A/N: This is a gift for Calloniel. This fanfic is also on AO3. Here on ffnet I'm publishing the t-rated version and on AO3 there's the explicit version. The only difference is that the last chapter of the fanfic is an explicit one, and it will be left out from the ffnet version. If you want to see the explicit one, then go to my AO3 account. My penname is the same. The number ID of the AO3 version is 8671060.

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Yuuri was seated between Viktor Nikiforov and Christophe Giacometti, gaze blank and unseeing as he was assaulted by the flashes of the mass of photographers in front of him.

"Yuuri Katsuki!" exclaimed one of the journalists, a woman that had been viciously pushing others backwards so she'd get better access to the skaters. "How does it feel to have beaten Nikiforov on your first try at the Grand Prix Finals?"

He stiffened up even more than he already was, wound up so tight it was a miracle the journalist didn't notice. He tried to avoid glancing at Viktor, who seemed rather interested in his answer.

Yuuri didn't quite know where to look. The flashes were making him dizzy and it didn't help that he'd been feeling sick since his victory.

It feels terrible, thought Yuuri. I just wanted to skate on the same ice as Viktor and be on his level. I never wanted to win. I just wanted to prove myself.

"It was… surprising," answered Yuuri. He scratched the back of his head, subtly leaning backwards to create more space between him and the horde of journalists. "I expected bronze, if I was lucky. Not… gold."

He could feel the persistent weight of the medal hanging from his neck. It felt heavy and oppressive, like his guilt.

How could victory make him feel so empty?

"You were the second best at the men's short program, but you dominated the free skating program," said another journalist. "What changed?"

Yuuri opened his mouth to answer, but another journalist interrupted him to address Viktor:

"Nikiforov! Does this loss mean you should retire?"

Viktor smiled, answering without even pausing to think, "No, of course not! A silver medal is not a loss. I'll just work harder when I'm up against Yuuri at the World Championships."

His English was good, with just a hint of a Russian accent. He spoke it much better than Yuuri, who still tended to fumble with his words.

Viktor turned and looked straight into Yuuri's eyes.

"I'll definitely beat you next time." And then he winked, lips quirked up into a small smile. He didn't even seem unhappy about his silver medal.

Instead, he was looking at Yuuri as though seeing him in an entirely new light.

-x-x-x-

Once he'd finished talking to the press, Yuuri immediately went to find a quiet spot so that he could take a look at the news. A lot of people tried to get the attention of the 'man who beat Viktor Nikiforov' but he ignored them in favour of bringing out his phone to look at what the news had to say.

Katsuki beats Nikiforov at Grand Prix Finals! proclaimed a headline.

Yuuri grimaced. The headline seemed unnecessarily insulting towards Viktor. It singled him out by mentioning his name but none of the other competitors'. Did the news care only for Viktor and not the other skaters? The single-minded focus on Viktor only (and now Yuuri too, since he'd beaten the man) might make some of the other competitors feel angered that their hard work was being ignored.

Funny, how Yuuri only noticed these things now.

Beneath the headline was a large picture of Yuuri in the air, midway through a jump. Underneath the picture was an results table:

Yuri KATSUKI 336.52

Viktor NIKIFOROV 335.76

Christophe GIACOMETTI 301.46

Jean Jacques LEROY 288.59

Cao BIN 261.83

Michele CRISPINO 258.67

Seeing Yuuri and Viktor's names so close together gave Yuuri a fierce feeling of accomplishment. His guilt had lessened somewhat when it had become evident that Viktor didn't care about losing the gold medal and just seemed even more competitive as a result.

The article itself, while mainly focused on Yuuri and Viktor, did talk about the other competitors a little. Yuuri's eyes scanned the text, interested.

His coach, Celestino, had forbidden him from watching his competitors skate out of fear that Yuuri would feel stressed and pressurized by comparing himself to the others. He could still remember Celestino's words:

"You become nervous too easily, Yuuri," the man had said, "so I'll take away what stresses you so that you can keep your focus!"

As a result, Yuuri hadn't been allowed to see his competitors skate or the results they'd received. And he had to admit, it had helped him.

So he read the article with keen eyes. The article commented on Michele Crispino, explaining that his incorrect Lutz take-off edge and his apparent nervosity were what had led to his position as last.

The article also mentioned that Christopher Giacometti got his best score yet, though he had made one glaring error midway through his program in his triple flip-double toe-double loop combination that had gotten quite a few points docked from his score.

He would have stayed like that longer, just reading what people were saying about his performance, if it weren't for the sudden hot breath against his ear.

"Yuuri~" was purred at him.

