Yuuri winced as he hit the ice hard.

He probably shouldn't have tried to attempt a quad Salchow in this state, with his mind racing. He hadn't even built up enough speed for it and the take-off was so listlessly executed, he knew he would fall before he'd completed the first rotation. Oh well, he thought, rubbing his stinging elbow as he got back up and took off skating again. It had just been a spontaneous action anyway, a silly idea that had popped into his head amidst the turmoil wracking his brain.

He didn't know why he was so worried now, just one week from the Cup of China. He'd been training with Victor constantly each day and the man had notallowed him to go easy. The fresh bruises on his feet were proof of that. He had even improved a bit, able to land the frustrating quad Salchow on three out of every five attempts. And, while that ratio had remained stubbornly consistent, no matter how many times he tried to budge it, it was still better than his previous one-in-five record.

But, the tiny voice in his head reminded him, your record in practice means nothing if you can't land it in competition.

Yuuri sighed, dragging his toe pick in the ice to slow down a bit. Unlike Yuuri's mind before a competition, Ice Castle Hasetsu was peaceful at night. Not a single sound could be heard at a time like this, except for the scrape of his blades on the ice beneath him as he skated aimlessly. It was almost like having an audience caught up in his impromptu performance, unable to say a word. The air was so still that, that Yuuri sometimes felt guilty even breathing, allowing his ragged breath to rip through the silence. That was just how he liked it, though. Somehow, when Yuuri's mind was racing and filled with thoughts that made him more anxious with each passing second, the rink was more of a solace than his bed. The rink was his cure for insomnia, and he was eternally grateful for Yuuko giving him the keys to Ice Castle Hasetsu shortly after he'd returned home.

"For whenever you feel like it," she'd said, giving him a knowing, caring smile.

Well, he'd felt like it two hours ago, once he'd gotten tired of tossing and turning. He'd thrown on his coat without even thinking, tiptoed out of the house, and ran all the way to the rink. As soon as he'd thrown on his skates and stepped onto the ice, he began going through a lazier version of his Eros step sequences. He didn't care that, as alert as his mind was, his body felt sluggish. He didn't care that he felt like he had weights attached to his feet as he glided, stepped, and spun. He felt that focussing on skating his routine would help clear his head and make him forget, forget. forget. Which had then led him to making that stupid jump.

If skating his anxiety away wasn't going to help, then confronting it would be his best bet. Yuuri always hated that, since he never knew how deep he'd fall once he looked into his personal well of despair. But he didn't want his anxiety to fester until he drowned in his self-doubt and really messed up during the Cup of China. Because then he'd be letting everyone down. He'd be letting himself down. He'd be letting Victor down.

Victor.

Yuuri looked down at his feet as he thought about his coach or, especially in the past month or so, more-than-a-coach. Yuuri was pretty sure Victor loved him as more than just a close friend too, a feeling that was fully reciprocated. These past few months had done wonders on their relationship. Living with Victor, eating the same food as Victor, taking Makkachin on walks with Victor, soaking in the onsen with Victor. It had only brought the two closer together and Yuuri did not regret a moment of it. Gone were the days of seeing the silver haired skater as 'Victor, the Legend' from his childhood or 'Victor, the breaker of world records' or 'Victor, the unreachable genius'. Yuuri was proud to say that, in these months, he had truly come to see Victor for who he was; 'Victor, the forgetful', 'Victor, the adorable', 'Victor, the dog-loving, katsudon-loving, onsen-loving, Yuuri-loving dork'. And Yuuri loved every inch of him back.

That was why he was anxious. That was why he'd jumped out of bed at four o'clock, before the first rays of morning, to come to Ice Castle. He no longer had words for how much he wanted to hold onto the amazing man who'd turned his life upside down. As much as he embraced the role of the beautiful woman seducing the playboy, he was afraid of how his heart might explode into irreparable shards if the playboy in question abandoned him. The thought alone made him want to cry. These past months had been like a dream. But he had to brace himself for the possibility that this dream would crash apart and he'd wake up to reality.

Victor might go back to Russia soon.

Yuuri knew it was a very plausible possibility, if he didn't make the podium in China, or in Russia. He had to show the world just how much he cared for Victor. He had to show the world that Victor leaving the skating world to coach a nobody like him was not a mistake. He had to make the world proud of him, for Victor's sake. He couldn't mess this up, because now, his mistakes were no longer just his own. Yuuri imagined failing to reach the Grand Prix Finals, or reaching the Finals only to come dead last again. He imagined Yurio sneering at his failure, telling Victor that he should have listened to him and come back to Russia. He imagined Celestino patting him on the back in reassurance, but shaking his head in disappointment behind his back. He imagined Victor having to deal with his own coach, Yakov, hanging his head in disappointment. He imagined Victor having to explain to the press that he took a season off skating for an experiment gone awry. He imagined the other skaters whispering behind their backs, talking about how it had all been for naught.

And it would all be his fault.

