Unintentionally Yours

articas_ursula (AO3)

artica's-ursula (FFN)

Beta reader: TheDisreputableDog

Chapter 10: The Thirty-Sixth Hour

Not so long ago now:

"This is Victor Nikiforov! Please leave me a message. Thank you!"

Unknown number:

"Victor, it's me-um, Nicolas. Nick. We exchanged phone numbers at the mall? Call me back."

End of message.

Delete.

Read texts (1)

Unknown number:

It's Aleksander... You haven't returned my calls and I had a really great time last week and I think you did too. I really felt a connection.

Delete.

"This is Victor Nikiforov! Please leave me a message. Thank you!"

Unknown number:

"Victor, I don't know what I did wrong. I thought things went well last weekend and… It's Vlad. You have my number…"

End of message.

Delete.

Read texts (1)

Unknown number:

I guess you're done, since you're not answering me anymore. You could have at least told me that rather than ignore me, jerk! -Matvei

Delete.

"Are you hungry at all?"

Victor paused, looking up from where he'd been sprawled across the bed, deleting old messages on his phone that had ended up there somewhere between the end of the Grand Prix when Yuuri left without speaking to him and yesterday. Victor was only human after all, and being rejected like that had stung. It wasn't the mature thing, trying to soothe his ego with other people, but it was what he had done. Yakov was holding a plated grilled sandwich and wearing an awkward frown as he stood in the guest room doorway.

This room had been Victor's in his youth. Many ruts had been spent here, though the dents and slashes that the walls had suffered over the years had been perfectly patched and painted. It was fairly common in Russia for maturing Alphas to be sent off to specialized hotels which were all but bomb-proof in order to spare their guardians' homes from the damage of a rut, but Yakov had always flatly refused this.

Things like that reminded Victor that things could have been a lot worse for him. It made him remember his first visit to the family practice doctor instead of a pediatrician. Victor had been fifteen at the time and had scared the breath out of his guardian by waking him suddenly at three in the morning to furiously demand Yakov finish cutting his long silver hair. Yakov, who had never had children and had never encountered such a tantrum before, stared in horror at the hacked-off half of Victor's hair before yanking away the scissors Victor had done it with and frog-marching him to the local clinic a few hours later. Instead of a psychotic break, as Yakov had suspected, it turned out Victor's Alpha mind was simply adjusting itself in preparation for its imminent initial rut.

That news had been almost more frightening.

"He will grow into a weak Alpha if you keep coddling him like that," the militant-looking Beta physician had reprimanded Yakov during the discussion. "He should be in a rut hotel. Especially the first time."

"Thank you for that opinion," Yakov had replied coldly. The three information pamphlets in his hand had crumpled as his fist closed tightly. "But he is a child. Children should stay at home."

Yakov was still cautious with him even now, more than ten years later.

Victor sniffed the air. "A little hungry, yes," he admitted in answer to Yakov's question, throwing his legs over the side of the bed and sitting up as Yakov placed the food on his nightstand. "Can I leave soon?"

Scowling, Yakov thrust his left arm forward, flashing the watch on it under Victor's nose. "Vitya, stop it! Three more hours!"

"My flight isn't for six hours," Victor bargained. "It's not like I'll be going anywhere anyway if you let me go."

"I wasn't born yesterday. I know there's a flight to Nagasaki Airport that leaves in two hours, so you're not leaving my sight until I'm sure you've missed it."

Outmaneuvered, Victor turned to scowl into Makkachin's fluffy brown curls. The poodle happy thumped his tail against the pillows he'd burrowed into. "You know, Alphas travel internationally all the time before the thirty-six hours are up. It's not as though there's a way to check for the exact timing."

The hand that had been withdrawn after showing him the time was once more extending, but this time to flick Victor hard on the crown of his head. "Don't push your luck with me!" Yakov snapped. "This idea is already the worst. You don't know anything about this Omega personally but you're traveling thousands of kilometers to see him?"

"I know him," Victor insisted, narrowing his sky-bright eyes.

"You and every other Alpha think that after reading a few of his interviews!"

To underscore this point, Yakov reached over to a purposefully nondescript cardboard box and knocked it off the stack of items moved to Victor's old room for safekeeping until after his rut.

Most of these things hadn't been hidden because of Victor's rut in and of itself-though this had been a particularly violent one. For the most part what Victor had squirreled away these past few weeks were items that could cause some embarrassment should the post-rut cleaning company encounter them.

