered because Victor had picked up on the kid's nervousness almost instantly.

Something wasn't right.

A quick look around revealed that the only other costumer was a man sitting at a table by the restrooms. He was well-groomed, hair slicked back with meticulous care. Even his eyebrows appeared to have been plucked recently. It was his suit that had caught Victor's attention, though.

Dark.

Expensive.

Italian.

Victor pulled out his wallet, throwing more than enough money to cover the two of them, before he commanded for Yuri to grab his jacket because they were leaving, and the kid made a show of leaving but his eyes kept flickering over to the man in the corner.

Please no. Not him. Anyone but him.

The man rose with them, started after them, but Victor already had them outside yanking Yuri towards the street with actual people. Witnesses.

"What's gotten into you stupid Victor?" Yuri demanded, keeping step despite the fact Victor was still trying to drag him along.

No. That was impossible. Yuri wasn't actually caught up with that type of people. It was just a coincidence. Victor believed in coincidences, kind of.

"Victor!" Yuri shouted once they reached the main road.

Victor ignored him, flagging down the nearest car promising a ridiculous amount of money for a ride no longer than a couple of blocks. The driver stared at him like he was insane but had agreed like Victor knew he would.

People were just inherently selfish.

"What's gotten into you?" Yuri demanded as Victor shoved him inside the backseat of the car, "I can walk you idiot."

"The man at the restaurant," Victor said instead slamming the door behind him, "Was he the same man you saw the other day at practice?"

Yuri blinked at the question, and Victor's heart stop- dear Lord, no, not him, please- before he slowly shook his head and Victor remembered how to breathe again. He was just overreacting; he'd been out of Russia too long, and everything was okay.

At least he thought so until he glanced out the window catching sight of the man from the restaurant standing on the street corner, dark gaze following the car Victor had practically forced them both inside. Yuri had noticed too, frame going rigid even as Victor set a reassuring hand over the youth's.

"Victor?" Yuri asked, and Victor sucked in a deep breath as he shook his head.

"I don't know," he muttered thankful he only had to worry about one Yuri- not sure if he could've handled if both had been placed in such obvious danger- before he added, "but you shouldn't walk by yourself anymore."

Yuri scowled as he protested, "You're not my father Victor."

The car stopped, and Victor ushered Yuri out with one hand as he handed the man the remaining rubles he had on him. They stared up at him in bafflement, but Victor was too distracted to notice.

"I'm well aware of that fact Yuri," Victor promised, fingers closing around the boy's wrist as he jerked them both towards the rink, "and I'd rather you stop comparing me to such a useless excuse for a human being."

"He's not useless," Yuri defended just so he could pick a fight with him.

Victor wasn't really in the fighting mood. He moved them further inside, pulling out his phone to command Yuuri to hitch a ride and to not walk, before they were in the locker room. Yuri blinked up at him, probably waiting for some sort of explanation.

Victor wasn't really in the sharing mood at the moment.

"Get ready," Victor commanded gesturing towards the youth and his heartrate had finally leveled back out as he remembered to breathe, "I'll help you with some of your technique."

Yuri scowled even as he moved to obey and he demanded, "You know not all skaters look up to you right?"

Victor flashed him a smile as he teased lightheartedly, "You're the only one I can recall with that little defect. Seems you've always had your eyes set on more exotic skaters. Seems we're not as different as you'd like to think after all."

Yuri floundered, probably trying to figure out when Victor had pieced together that it had always been Yuuri and not him that Yuri admired. Not that Victor minded- Yuuri was an excellent skater and deserved his rightful attention. He'd just never thought sharing other's admiration would be so hard- especially not the moody kid currently before him.

Yuri hid his face yet again behind his hair as he muttered, "Stupid Victor. No idea what he's talking about. Just suddenly freaking out before I got to eat."

Now that most of the adrenaline had worn off Victor found himself feeling slightly embarrassed at the fact that he'd hulled them so quickly from the restaurant.

His phone beeped, indicating Yuuri's response.

Everything okay?

Victor stared at it for a long moment before back at Yuri as he replied: Haven't decided yet but it will be. Promise. And bring bagels.

Yuuri didn't text back which meant he was going to obey, and Victor felt his chest lighten considerably. The thing at the restaurant didn't mean anything. He'd been overreacting. That was all. He'd just have to keep telling himself that until he believed it himself.

"You ready Yura?" and this time the boy didn't protest at the nickname.

He just narrowed his eyes further- distrusting and confused- as he replied, "Sure."

And he proved to be an excellent distraction, the strange man completely out of Victor's mind by the time Yuuri showed up thirty minutes later with bottled water and a bag of bagels Yuri practically consumed by himself.