Standing behind the barrier, Russian team jacket draped over his own variation of the Eros costume, Yuri Plisetsky watched the love of his life skate his affections before the audience and the world with a smile on his face. He didn't even care that everyone could see it. Yuuri made him too happy to trifle with such things.

His own exhibition piece had been well received at nationals and worlds this year. It seemed fitting that at the final gala of the season, Eros would be the first performance, and Agape the final.

Viktor was retiring for good this season. He stood next to Yuri with tears in his eyes as he watched Yuuri skate. Of course, Yuuri's Agape basically always made him cry, but this time the tears fell harder and faster as he bid men's singles skating goodbye. His gala skate this year was practically an elegy, one the audience participated in with silent tears culminating in raucous applause.

The three of them had dominated the podium again, with Yuri defying the critics by consistently hitting the podium at every competition, though not receiving any golds. He hadn't quite kicked the shit out of nature like he hoped, but he'd at least landed a solid blow to the shin.

Viktor was undoubtedly conflicted about ending his career with back-to-back silver medals. Yuuri had beaten him at the GPF and Worlds on the way to getting those five golds he promised - his coaching fee, naturally - and of course being both coach and skater was taxing. Even so he'd managed gold at most of his other matchups, only occasionally falling behind Yuuri. In the end, he considered Yuuri's legacy part of his own, and was thrilled Yuuri could finally live up to his potential.

Yuri was jealous of Viktor, in a way. Now that he was retired, he could be with Yuuri at all of his events. Being separated by their schedules was hard on all of them, but even so, when the time zones allowed it, they would fall asleep talking to each other on their webcams, and it was almost as good as sleeping together for real. It was pretty much impossible for Yuri to sleep without Viktor's quiet snoring now, anyway.

The music ended. Yuri relished the ending pose, with Yuuri gazing up into the sky like an angel. He was an angel, truly. Yuuri went right to them as he left the rink, and they became a large mass of tears and laughter as they celebrated the end of the season. Viktor's final one.

The final press conference of the season was highly amusing. The two Yuris were almost completely ignored as the press demanded to know what Viktor's next move was.

"Well, of course, I'm going to continue coaching. I'd like for Yuuri to move his home rink back to Japan, and we could work from there for the future. I've got my eye on another potential student as well," he said, playing coy, and Yuri knew that he was being referred to. "I've also considered ice dancing, if coaching allows me enough spare time."

"Mister Nikiforov, would you-"

"I appreciate the attention, everyone, but I've answered everything I can. Talk to my husband about his gold medal, please," Viktor teased. Yuri rolled his eyes.

"Yuuri Katsuki, do you have any comment on Mr. Nikiforov's statments?"

Not exactly changing the topic, stupid reporters. "Uh...I don't want to make any announcements about my home rink or my future just yet. I still have a few golds to go before my retirement, of course," he joked, and the press corps responded with a wave of polite laughter. "I've really come to love my rink mates in St. Petersburg, and having the input of coach Yakov and Lilia Baronovskya has been invaluable. As much as I love my home, it's a difficult decision to leave that behind."

Yuri sensed that was about him too, in Yuuri's roundabout way. The idiots were hinting they would stay in St. Petersburg if he asked, putting off Viktor's plan to retire to his beloved second home in Hasetsu. Perhaps even his true home, now. Yuuri would have to be punished after this.

"Yuri Plisetsky, your theme for this year was Progress. How did your physical changes affect your performance?"

"I'm not sitting in the middle, so obviously they affected me a lot or I'd have both of them beat," he boasted. There was another wave of laughter, though he wasn't joking. "I worked my a - well, I worked hard, anyway, to get to where I am despite the changes. Once they're done I'm getting more gold medals than Nikiforov."

Back in their hotel room later, Yuri gave both of them a swift kick. "What's all that St. Petersburg shit? Aren't you desperate to retire to Hasetsu and live off hot springs and katsudon for the rest of your life?"

Viktor laughed and collapsed onto the bed, rubbing his shin. "I can wait! Unless you want me to coach you, little tiger. You can come with us."

In truth, Yuri loved the idea, but he couldn't abandon Lilia and Yakov. Not so suddenly, at the very least. There was also his grandpa to consider, who might not have many years left. "Once katsudon retires, sure."

Yuuri smiled and joined Viktor on the bed, hauling Yuri down into his lap. Yuuri was noticeably taller than him now, though still just shy of Viktor's height. That didn't stop Yuuri from holding him like he was still a tiny kitten, though. "Sounds like a plan. We can both coach you. No katsudon until you bring us a gold medal."

How dare he. "No katsudon, no Hasetsu," Yuri huffed. The two of them just laughed and pressed him into a Yuri sandwich. "Okay, okay! Quit it already!"

They did not. "You mean it, then? You'll tell Yakov you're leaving when I retire, kitten?" Yuuri asked, running a hand through Yuri's soft flaxen hair.

Yuri nodded into Yuuri's shoulder. If need be, he'd haul his grandpa down to Hasetsu as well. The beaches and hot springs would do him some good in his last days. "You promise you aren't staying in St. Petersburg just for my sake, right? I can tell the old man to shove it if so. I don't want you sacrificing for me."

"We're not in any rush, little tiger. Hasetsu will be there for us no matter what," Viktor said, ruffling his hair.

"Besides, I really do like having Lilia's input on my choreography," Yuuri said. "I also get to rub it in Minako's face that I see her idol every day, which is fun."

"You just like gossiping about me with Mila," Yuri grumbled.

"Also fun," Yuuri admitted with a sly smile. When Yuri scowled, he dove in and kissed it away.

Ugh. Now he wanted to say something stupid...in front of Viktor, even. "Hey Katsudon," he muttered. Yuuri's bright eyes softened as he smiled in response. "Tell me I'm pretty."

To his credit, Viktor didn't laugh at him or even gush about how cute it was. The respect was another unexpected gesture in a long line of them, going back to Viktor's sincere respect for his feelings last year, or even as far back as Barcelona.

Yuuri smiled. He loved teasing out this little ritual of theirs now. "You know I love you for so much more than that, kitten."

"Yeah, I do. Which is why I don't ask about that. I just like hearing you say I'm pretty," Yuuri growled.

"Yes, you are very, very pretty," Yuuri said with an amused and loving smile.

Yuri purred and buried his face into his katsudon's warm chest once again. Yuuri loved him, and Yuuri said he was pretty. Nothing else mattered.