It's always the quiet ones

Yuuri is no stranger to catcalling. As an athlete, he had a hot body (even if he did get a little tubby occasionally) complete with a perfectly perky arse that you could bounce a coin off. Combined with his shy and avoidant demeanour, he was like a magnet for sleazebags with wandering hands.

Sleazebags who would get a nasty surprise.

Yuuri delivered one final kick into the groaning man's stomach, and tugged harshly on the bottom of his jacket to straighten it before turning gracefully to leave the alley he'd been dragged into. Glancing up, he froze as his cinnamon brown eyes locked onto the shocked blue-green orbs of the last person he wanted to see him acting in such a way.

Yuri Plisetski had grown slightly in the two years since they had first met at the Grand Prix, but in many ways he was still very much the same boy who'd kicked the stall door and shouted at Yuuri to retire. Admittedly, they were now something resembling friends, but the tiny blond was not above using something like this against Yuuri if he thought he could get away with it.

Damn it.

Grabbing Yuuri's arm and dragging him out of the alley, swiftly guiding them both away from the scene, Yuri remained silent, stubbornly refusing to let go of Yuuri's arm. Reaching the apartment the Japanese man shared with Viktor, the Russian Fairy all but shoved the stumbling raven inside. Thankfully, Viktor was at the rink still, getting in some extra work on the new routine he was choreographing.

"What the hell was that?" Yuri demanded harshly, slamming the door shut behind him.

"Er, what was what?" Yuuri blinked owlishly behind his glasses, trying his best to look bewildered. Judging by the expression brewing on Yuri's face, it wasn't working so well.

"Don't play stupid, pig! I saw you get dragged into an alley by that guy, and by the time I got there to rescue your fat arse you were already kicking him unconscious! That is nothing like the Yuuri I know!"

Yuuri dropped the act and sighed, his face losing the innocent edge it usually held. Sitting on the couch, he gestured for Yuri to take a seat at the other end, and waiting until the seventeen year old grudgingly complied.

"Who, what, and how I am is not an act, Yuri."

The use of his actual name, instead of that ridiculous nickname Mari had lumped him with had Yuri focusing closely, and holding his temper for a change.

"When I was younger, my sister noticed I'd get targeted a lot. I'm shy, and very timid as you well know, and I found myself often catcalled, groped, and there were even a few attempted assaults. Fortunately for me my sister managed to interrupt and rescue me from all of them, but we both knew that one day my luck would run out and she'd be too late. So, she taught me how to fight, and when that wasn't enough, she had some of her friends teach me as well."

Yuuri removed his glasses and rubbed a hand over his face.

"I don't seek them out, but if someone has a go, I tend to… cut loose a little. You're fairly free with your fists yourself, you know how good it can feel to just vent everything inside on a deserving piece of filth; I know you do." His gaze settled warmly on the scowling teen. "Though I do appreciate the attempt to rescue me; thank you for that."

Yuri growled and crossed his arms.

"Whatever. Does Viktor know that you're some sort of street brawling vigilante?"

Yuuri smiled sheepishly.

"I don't think Viktor's even aware I know how to throw a punch without breaking my fist."

"Why didn't you ever tell us?" The blond glared.

"Nobody ever asked? I mean, in Hasetsu everyone already knew so nobody would have mentioned it, and when I lived in Detroit I really only had to worry about it after working at the club, and I was usually alone then. It's not the sort of thing that you just drop into conversation randomly," he drew himself up, pretending to introduce himself to someone. "Hi, I'm Katsuki Yuuri, International Figure Skater and husband of fellow skater, Viktor Nikiforov. I like long walks on the beach, poodles, and kicking the shit out of dickheads with wandering hands. My favourite food is Katsudon and the blood of my enemies."

Yuri snorted, smirking despite himself.

"You know, I think that's the first time I've heard you swear."

Yuuri blushed.

"Yes, well," there was a long awkward pause, and the tiny blond made no effort to make it easier for the fidgeting man.

"You're going to blackmail me with this, aren't you."

The blonde's smirk widened.