A few seasons ago someone on the hired cleaning crew had found the empty bottle of Omega pheromones Victor had used that time and had sold the story to several international tabloids as well as put the bottle up online for auction. Yakov had sued the individual responsible as well as the cleaning service for violation of the confidentiality agreement and theft. He'd switched to a different company, but the damage had been done. Victor, still young and dramatic as ever, had informed Yakov (from behind his heavily barricaded bedroom door) that he was on strike and never coming out again.

Since the door opened outward rather than inward like Victor had thought it did, the strike had been swiftly ended by Yakov's master house key.

"If you act like you have something to be embarrassed about, then that's how people will treat you!" Yakov had yelled in Victor's stunned face, prodding his chest with a forefinger. "Hold your head up! Your confidence should be based on what you think of yourself, and that's all!"

It had been a good lesson from Yakov, and it had taught Victor to be very careful about moving anything potentially embarrassing from his apartment to Yakov's house in the week or two before his rut. The box Yakov pointedly knocked over contained such items.

"Hey!" Victor protested, jumping to his feet as magazines, several featuring Yuuri Katsuki's face, spilled across the floor.

"If all you're going on is what's in this box, you're going to have a big problem when you get to Japan. This isn't like giving your phone number to one of your fans, Victor. I know you've been doing that lately."

The magazine that landed on top of all the others wasn't that old. The cover was dedicated to Katsuki, his gorgeous copper-honeycomb eyes set in thick lashes staring out from the page. Accidental releases from their scent glands were not uncommon for teenagers; embarrassing, but not uncommon. Yuuri Katsuki had become an overnight Omega superstar when, quite by accident, a puff of his pheromones stole into the air at the Japan Open a few years ago. The scent was said to have been intoxicating; perfect in a way that no one had ever known possible.

It had happened at the kiss and cry with dozens of reporters circling around, so the next morning the international ice skating community had woken up to all eyes on them. While the focus had begun on Katsuki, it had rippled out to bring the sport in general into the public eye. Ice skating had trended on every social media platform and interest in the sport had skyrocketed. Suddenly, sports news channels that had scoffed at figure skaters as frilly and denied them as athletes were covering the sport by popular demand. Talk shows featured costume designers that specialized in ice skating outfits. Major brands scrambled to find a popular skater to sponsor, running commercials featuring their products presented by an ice skater. From Los Angeles to Shanghai, children wanted ice skates for their birthday. Basketball, football, soccer, hockey-figure skating was right there alongside them.

It had been the advent of popularized ice skating.

The attention on Katsuki remained strong still, picking up speed as more and more people noticed how very pretty he was. People wanted to know what his scent was like in person and events with his participation sold out easily. This wasn't universally liked, however, since it was known that some attendees merely showed up to gawk at him.

Victor didn't count that against Yuuri, who did nothing to encourage the attention.

Far from coasting on his looks and Omega status, Victor found that he was dazzlingly clever and had a degree in International Dynamics Etiquette and Culture Studies from Kyushu University in Fukuoka, which ranked in the top five universities in all of Japan. He had a poodle that looked startlingly like Makkachin-though Victor never did catch the dog's name-and his favorite food was a dish called katsudon.

And all of that he knew from the magazines scattered across the floor.

Victor had broken his habit of lying to Yakov a long time ago, and so didn't attempt it now. "He asked me to be his coach."

"Coach!?" Yakov looked like he couldn't believe what he was hearing. "What do you know about coaching?"

"I've watched you do it enough."

Yakov buried his face in his hands, slowly dragging them down his eyes, cheeks, and chin. "What possessed you to make such an offer?"

"I didn't. Like I said, Yuuri is the one that asked me."

"Do you jump off a bridge every time Plisetsky asks you to!?"

"I don't think even cats have enough lives for that."

"I'm not kidding you, Victor! You have no idea what you're doing! Did you even tell him you're coming?"

"I'm going forward with this."

There was a long silence as the two stared at each other. Yakov was responsible for him in many ways, but they weren't exactly sire and pup. They weren't connected by a familial mark. Yakov could order Victor to do something, but Victor was under no internal compulsion to do it.

At last, Yakov grunted. "You'll do whatever you want in the end and we both know it. Fine."

