This work is the traduction of my fanfiction "La tradition du Grand Prix Final". English is not my first language, so they may be some errors. For that I apologize in advance, and hope you will still enjoy.

The Grand Prix Final was coming to an end. The competition was over, and the tension has eased little by little. Everyone had come back to their room to change, sleep, or even enjoy their success.

After he offered his congratulation to Yuuri for his silver medal, Phichit had gone with his coach Celestino. The young Thai was a little disappoint by his ranking, of course, but he knew that he had made his country and the ice skating world proud.

Chris was also a little bitter, but he hadn't parted from his smile. It was a good season that was ending, and he would always have another chance to do better. He had left the place under the applause of his fans, many of them still lingering in the halls of the Barcelona's stadium.

JJ appeared extremely relieved, even when he only got third place. After his anxiety attack and the difficulties, he had at finishing his program, one couldn't hope for a better ending. The eyes of his fiancé, Isabella, were still red from crying, but she was standing proudly by his side.

Otabek and Yuri quickly came together to discuss in peace after the awards ceremony. Beforehand, Otabek had exchanged some words with his coach to warn him, while Yuri had escaped from Yakov once more. The two friends had changed in a hurry before leaving the place with Otabek's bike. It was without doubt to change their mind after a high-end competition.

And contrarily to last year, Yuuri Katsuki wasn't locked up alone in a bathroom to cry. He had spent long moment with Victor by the ring. It was only after that a member of the cleaning staff had asked them to let him work that they did leave the stadium, hands intertwined and a smile on their face. They went back to their room while waiting for the banquet to begin.

A couple of hours later, the first guests were entering the great hall where the official banquet was happening. Soon, the room was full of professional athletes and their closest friends.

Winners of the day were getting congratulations on congratulations. Mila had end up second place in the solo women competition, and Sara third. Of course, Yuri Plizetsky was the center of attention: the youngest ice skater to win a gold medal, and it was all more impressive knowing that it was on his first time in the senior league. Many others didn't miss the chance to also congratulate Yuuri Katsuki, and to give their compliment to Victor. The announcement of his comeback wasn't public knowledge yet, but it wouldn't wait long. However, it was a news for another day.

Once the standard politeness and congratulations were out of the way, the true party began, in a more relax atmosphere. The first bottles of champagne were already getting empty.

Yakov and Lilia, who were making an appearance at the banquet, had prevented Yuri from drinking alcohol. It didn't stop him from mumbling angrily as soon as their back were turned, precising that in Russia, he would have been allowed to drink. Instead, he settled down on drinking from Otabek glass. The latter still drank a few sips every now and then, but it really was Yuri who was enjoying the champagne.

Yuuri, still mortified by the discovery of his drunken-self escapades from last year, was trying to limit his alcohol consumption. But Victor wasn't really helpful, and was encouraging him to loosen up and drink a little to relax. Some would have accused him of trying to assist to another pole dancing performance by his fiancé. Whatever the reason, the cheeks of the Japanese man were already getting redder.

But for the moment, Chris was the most excited. He had already take off a good part of his clothes, and was delivering salacious jokes on repeat. Half of the room had already suffered from his enthusiasm. One of his friend was trying to stop him, with little success.

Unfortunately, the inevitable happened. Chris ended up bumping into Yuri (on accident or on purpose). No broken glass, but in his inebriated state, Yuri took offense. Abandoning his conversation with Otabek, he violently turned to face Chris, and stared at him for a couple of seconds.

The Swiss may have been a little drunk, but he was still lucid, and didn't parted from his smile.

"Oh excuse me kitten, I didn't see you."

Yuri face immediately changed. Otabek felt the danger coming, and grabbed his arm to stop him. They didn't need an international conflict.

Yuri didn't break from the grasp, but he was already worked up.

"I'm not a kitten! I am the Ice Tiger of Russia!"

"Really? I thought it was the Russian Fairy." Chris mocked.

All the eyes in the room were brought to the two athletes. Some had retreated, fearing the worst, and knowing Yuri's coleric reputation. But others like JJ were happy to add fuel to Yuri's anger by laughing.

He wasn't the only one laughing, but Yuri heard and recognized hi. It didn't help Otabek silent attempt at calming his friend. He let out a resigned sigh when he understood that it would be impossible to stop Yuri now.

« Заткнись (Vos gueules) ! You're just jalous because I beat you!"

