"Yuuri~ My little piggy, I miss you!!"

"Victor it hasn't even been a month!"

"I know, but I still do!!" Yuuri flashed a smile at the computer screen, watching as the small picture mirroring him in the corner copied. Victor, who's face made up 90 percent of said screen flashed one back.

"It really is too bad I can't come to your qualifier." Yuuri rest his head against his palm as he felt a yawn build up in the back of his throat. He tried to hold it in but failed as it squeaked out.

"Yuuri, you look tired. Sleep. We'll talk tomorrow." Yes we sure will. "What did I tell you about staying up too late?"

"I know, I'm sorry Vitya. It's just this is the only time we get to talk thanks to the time difference. I mean, you just finished practice and I wanted to give you time to eat and relax, I know you have a photo shoot later and then you have the competition tomorrow and..."

"Yuuuuuri...sleep." Victor cut him up, putting on his concerned coach face. "Now." It's not like Yuuri didn't want to sleep: in fact that sounded like a dream to his aching eyes right now. But he couldn't. Not right now...still, there was no complaining when Victor had his concerned coach face on. But...what was he going to do, reach his arm through the computer screen and force him to sleep? He knew that if Victor found out what was currently occupying his head, he would be very against it, so that was kept in. Let's see how well I can lie...

"Fine..." He let out his most believable yawn, rubbing his eyes. "I'll go to bed."

"Good." Victor's smile returned. "Sleep well my love."

"Good night Vitya~" As if it were a routine, which, at this point, it was, both of them pressed their lips to their matching golden rings simultaneously. Though scientifically it would be impossible, whenever they did this, they could feel each other's connection, no matter how far away they were. This was their tradition, their little secret. Nobody else knew about it. Smiling, Yuuri gave Victor one last wave before shutting the laptop and laying back on his bed. Yes, that last yawn had been completely fake, but not all of them were. The truth was that the man was exhausted BEYOND BELIEF. His limbs ached like they had never ached before and his eyelids begged to close and stay closed. His mind was jumbled, and it had been a miracle he had been able to complete full sentences with Victor. Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to sit up and look around the room, before finally letting his eyes settle on the suitcase sitting near the doorway.

"I still have an hour left...it wouldn't hurt to be early, would it?"

His heart was suddenly leaping in his chest faster than his brain was working as he swung his legs over the edge of his bed and stood up. He walked over to the mirror hanging on the wall and tried in vain to tame the monstrosity that had become his hair. Combing his finger through one particularly tangled lock, he allowed his mind to wander once more. How would Victor react? Would he be mad? He wouldn't be mad...would he?   As he was succeeding in pulling his fingers out of the black strands of hair, his phone buzzed in his pocket. Absentmindedly he slipped his hand in and pulled it up, squinting as the bright screen illuminated the room.

"Huh, it's from Yurio." He muttered out loud, reading the text that followed.

"Yo, pork cutlet bowl. You're at the airport right? You didn't get distracted at home did you?"

"What is he talking about? My flight doesn't leave for another three hours." Brows furrowing, he typed his response and sent it through. Three dots appeared on the screen before a bubble of text came through.

"IDIOT. Check the time. If you miss this plane I swear to god..."  Heart dropping down to his pelvis, Yuuri swiped down from the home screen of his phone. 3:54.

His flight left in twenty minutes. The color drained from Yuuri's face as he registered what he was seeing. "God I'm so screwed." Nearly dropping his phone in the process, Yuuri scrambled out of his room, grabbing the suitcase handle and flying down the hallway of the resort. He nearly ran smack into his sister as he flew out the door.

"Yuuri!! Why are you still here??'

"I DON'T KNOWWW..." The crisp mid-winter wind chilled him to the bone as he barreled down the sidewalk towards the taxi stop. He shivered violently already, his mind racing as to why he would possibly be this cold. His eyes scanned the streets frantically. "Shit I don't see any cabs... oh I am so screwed I am so screwed I am so..."

"Get in." The sudden roar of an engine next to him almost caused his guts to jump out of his skin. He turned to see the family van pull up next to him, the window rolled down to reveal his sister at the wheel. "Unless you want to miss the flight." Yuuri couldn't help but smile as he climbed into the passenger side of the van, holding his suitcase in his lap. His cheeks warmed at the air that blasted from the vents, and he couldn't help but forget all about his dilemma for just a quick second.