As his mentor turned away, Victor felt vaguely unsettled. Though they weren't connected by a bond, it still didn't please him to be on the outs with Yakov. He had to do what he thought was right though.

"Hey, Yakov." The Beta turned. "Aren't you going to help clean these up since you spilled them?"

"I'm not touching anything from that box without gloves!"

Despite his clear misgivings, Yakov kept his word, depositing both Victor and Makkachin at the departure terminal of Pulkovo Airport three hours later.

"I can't believe I'm leaving that dog in your care," Yakov said gruffly, scratching Makkachin behind the ears while attempting to look business-like about it. "You and that poodle are about as responsible as each other."

Crooning, Victor suddenly picked up the large dog, laughing as his face was licked. "He's so smart, isn't he?"

"That dog is so stupid that it keeps me up at night."

Victor feigned insult. Their ongoing joke was for Victor to insist on his poodle's brilliance while Yakov maintained skepticism about that. Still, Victor knew Yakov would miss them both very much. It had been awhile since the older man had been apart from them for long. Victor didn't know how long he'd be away, but he would do what it took to court Yuuri properly.

Placing his dog on the ground once more, he extended the handle of his luggage. "I guess it's time to go, huh?"

Yakov didn't look agreeable to that. "You can still change your mind and be a reasonable person."

Victor only smiled. "I know how worried you are. I think you're used to worrying about me, so probably nothing I say will fix that. I can't stop thinking about him though. I have to see Yuuri or I'll never know if he likes me too."

The Beta just shook his head in exasperation but allowed it when Victor leaned forward to give him a brisk parting hug and kiss on the cheek. He was half a head shorter than Victor and wow, when had that happened? Yakov had always seemed so tall and all-knowing. It was strange to think he didn't have all the answers Victor needed anymore.

"See you, Yakov."

Finally, the older man gave up on asking him to stay.

Yakov sighed. "Until then."

For all of Cao Bin's arrogance, Yuri was delighted to see firsthand that he'd made one moderately significant error in his short skate. Yuri could tell it would put him behind at least JJ, who led the program, and Chris, who held second. Though he probably wouldn't come behind Järvinen, a Finnish skater that Yuri didn't know, who had badly fumbled early on in his performance and never really recovered.

Yuri was looking forward to smirking at his rival and had considered with relish the most perfectly poisonous expression to wear. But how to present it? Should he pretend not to see him right away only to notice him over his shoulder? Or should he stare at Cao Bin the entire time to really rub it in that Yuri had seen him teeter on the transition to his step-sequence?

These were important questions.

"You know, I just thought about how you have something of Yuuri's that you're wearing for good luck. Don't you want something of mine too?"

Thrown by the comment, Yuri completely dropped his plans in favor of turning crab shell red.

"H-Huh?"

Victor patted his right pocket with one hand, running the other carelessly through his iconic silver hair. His gold mating ring that bound him to Yuuri for life glimmered in the light.

"Oh! This fell off my costume this morning!" Victor withdrew his hand from his coat to produce a dazzling clear stone. It was almost the size of Yuri's smallest fingernail and looked as perfect as a diamond.

"It's a cubic zirconia stone. Pretty, right?"

"Yeah, but…" he frowned. "You don't want to keep it?"

Victor shook his head. "No, I think you're meant to have it. And you should have something of mine. It's important."

Hesitantly, Yuri slowly reached out to take the small jewel between his forefinger and thumb from the center of Victor's palm. It was beautifully faceted and sparkled in the light. He'd never held something so mesmerizing before.

Victor clapped, grinning airily. "Okay! Now go skate!"

Yuri blinked, disoriented, before suddenly recalling his scheme to make Cao Bin feel like a loser. He whirled around immediately, eyes fixating on the ice rink's exit, but was disappointed to learn that Cao Bin had passed him while Victor held his attention.

Glowering back at Victor, Yuri wasn't buying the innocence he was faking. "You did that on purpose!" he accused.

"So grouchy," Victor complained to Yuuri as an aside before adding cheerily: "Do you have your identification on you still? Hand it to me so you don't drop it."

"Drink this," Yuuri tacked on, shoving a bottle of water under his nose with a straw poking out.

Grumbing, Yuri felt around for his identification card where he'd tucked it into his costume while sipping at the straw. He'd stuck his phone there too so he tugged both items out and deposited them in Victor's open palm. "Don't go looking through my phone!"