"Oh wait until next year kitten, and we will see who will be laughing."

"Yeah, we will see!" Yuri screamed.

The champagne he had drink was beginning to go to his head. Chris realised it soon enough.

"Oh and you can't stand your alcohol, that's so sweet! Who let you drink with the grown-up?"

"Victor is more grown-up than you! Well, older at least!"

Victor, who was witnessing the exchange with his arm around Yuuri, was indignant to be insulted.

"I'm not an old man!"

His cry was lost in the crowd.

Tension between the different ice skater was getting higher, and even if an accident seemed improbable, the exchange was one punch away from a fight. For a moment, silence was heavy. Phichit was still armed with his smartphone and filming the scene.

"Dozens upon dozens of beautiful and brilliant women come to give me support at every competition, giving me flowers love and kisses. Can you say the same?"

Yuri thought of the Yuri's Angels for a brief moment, before shaking his head.

"I don't need them!"

Chris looked at him with pity and compassion in his eyes. He was without a doubt going to add something, but JJ cut him.

"That's why you have no girlfriend!"

"I don't need one!"

"Or boyfriend »

« I don't need one either!"

"I know some people who will be disappointed…"

"I don't care!"

"STOP !"

All the guests' attention that was going back and forth between Yuri and JJ went to Yuuri. Victor had succeeded in his plan. The cheeks of the silver medallist were of a bright red, a tell-tale characteristic of a drunk person. His hair was a mess, and his suit a little undone. Yuuri went on, half slumped on his fiancé and a champagne's bottle in his hand.

"Why not solving this problem… by having a dance-off!"

Once again, the room was silent. It was Chris that broke it.

"I agree."

"Me too." Mila add, thinking of the previous year.

"What!?"

Yuri seemed wary.

A consensus passed across the room, made of nods and approbation in different intensity. Yuri was the only one that looked petrified, between shame and fright.

"Are you afraid Yuri?" Victor dropped.

It didn't take more to convince him, and without waiting the young prodigy began to take off his vest. Chris smiled, satisfied and ready to go.

"I'm in charge of the music!" announced Phichit.

At least there wasn't any pole that Chris could have want to use.

This dance-off's first battle didn't last long: as sensual as Chris dance was, he was nonetheless an incredible dancer. Yuri had a lot more trouble doing anything in his state. He could have try to dance ballet for better result, but the music didn't suit his need. For his defence, Yuri was still very energic and motivated.

At the end of the song, to gain his best friend honor back, because he had a glass of champagne too many, or for whatever reason, Otabek advanced in the middle of the circle that formed around the dancers. Surprise was written all over the face of spectators. Phichit recovered quickly, and set himself back in his role of dj.

The Kazakh was quite good, and a new round of applause followed the performance of the two athletes. Yuri was especially vocal in his encouragements, and was cheering on Otabek with great cries of "Davai!".

For the next song, forgotten was the skirmish that began the whole shouting match. Emil was particularly excited at the idea of a dance-off, and had convinced Michel to face him. Sara, watching her brother, also wanted to participate, and brought Mila with her. JJ refused to dance on anything that wasn't one of his own song, which was a little narcissistic one may say.

And then Yuuri wanted to participate. The veterans from last year banquet were mixed between horror and admiration.

He took his clothes off until he was only in his trousers and shirt, and grabbed Victor by his tie, bringing him close.

"Dance with me. »

« I was afraid you were never going to ask."

The look they exchanged was plain flirting. Many felt uncomfortable watching such an intimate scene. Yuri was livid.

But it was like always: Victor and Yuuri managed to do even better. Their dance-off rapidly changed to a sensual tango. The two lovers were dancing around the other, charming and predatory, completely ignoring the crowd. Their spins quickly became more complex, proving once again the harmony of their relationship, as much as their talent and physical capacities. It was hypnotic and embarrassing at the same time.

As the music was ending, Yuri hurried and moved forward to avoid more courtship displays from the lovers. Otabek joined in, and the next song began. They danced, at a respectable but comfortable distance, on an energic beat without fuss. It was fun, and Yuri couldn't help but smile, as did the Kazakh.

To say the truth, everyone had a smile on their face. They were happy, amused, sometimes still disappointed by the results announced some hours before, but all were ready to bounce back. Yuuri and Victor stayed in the room, encouraging the dancers, as their hand were still joined and their eyes full of promises.

It would be a shame if those dance-off became some sort of tradition.