He jumped, startled beyond words, and whirled around.

"V-Viktor?!"

The man straightened up, raising his hand to give a carefree wave.

"Privyet! It's nice to meet you!"

Yuuri bowed and said, in the best English he could muster, "Hello. It's nice to meet you too."

Viktor smiled. "I've come to ask for a commemorative photo!"

Yuuri frowned, puzzled. "What do you mean?"

"Well it's the first time someone has beaten me to first place. That warrants a picture, doesn't it?"

"I guess so…" said Yuuri, baffled by Viktor's easy acceptance of his silver medal when he'd been collecting gold ones for years. He was acting like the antithesis of a sore loser.

Viktor threw an arm around Yuuri's shoulders and pulled him close, making Yuuri tense up. The Russian then held his phone out for a selfie and said:

"Usmivka!"

Yuuri gave an uncomfortable smile while Viktor beamed at the camera.

"Wonderful!" Viktor exclaimed. He turned to Yuuri. "I invited the other skaters to skip the banquet and eat at a restaurant I know this evening. Will you come too?"

Dining with his childhood hero? Yuuri felt his mouth dry up.

"I have to go to the banquet," he answered.

Viktor deflated. "Ah, so you dislike me that much…" He turned his back to Yuuri, emitting a gloomy aura.

"No no! I don't! I like you very much!" exclaimed Yuuri, waving his hands frantically to try and make up for his misstep.

Viktor turned to face Yuuri once more, his smile back as though it had never gone away. "Great, I knew you'd come around!"

He caught hold of Yuuri's arm and dragged him away.

Did Viktor just manipulate me into coming with him? wondered Yuuri as he was pulled along.

-x-x-x-

The name of the restaurant was in Cyrillic, making it entirely impossible for Yuuri to read. The two skaters were greeted inside by a waiter who, upon hearing Viktor explain they were expected, gestured them towards one of the booths in the back of the restaurant.

The place had a nice atmosphere. There were visible wooden beams set in the walls and most of the furniture was in dark colours, giving the place a rustic and welcoming feel.

"Hello~" Viktor called out as soon as he saw the other skaters of the Sochi Grand Prix Finals sitting at a table, pulling Yuuri along as he went to join them. "Everything all right?"

Christophe Giacometti and Cao Bin were sitting next to one another, and had been looking quite bored of the long wait. As soon as Viktor had called out to them, they'd perked up, and Christophe leaned forward, both elbows on the table as he placed his head on his interlaced fingers.

"Oh," began Christophe Giacometti, his voice low and his eyes hooded over his dilated pupils, "now that you're here, everything's just fine."

Christophe, like Viktor, was rather tall. His shoulders were broad and his frame imposing. He wasn't an extremely big boned man by any means, but considering most male skaters were on the slender side he seemed more impressive by comparison. His hair was set in an undercut, with the longer hair on top of his head having been dyed blond while the shorter hair was a dark brown.

At that moment, his eyes were set squarely on Viktor, a predatory expression on his face.

"The others couldn't come," said Cao Bin. "They were expected somewhere else."

Cao Bin was the Chinese competitor that had come in fifth place. Yuuri had heard rumours that the man was planning on retiring once the season was over.

"Four people out of six is enough," declared Chris as his gaze switched to Yuuri. His expression grew considering. "You know, out of everyone… I expected to be the one to beat Viktor one day."

"Ah," said Yuuri, scratching the back of his head. It felt exceedingly strange to know he'd beaten a man that had been winning medals since Yuuri was a kid. "I guess this evening was a bit of a surprise for everyone, then."

Viktor sat down in the booth on the side closest to the wall and patted the seat next to him. With slight trepidation, Yuuri sat down to Viktor's right.

"Tonight I'll make you all discover Russian cooking!" declared Viktor, picking his menu up with a flourish.

Yuuri opened up his own menu but was dismayed by the fact that it was entirely in Russian. There wasn't even an English translation for tourists.

"I can't read this," said Cao Bin, frowning at his menu.

"No problem!" said Viktor brightly. "I'll order some of the best dishes and we can all share. Does anyone have any allergies?"

"I can't tolerate seafood," said Chris, leaning back to lounge in his seat. "Anything else is fine."

"I don't like spinach," said Cao Bin.

Viktor turned to Yuuri, but Yuuri didn't have any allergies and shook his head.