"How bored are you planning to make me in the next few minutes?"

"Yuri Plisetsky is next!" a member of the arena's staff called in accented English, consulting her earpiece.

"Alright, here we are again, Yurio." Victor wrapped an arm around his shoulders. "Here's my advice, for now and all the other times you'll complete. Don't go to fast, don't go too slow. You know your rhythm, so follow it."

"Who's really coaching this kid anyway?" Yakov's impatient voice broke in. Yuri turned in time to see Yakov arrive, pushing Victor aside. His black felt hat was firmly in place as was his ever-present scowl. The relief Yuri felt at seeing him was instant. The old man had been his coach for so many years now that he didn't know if he could stand to be at a performance without him.

"Stop getting in my way," Yakov ordered Victor. "Go sit down." He paused. "Hello Yuuri," he added much more nicely.

Yuuri smiled sweetly. "It's so nice to see you Yakov. Please take care of Yurio."

Yuri, thinking that would be the end of it, turned to focus fully on Yakov for his traditional last-minute wisdom. His heart rate was up; he could feel it. A familiar jump from his stomach to his throat made him swallow hard against it. This competition wasn't especially dear to him, but it felt as though he carried twice his usual pressure to succeed. Not only was a large audience watching, but Yuri's new rival would be looking for mistakes to criticize. Additionally, this was the first time he would skate professionally in front of his dam and sort-of sire, Yuuri and Victor.

Would they be proud of him?

Would he embarrass them?

Suddenly, delicate arms wrapped around him. The soothing scent of his dam soaked him in a balmy warmth as Yuuri's soft dark hair pressed against his face while leaning in to tell him: "Good luck, Yurio."

Yuri tensed in shock before melting against the Omega's lithe form. With his dam's familiar scent, he felt his heart soothe and slow. His clarity came back to him, making things sharp and real.

Victor flicked at his familial mark as he walked away, winking. "Have fun!"

Yuuri pulled back after a moment, pausing to squeeze Yuri's hands in his with a beaming smile. Then he left to fall into step with Victor, who had waited for him. Yuri watched the Alpha-Omega pair move just out of hearing range a short ways away to give Yakov space to speak with him.

Yuri's anxiety spiked again.

"I can't fuck this up, Yakov."

His coach waved the dark comment away. "You always do well, Yuri. But don't let yourself get caught up with who's watching! You've trained hard. Trust in that."

Yuri didn't respond, but he was definitely breathing quicker. He cared more about what would happen next than he did at his first Grand Prix last year. Victor's stone indented into his palm as he clenched his fist around it. Exhaling in a long, harsh sigh, Yuri slipped it into the tight spandex of his costume just under his neckline.

"Yuri Plisetsky, please enter now," the same staffer told him.

Yakov nodded firmly, removing his hat to crumple it between his hands as Yuri began removing his blade guards. "It doesn't matter who's watching-remember. It's only you out there. Focus."

Entering the ice, Yuri took his time with long strokes of his skates to get a feel for the surface. Fifth slot wasn't bad-there were seven entries in the men's single skate division today. He would have hated going first like JJ had, or last like Yuuri's friend Phichit would. The overhead announcer was speaking quick French and somewhere in another room the international sports stations were translating each sentence into a variety of languages.

Yuri cut to a stop at the center of the rink, allowing the ice to help him focus. He posed confidently in preparation to begin, taking a deep, slow breath.

This is what he'd trained for.

Yuri glanced casually back the way he'd come.

Right here, he would debut his newest routine and everyone, especially Cao Bin, would be floored by it. Yuri could see part of his head over at the kiss and cry and just knew that he, Yuri, was about to prove how much better than that guy he was.

Alright, time to focus.

But in that moment of dragging his gaze back to look directly ahead of him, Yuri's sight snagged.

Victor wasn't even watching!

Yuri's outrage was horribly derailing.

Suddenly, the first notes of his song spilled into the air from the surrounding speakers. Yuri was stupidly surprised to hear it and panic bolted through him as he started to move, though several beats late.

Was Victor watching now?

Yuri couldn't tell as the first thirty seconds of his routine blew by. He could see Katsudon's face turned towards him, but wasn't able to focus long enough to determine any particular expression.

There it was: the one minute mark.