It was then, as Yuuri came to a halt in the middle of the rink, that he noticed the ice below his feet and the faint streaks of sunlight striping it. Had he really been skating for that long? Yuuri looked up towards the windows and watched the beginnings of the morning sunlight peek through. Dust motes rode the shy beams of light, swirling down towards him and Yuuri took the moment to just breathe.

Yuuri turned back toward the edge of the rink. His late-night skating had left him tired, all feelings of insomnia replaced with steely determination, and he figured if he got back to bed now, he'd get an hour or two of sleep before practice that day. He couldn't expect Victor to let him off because he was tired. He had a competition to prepare for. Less than a week away now…

He froze, though, when he saw the figure leaning against the barrier, watching him. The semi-darkness kept the figure in shadow, and Yuuri's lack of glasses also rendered the figure a blurry blob, but the swish of silver hair was unmistakable. Yuuri's heart filled with an indescribable warmth at the sight, both with affection and slight embarrassment.

"You were watching me?" Yuuri asked, skating towards the side of the rink. Victor's smile came into view as Yuuri got closer to the edge.

"I knew you'd be here when I heard footsteps echoing through the house," Victor replied, smile softening as Yuuri skates up next to him. He was holding Yuuri's glasses and, before Yuuri could ask for them, Victor reached out and put the glasses on his face, being careful not to poke him in the eye, "There."

Yuuri's eyes widened a little at the gesture, at the feeling of Victor's fingers grazing his cheeks as he drops his hands, before blinking rapidly as his world went from fuzzy to sharp. He briefly wondered why Victor would be up early enough to hear him leave, but then shrugged it off. He probably hadn't been as quiet as he thought he'd been.

"How long have you been watching me?"

"About an hour or so. Watching you skate can be…therapeutic, in a way," Victor tapped his chin, "What were you thinking about while you were out there?"

"Hmm?" Yuuri wiped the ice from his skates in a few quick motions before looking back up at Victor. The smile had been replaced with a concerned frown.

"You only come out here when you've gone too far into your own mind, right?" Victor asked, "You know you can tell me what's on your mind if…"

Victor trailed away, scanning Yuuri's face as if he'd be able to read the answer there, and Yuuri did his best to school his features. He couldn't tell Victor what had been plaguing him. Not because he thought Victor would think he was weak, but because he knew the opposite was 100% true. Victor saw him as strong and had told him as much all those months ago on the beach. He took Yuuri's lack of confidence and responded by trying to make him feel more confident in himself. Victor had worked so hard to make him a better skater and a better person and Yuuri was beyond grateful for everything Victor had done in the name of making him as strong as he was perceived to be.

So he couldn't tell Victor what was on his mind. Doing so would reveal to Victor that he hadn't quite succeeded. That his efforts were going to waste. Telling Victor how worried he was about him leaving would force Victor to reassure him by saying he'd never leave his side. But then that would be making a promise on a very uncertain future. Yuuri knew being forced to break a promise like that would tear Victor apart just as much as it would tear him apart, and Yuuri couldn't bear to see that.

So Yuuri turned his head away and said, "Nothing," as he took off his skates. As the seconds ticked by, he became afraid to look at Victor and meet his gaze. He could feel the man's eyes on him, boring into the side of his head as he untied his skates and pulled them off. He moved in slow motion as the awkward silence stretched on, hating every bit of it, yet not wanting it to end for fear of Victor's next words.

However, when Yuuri couldn't drag out taking off his skates anymore and finally looked up, Victor didn't look disappointed, or sad, and his eyes didn't hold the probing intensity which Yuuri had been expecting. Victor, in fact, seemed to be staring through Yuuri, lost in thought himself. His gaze seemed questioning still, but his blue eyes also held a certain gleam that made Yuuri's cheeks warm and his understanding smile didn't have an ounce of pity in it. He looked very much like a man who had come across the most beautiful thing in the world and was absolutely fine with gazing at it for all eternity. Thousands of women, and some men, around the world wished Victor Nikiforov would look at them like that, but Yuuri knew it was a look Victor only reserved for him, and it filled him with enough joy to push his worries away momentarily.

When Yuuri's gaze met his, Victor let out a light chuckle, "What am I going to do with you?"

Yuuri smiled and blushed, pulling on his coat to distract himself. He was still getting used to these utterly romantic moments with Victor.

"Wh-what are you doing?" he muttered.

"Just admiring the view." Victor said bluntly, the love-struck expression still on his face.

"Yuuri had to laugh at that and rolled his eyes, "What time is it?"

"A little past 6 o'clock." Victor said, offering his arm to Yuuri as they walked out the main doors of Ice Castle Hasetsu. His adorable smile was back, "Come. Let's get some breakfast."

"Sure." Yuuri nodded, taking his arm.

Victor might go back to Russia soon…so I'll enjoy these moments while they last.

There you all go; a little angst-fic I wrote at 3am. Hope you all enjoyed!