"Okay!" exclaimed Viktor. "I was thinking of having you try some pelmeni, but here they make them with fish so that won't work. I'll just get us some varenniki, which are dumplings that they stuff with meat and cheese. And then we'll get some stroganoff, and pirog, and—"

He continued enumerating various dishes, gesturing enthusiastically as he explained. Yuuri's eyes kept growing wider and wider as he listened. It was a surprise to see this version of Viktor. The magazine interviews and the TV coverings always made him seem more serious than this cheerful version Yuuri had in front of him. It was… nice, to get to know Viktor like this.

When the waiter arrived, Viktor engaged in rapid Russian, enumerating all the dishes that he wanted his fellow skaters to try. Yuuri was quite sure there'd be more food than the four of them could handle, but he left Viktor to it.

"Russia has some really great dishes that I'm sure you'll all like!" said Viktor cheerfully. "and you should really take the time to visit the sights. There are some beautiful monuments around, and there are castles and really old churches and there are so many places you can go sightseeing."

"It sounds great," said Yuuri.

Viktor turned to him with a smile. "I could take you there someday, if you want."

Yuuri ducked his head, unwilling to show how much the proposition had affected him. "T-that would be nice."

Chris snorted.

"What is it?" Viktor asked the Swiss man.

Waving his hand, Chris said, "Oh, nothing, just thought of something funny."

Yuuri sunk lower into his seat. He felt as embarrassed as if they'd all seen his bedroom back in Japan, with its walls covered in posters of Viktor.

"Say, Yuuri," began Viktor, "what would you say is the secret to your success?"

Yuuri blinked, taken off guard. "Well, my coach focused on my endurance so I could perform harder jumps in the second part of my routine, and he asked some good skaters he knew to help me out as a favour."

"My coach made me focus much more on technique," said Cao Bin, "but I still fell today because I didn't have the strength to do all my jumps right. Maybe if I'd done more endurance training it would've been better."

"Endurance is important, but the main thing you need is feeling," stated Viktor, leaning forward. "I've seen great skaters perform perfectly but without feeling, without passion, it still felt dead to me."

"Right," agreed Cao Bin. "Passion is vital you can have all the talent in the world, but without passion, you'll never reach the top."

Chris laughed. "Seung-gil Lee is the perfect example of that. He looks so dead when he's performing."

They continued chatting pleasantly until their drinks arrived, at which point Chris whistled.

"Wow, Viktor, bringing out the fancy stuff," said the man, eyeing the bottles. "Who're you trying to impress?"

Viktor held one of the bottles up, showing it off proudly. "I can't let you come to Russia without even trying some of our alcohol!"

"That's vodka," said Yuuri, looking at the label on the bottle.

"It's really good vodka," insisted Viktor, pressing closer to Yuuri.

Yuuri tried to move away, but he was already on the end of his seat and might fall off the side if he moved any further.

"Besides," said Chris, plucking the bottle from Viktor's hand, "you don't have to drink it if you don't want to."

The food arrived relatively fast, barely ten minutes after the drinks had been brought to their table. The waiter set several aromatic dishes in the middle of their table, as well as empty plates in front of each person.

They dived in, taking spoonfuls of various dishes and setting them on their plates. Yuuri ended up favouring the stroganoff, while Chris seemed rather taken with his meat pie and Cao Bin ate steamed vegetables with visible contentment.

Viktor ate a bit of everything, though seemed quite invested in ensuring Yuuri tried everything, mostly by spontaneously putting more food on Yuuri's plate.

"Try this!" he'd say as he served Yuuri some vinegret, or he'd announce that "This is really good!" as he gave Yuuri a small amount of salad composed of peas, potato, meat and other ingredients, covered in white sauce.

The behaviour only increased as the night went on and Viktor drank more alcohol. The man seemed to have a fairly good tolerance, though it made no difference. He drank like a fish, and it wasn't long before he began losing his inhibitions.

"Why is it so warm in here?" Viktor complained, pawing at Yuuri's shoulder. "We need to get them to turn the radiator down." His speech was definitively approaching the 'slurring' stade.

Yuuri resisted the urge to lean into the touch of his childhood idol, and focused on what Chris and Cao Bin were talking about in an effort to distract himself.

"I was part of a marathon in China, the Yellow River one?" Cao Bin was saying.

Chris shrugged. "Haven't heard of it."

Viktor started tugging at his top, grumbling.

"Well there's a really long river in China that often freezes solid, and I got to skate on it. It was really nice, though some of the cracks in the ice made me think I was going to fall through any moment."

Finally, Viktor managed to pull off his top. "Free!" he crowed, throwing the article of clothing away.

It flew over the table and smacked into Chris' face.

Yuuri's face was as red as a tomato. His idol was an exhibitionist. It was unbelievable. The magazines had always made him sound so much more dignified.