His more complex footwork was coming up and Yuri needed to know that Victor was watching for it. It was the same footwork that Yuri had practiced for hours on end back in St. Petersburg with Katsudon's warm encouragements and Victor's more critical commentary.

Yuri looked.

Yes, Victor was watching.

The cost of checking for proof was… terrible.

Yuri felt the edge of his right toepick catch the blade of his left skate before his balance skewed sharply forward. He was already picking himself up as smoothly as possible from the ice where he'd caught himself with his right hand before it had really registered that he'd fallen at all.

Fallen? I fell?

Pushing through, the young Alpha moved swiftly through the final twenty seconds of jumps and turns in a daze.

Yuri hadn't fallen in competition since he was twelve years old! He couldn't believe it. This couldn't be happening.

It was only when he stopped moving and the shock of actually falling during a program settled that Yuri noticed his right wrist throbbing. The applause made him blink, and then, it was over.

I fell.

Making his way back to exit the ice was dreadful. Each stroke of his skate brought him closer to what he knew would be consolation words that were for losers and probably the smug face of his rival. Yuri wasn't sure which would be less tolerable.

Sure enough, Victor and Yuuri were both waiting for him. They didn't say anything as he paused to pop on his hard plastic blade guards. As he did, he caught Cao Bin's face in his peripheral vision. The other Alpha was being stared down like a prisoner by his dam and sire, and Yuri knew that was the only thing keeping the asshole from throwing a triumphant smirk his way.

"There's nothing you can say to make me feel better," Yuri spoke first, shrugging into his Team Russia skate jacket. His heart was still rattling around in his chest. He began to head in the direction of kiss and cry and was unsurprised when Victor and Yuuri followed. "I fell. I fucked up."

Victor slung a muscular arm around his shoulders, tossing his sterling hair. "Ah the fatalism of youth."

"You would think so, ancient as you are!" Yuri shrugged away from Victor's touch, stopping to face him. "You weren't even watching most of it!"

Victor frowned. "What? Of course I was."

"I looked over at the beginning and you weren't watching!" Yuri insisted, slamming a foot down angrily. "I missed my staring cue because I was busy looking at you-!"

"Hey." It was said neither in a louder tone than the rest of the conversation had been conducted nor was it with any particular inflection, but Yuri quickly shut his mouth as Victor spoke, the wind sucked from his sails. His sire didn't continue immediately, pausing to force Yuri's gaze to meet his by pushing his chin up with two fingers. His flashy sky eyes were impossible to meet for long, but the younger Alpha did his best.

"The first thing is, when bad things happen, you don't try to blame everyone else, Yurio. Did you hear that?"

"...Yeah," Yuri muttered irritably when it became clear an answer was expected.

"Yeah. The second thing is that if you act as though you have something to be embarrassed about, people will treat you like you do." Yuri crossed his arms automatically, gaze veering off towards anywhere else. It flicked back to Victor when the older Alpha snapped his fingers impatiently.

Victor's expression was so serious.

"When you go for your scoring, you hold your head up, right? I know how hard the footwork for the step sequence on the second half was and you did it perfectly, Yurio."

Yuri cleared his throat against the pressure that was building up in it. He still felt like a loser, but contrary to what he'd said earlier, Victor's words had in fact made him feel better.

Someone calling his name made all three of them look around. Yakov, who had given them space to speak, was hovering slightly off to the side. It was time to leave for the kiss and cry.

"Alright, go with Yakov." Victor placed two fingers under Yuri's chin and lifted it by a few degrees. "Head up, right?"

Yuri nodded, not trusting himself to speak but maintaining the posture.

"Drink some of this, please." Yuuri, who had been weirdly quiet during the discussion but for a few small noises of agreement, offered him the same water with a straw in it as he had earlier. Yuri took an obliging sip, feeling the tightness at his throat soothe.

"Thanks," he muttered, absently rubbing his wrist. He turned the Yakov, nodded, and the two of them departed.

Usually when Yuri approached the kiss and cry station, he felt cocky. He was an excellent skater and had grown used to being the one to beat at competitions. He felt awkward about it today, knowing he certainly wasn't going to rank first. Even so, he remembered Victor's words and kept his head held high as Yakov preceded him into the kiss and cry area. He sat down next to his coach as they waited for his results, trying to picture how he usually looked while he awaited scores and doing his best to mimic that. Yuri felt weirdly aware of the fact that there was a camera trained on him right now, broadcasting his facial expressions across the stadium as well as on multiple sports channels streaming internationally. His new Alpha senses were starting to pick up things like that-things he hadn't noticed before that he suddenly was now.

"Yuri Plisetsky," the overhead voice rang out, and then the leaderboard appeared. Only five names were up at the moment, since Yuri himself had been fifth.

In first place was JJ, which Yuri privately expected of his new… friend.

Chris had snagged second, and Yuri couldn't help but wonder very briefly how that must feel. Chris had come in just after JJ so many times that the last Grand Prix might have been the first occasion in which Chris's scores had overpowered him.

The third spot… The third spot was held by Cao Bin, who had narrowly bested Yuri to come out with bronze.

The experience of enduring the crowd's cheers rubbed him in a weird way too. He didn't need their pity applause. He was a star!

"-so I'm off to see to Mila. You'll be fine now, right?"

Realizing Yakov was talking to him, Yuri made a vague sound of agreement before waving the man off and slouching away. He rubbed his wrist. He was giving himself a headache, ricocheting between self-pity and confidence like this. Still, Victor commented positively on his composure when he arrived back at the coaches' seating, so that was worth something.

"We'll go change into our costumes," Victor told him, pausing for dramatic effect. "We drew the last slot. Can you believe our bad luck?"

"Hm."

Yuri had a hard time believing that luck had anything to do with it. Enough though each slot was purportedly assigned by chance, Yuri couldn't imagine anything worse than being the one to follow the "it couple" Victor Nikiforov and Yuuri Katsuki. The two of them going last was the only fair thing to do to avoid handicapping any other pair.

Yuuri reached over to trace his hand briefly over Yuri's blond hair. It didn't even occur to Yuri to dodge it. "I know how hard it is to fall in competition." Yuri blinked, suddenly recalling that even perfect Yuuri Katsuki had faced down the shame of a public spill.

Yuuri continued. "And I'm so impressed by how you're handling yourself right now. Getting a perfect score is great, but learning that your world isn't over when you fall is even more valuable. Still, I won't downplay how bad you must be feeling right now. It's okay to be upset by things not going how you wanted them to."

Pursing his lips, Yuri ducked his head, hesitantly touching his forehead against Yuuri's chest. "Thanks," he muttered into his Team Japan skate jacket.

There was a slight pause-surprise, likely-before a larger hand ruffled his hair.

"Hey!" Yuri snipped, ducking away from under Yuuri's chin with an indignant scowl.

"You'll stay out of trouble while we change, right?" Victor grinned.

Yuri rolled his eyes. "I'm not five!"

"Oh? I always forget that. See you!"

"We'll see you soon, Yurio."

Yuri watched them go, grimacing at the sudden twinge in his right wrist where he'd been absentmindedly rubbing it. The stress of his experience had distracted him, but looking down now, he finally noticed his wrist starting to swell. The joint felt warmer to the touch than the surrounding skin, come to think of it, but Yuri didn't know if that meant anything.

Fuck, did he sprain it? Break it!?

It didn't hurt terribly but his first impulse anyway was to catch up with Yuuri and Victor. He could play up the injury for awhile, get some attention out of it, then go back to trying to trip Cao Bin up every time the other skater passed by. Yuri wasn't stupid though and, on second thought, knew that Yuuri wouldn't let him skate tomorrow if he knew about the injury.

"Hey, Yurio!"

Hastily, Yuri shoved his hands into his jacket pockets, grimacing at his wrist throbbed in protest. He turned slightly to find Chris coming towards him, loosely holding a hodgepodge of flowers at his side, thrown to him by his fans.

"Did they tell you to watch me again?" Yuri asked doubtfully.

"Haha! There aren't enough small countries to pay me with for that. You're the worst!" Despite this statement, he clapped Yuri on the shoulder gamely. "So! You fell, right?"

It was like being slapped: sudden, stinging, and leaving Yuri with a taste for returning the favor.

"So, you lost to JJ again, right?" Yuri returned immediately, unconsciously drawing his hands out once again to gesture rudely. "So that's basically every time you've gone against him. Should you bother performing at a competition knowing he's there?"

Chris made a face at him. "When are they going to ground you? You could use it."

"When you legally have to stay fifty feet away from me at all times!"