"Viktor," said Chris as he peeled the top off his face, revealing an expression of mild annoyance, "I don't mind seeing you topless, but I'd rather you didn't throw things at me." He set it down next to him, not without pausing to take a long appreciative look at Viktor first.

"I think you've had enough to drink," said Yuuri, taking Viktor's half-full glass away from him and putting it on the other end of the table, near his own glass.

"Nooo…" whined the man, leaning closer to Yuuri so he could reach for his glass.

Tensing up, Yuuri pushed Viktor back in his place, trying to keep the skin contact at a minimum. It didn't help that he could feel more of Viktor than he'd ever expected to.

Instead of insisting, Viktor returned to his seat and started taking his shoes off. One shoe was thrown out of the booth, ending up on the floor, while the other one was caught by Yuuri just before it hit his face.

When Viktor began tugging at his jeans, Yuuri hurriedly looked away, busying himself by examining Viktor's shoe as if it was the most fascinating thing in the universe.

Then he frowned in thought as the label registered.

"Viktor?" he asked, staring at the snake logo on the shoes.

Mercifully, that distracted Viktor enough for him to stop drunkenly undressing himself and instead turn to Yuuri.

Yuuri continued: "Is this a Pios shoe?"

Viktor wrapped one arm around Yuuri and used the other hand to snatch his shoe from Yuuri's grasp. Yuuri held very still, trying to ignore the proximity, as Viktor held the shoe up to the light, looking at it as though he didn't recognize it. And then, suddenly, Viktor's alcohol-addled brain cleared up enough for him to nod emphatically.

"Yes!" Viktor exclaimed, letting go of Yuuri to clasp the shoe with both hands and brandish it dramatically as though he'd made an important discovery. "I have an endorsement deal with Pios. I wear all their shoes - their trainers and their skates. I mostly do adverts for the skates, though." He'd said it all slowly, pronouncing the words as perfectly as possible. He wasn't completely ignorant of his state of drunkenness, and from what Yuuri could guess he was trying to seem more sober than he truly was.

"I see," said Yuuri, trying to behave as though he didn't have a copy of each picture of Viktor advertising said shoes plastered on the walls of his room back home.

"Do you have an endorsement deal?" Viktor asked, looking straight into Yuuri's eyes.

Uncomfortable under the scrutiny, Yuuri simply shook his head.

"Yuuri's still new," said Chris as he tore into a chunk of meat. He chewed, looking at Yuuri critically, and then swallowed. "You look good, so it shouldn't be hard to get yourself a contract. Now that you won gold, I'd expect some brands to notice you. You don't have a lot of reputation yet because you're young, but that'll come."

"I don't know if I want an endorsement deal," said Yuuri. "It feels kind of cheap to use my fame to make more money with advertisements." His eyes widened as he realized what he'd said and he turned to Viktor with a panicked expression. "Not that there's anything wrong with you endorsing Pios shoes, or anything!"

Viktor waved the issue away with a good-natured smile. "Ja ponimaju. Some people see it like that. But Yuuri, endorsing a product doesn't make you a shill. When you're an athlete, you have to find an alternate way of getting money and an endorsement deal if the best way."

Cao Bin nodded. "You can't expect to skate forever. If you get into an accident, or you stop performing as well as you used to, then the money will start running out. A lot of athletes take endorsement deals because when they get too old to compete on the same level as they used to, advertising can really help. Once you're past your thirties, your physical abilities go down, so you need another way of making money."

"I see," said Yuuri, contemplating the possibility.

"So," said Viktor, leaning against Yuuri and reminding the young man of just how little clothing Viktor had on. He was only wearing trousers. "Would you be interested in getting an endorsement deal?" He was still slurring a little, though he seemed to have forgotten to try and get his glass back.

Yuuri tried leaning away, but the only thing it did was make Viktor wrap his arms around him to keep him in place.

Chris snickered.

"Sure," said Yuuri, desperate to get Viktor off him.

"Fantastic!" exclaimed Viktor, holding him even tighter. "You should sign up with Pios! I'll talk to them to get you signed up with them, that way we could do an advert together." He grasped Yuuri's chin to force the young man to look him in the eyes and said, voice lowered and face uncomfortably close, "Your first time could be with me."

Yuuri froze, brain completely blank and unable to tell him how to deal with the intent behind that last sentence. Was it the alcohol, or was Viktor just naturally a flirt? The implications behind Viktor's words were too much for Yuuri, but thankfully Chris interrupted:

"As nice as this is, we've got company." Chris leaned over the table to wave his hand in front of Viktor's face. "Viktor! Your boytoy is coming."