Chris swooned at him, tossing his larger frame into the blond. "But I want you to come to the wishing fire I'm throwing after all-"

Yuri hissed in pain, jerking away.

"What's wrong?" Chris immediately stopped playing around, backing off and looking uncharacteristically serious. He gave Yuri a quick once-over and noticed right away that he was guarding his right hand. "Sorry! Did I get you?"

"No." Yuri paused before reluctantly adding: "I… fell on it."

Chris cursed in surprise. "Really? I didn't think you landed on it so hard. It's not bad though, right? Since Yuuri is willing to leave you alone, that means it's okay?"

There was an awkward silence before Chris finally realized that neither Yuuri nor Victor had been told. He declared his findings to Yuri, adding: "And if you don't tell them right away, I'll sit on you until you do."

"No! They'll make me withdraw from the competition tomorrow! You're sworn to secrecy!"

Chris made a sound of incredulity. "I don't remember being sworn into anything. This is a bad idea, Yurio. What if it's broken?"

"It's not!"

"I like that you have a medical license on top of all the skating you do."

"It isn't bad," Yuri insisted. "Look!"

Yuri extended his right arm, intending to flex his wrist to prove it. The swelling had gotten a bit worse even in just the last few minutes though and the throbbing was starting to really get to him. In the end, Chris just stared at him while he wriggled his fingers.

"We might have to amputate it," said Chris contemplatively.

"Fuck off!"

"Look, at least take this." From his Team Switzerland skate jacket pocket, Chris produced a small over-the-counter medication bottle. "It's just an anti inflammatory and pain reliever."

"This better not actually be something illegal that will get me banned during drug tests."

Chris laughed at him, shaking a few pills into his hand. "Are there assassins just hanging around where you live? Because you're very paranoid about everything."

Accepting them with his left hand, he swallowed two tablets dry as Chris began to agonize over the situation.

"Come on, Yurio, you have to tell them! That at least needs to be iced, and probably x-rayed."

"No!"

"I'll drag you," Chris threatened.

"I'll yell!"

"Oh, but you know I love it when you make noise."

Yuri shrieked in disgust, jumping away. Okay, clearly this guy was going to tell his "parents" one way or another. Yuri knew things would be worse for him if they found out from someone else.

And honestly, the pain in his wrist was really bothering him.

Scowling, Yuri avoided Chris's stare-down by pretending to watch the ice. A girl he didn't know was just starting her performance.

He had to skate tomorrow. He'd already screwed up his total score after today, but Victor had told him to keep his head up. Yuri couldn't quit now.

Yuri clenched his teeth around the words: "I'll tell them. After they perform. That's my final offer!"

From his peripheral vision, he saw Chris raise his hands in surrender. "Okay, okay! I'll bring you an ice pack if you swear you'll stay right here."

Yuri agreed and Chris vanished off to a side hallway.

Left to his own devices, Yuri tried not to mess with his aching wrist. It must have been Mila's turn to skate next because when he looked around he saw her speaking in low tones with Yakov and looking fidgety.

The redhead had changed into a vibrant hunter-green costume with shimmering fairy makeup that did nothing to convince Yuri that this woman was anything other than an evil witch-hag. Mila's demon-claws were coated in their usual varnish-probably dark this time to hide the bloodstains of her enemies caked beneath them.

While he might call her a witch and a hag, really the other Alpha was… tolerable. Yuri decided she would be his friend too. That would mean he had two friends total, which was impressive since he'd only started this 'friend' business about two hours ago.

The overhead voice made a short announcement with Mila's full name and the staffer ushered her forward onto the ice. As she removed her skate guards, Yuri cleared his throat.

"Do your best out there!" he yelled from his position just outside of casual earshot, clapping twice.

Mila paused, glancing up at him with a flash of surprise. She grinned at him, waved, and stepped onto the ice with a strong stride that brought her to the center of the rink with easy grace.

In practice, Mila's performance had included an ambitious set of triple to double to single jumps. Yuri knew she'd had trouble maintaining momentum enough to complete the whole sequence and leaned forward intently to watch his new friend.

Weirdly, instead of cameras flashing in Mila's direction, a lot of them were pointed towards the coaches' seating area now. Pretty much where Yuri was.

Looking around in slight alarm and half-expecting that he'd done something to accidentally warrant the attention, Yuri straightened upon noticing what had stirred the action.

Yuuri and Victor had arrived.