Yuuri looked up and saw Yuri Plisetsky, who'd competed in the Grand Prix Juniors this year, stomping towards their table with a look of fury on his face.

"Viktor!" Yuri shouted, startling several diners.

Viktor smiled innocently at the boy as he came closer. "Yuri, what a nice surprise!"

"Surprise? Yeah right." Yuri scoffed. "You were meant to be back by now! You promised you'd go over the recordings of my skating routine with me to help me improve!"

Viktor held his hand up in a calming gesture. "It's fine, Yuri, we'll just do it later."

"Later?!" Yuri asked incredulously. "You made a promise, so you'll keep it. Come back to the hotel, now!"

"Jeesh, kid," said Chris, watching Yuri Plisetsky with amusement. "Chill out,will you?"

"Chill out?" repeated Yuri, a vein pulsing near his temple. "Chill out?! You people are the ones who've been keeping Viktor busy when he was supposed to—" He stopped talking when he finally noticed Yuuri's presence.

Yuuri blinked, surprised, as all the anger seemed to drain out of Yuri. The boy even had a hint of red appearing on his cheeks.

"You," muttered Yuri Plisetsky, staring fixedly at Yuuri. "You're the skater who won first place at the Grand Prix finals."

Yuuri was tense and uncomfortable under the stare of the boy who'd been nicknamed 'the Russian punk' by the public. "Yes, that's me," he replied.

"I want you to skate with me," demanded Yuri. "Teach me."

"Awww…" said Viktor, leaning drunkenly against Yuuri. "I thought you wanted me to teach you."

Yuri sneered. "Yeah, but then you lost."

"Ahhh…" Viktor sighed, not bothered in the least. "One day you'll realize victory isn't everything."

"Easy for you to say," muttered Cao Bin. "You collect gold medals like candy."

Christophe looked at the scowling Yuri asked, "Are you a fan Yuuri's?" A teasing smile joined his words.

Yuri's expression twisted in horror and he practically jumped away from Yuuri. "No!" he protested loudly. "I'm not!"

"You're really loud about it for someone who's not a fan," grumbled Cao Bin, stabbing one of his vegetables in irritation.

"What did you say?!" roared Yuri.

Attracted by all the noise, one of the waiters arrived.

"I'm sorry sir," the man said in English, thinking Yuri was a foreigner because he hadn't spoken any Russian, "but you are being bothering our other clients. We're going to have to ask you to leave."

Yuri didn't move. He just kept glaring at Viktor.

Finally, Viktor gave in with a sigh. "I'll go, just give me a minute."

Viktor put on one of his shoes while Yuuri stood up and walked to the side to give Viktor the space to get out. Chris threw the top next to him at Viktor.

"Don't go outside without that on or you'll die of cold," said Chris.

Viktor stumbled out of the booth, topless and lacking one shoe, and Yuuri could hear some of the other dinners titter.

"It's too warm," complained Viktor, blinking dazedly.

He was too sluggish to do much, so Yuuri bent over to pick up Viktor's coat with its beautiful fur trims and opened it behind Viktor.

"Put your arms in here," said Yuuri.

It took a little while, but Viktor managed to put the coat on while Yuri was tapping his foot against the floor, glaring murderously at the poor waiter standing next to him. Yuuri hadn't managed to make Viktor put his top on, so he let the man hold onto it while he went to retrieve the other Pios shoe.

"Sit down," he told Viktor when he grabbed hold of the shoe.

Viktor tilted to the side, disoriented, and so with a sigh Yuuri pushed the drunk man down until he was sitting in what had been Yuuri's seat at the table. He took hold of the man's foot and put the shoe on. Then he went down on his knees and started lacing up the trainers.

"You know…" murmured Viktor, staring down at Yuuri. "I can't remember the last time someone put my shoes on for me."

Yuuri finished tying the knot and then did the other shoe, which Viktor had only jammed onto his foot without bothering to lace it up.

"There, all done," said Yuuri. He stood back up and pulled Viktor up too.

"It was nice to eat with you," said Viktor, standing much too close to Yuuri.

With a tight smile, Yuuri patted Viktor on the side of the arm and gently pushed him towards a glowering Yuri Plisetsky.

"Thanks," said Yuuri. "You too."

Both Yuri and Viktor headed towards the door, though after taking a few steps Viktor turned around to say one last thing:

"I'll ask Pios to make a contract with you, Yuuri!"

Yuuri just waved goodbye and smiled politely, not thinking much of a drunken man's parting words. Barely minutes later, he forgot all about the promise of an endorsement deal.

Viktor didn't.