That all changed as fast as Victor's mood swings when he heard the wheels screech and felt the van take off at the speed of Chris's organs as (GOD I AM SO SORRY)  Yuuri grasped onto his clothing as his surroundings turned into blurs of color and lighting.

"JEEZ HOW FAST ARE YOU GOING??"

"Fast enough to get you to the airport on time." Mari whooped as she rolled down her window and stuck her arm out. Immediately Yuuri figured out why he had been so cold: he had left his jacket at home on his bed. All he had on now was a white long sleeved shirt with blue lines and black pants. Most definitely not adequate clothing for the temperature it was currently outside. And it's gonna be worse in Russia.

"Yo, we're almost there." Yuuri snapped up from his nearly-asleep position and looked out the window at the passing airport signs. That was...inhumanly fast..... Deciding it'd be best not to ask just how fast his sister had driven, his gaze turned back to look up at the night sky out the front windshield.

"I'll be there...soon..."

*Lazy time skip brought to you by Chris coming on the ice and JJ kissing it afterwards because that's literally what he did....*

Well...his sister had been right about one thing...he had gotten to the airport on time. In fact, had he not been calling his name out as loud as he could to the lady at the desk, they most definitely closed the gate doors without him. The look on her face as she saw a half-asleep disheveled looking man sprinting full speed at her, without a coat in the Japanese winter, waving his crumpled up ticket in the air had been absolutely priceless. She'd almost not let him in in fear of him being some drug-addicted sociopath. Of course as soon as she'd read his name her eyes had lit up at the thought of being in the presence of figure skating greatness and she had gladly welcomed him onboard.

Of course this flight hadn't been the easiest either. He was stuck at the very back near the toilets, seated on the window set next to a wailing baby and an apologetic mother. His entire nine hour flight, though silent thanks to the onboard movies provided, had been filled with the smell of poop, which he couldn't tell if it was from the bathrooms or the baby. Trying to take his mind from the hellish situation he was in, he scrolled through the movie section of the seat back television, before finally settling on trying to catch up on sleep instead.

It had been the loud ding of the seatbelt sign turning on that had woken him up. At first his eyes had been so blurry he thought he was in his own room. Then, the smell hit and the realization of where he was hit him like a slap to the face. Blinking his eyes, he raised the window cover and glanced outside. Below him lights and colors decorated the land below. They glittered like stars.

Moscow...

Once the plane had landed, he was struck with more bad news: His suitcase hadn't made it onto the plane in time, so it was left in  Hasetsu. Meaning the only items he had with him now was his personal backpack. And no clothes. Great. His phone buzzed in his hand as a text message popped on the screen:

Yurio: I'm waiting outside the rink. Hurry up Pork Cutlet Bowl Victor starts soon.

"So he didn't even come to pick me up..." Sighing, he walked out of the sliding doors. Immediately he began to miss his brown coat. Snow fell steadily from the sky, coating everything in a thing sheen of white. A chill, unlike that of the ice rink, blasted through the thin material coving his arms and legs, so much so he might as well have walked out but naked and wouldn't have felt a difference. This was a cold that stung, a cold that gripped onto one's skin and refused to let go. Moving his hands up and down his arms in a feeble attempt to bring a drop of warmth to his shivering body, his half-closed eyes scanned the bustling airport sidewalk. There, through a crowd of people all huddled around the tattered remains of what looked like a map, he spotted the canary yellow of a taxi. Breathing out a sign of both relief and excitement, he took of down the icy surface, wobbling slightly but never quite fully slipping.

In the driver's seat of said taxi sat a man smoking a cigarette. He had a full face of a gray beard with a dark line of hair running down the middle of both that and his mustache. He looked run down and disheveled, shooting Yuuri a dark look when he noticed him approaching the cab, which was in no better shape. The paint was partially peeled, and among opening the door, the bitter stench of smoke made itself prominent. Yuuri debated waiting for another ride, but, seeing as if the airport seemed to get more busy by the second, he chose against it and slipped into the back seat, backpack in hand. Through he didn't look, he could feel the driver's glare through the mirror.

"Что ты хочешь?" He demanded, finally turning to stare at the raven haired man. Assuming he was asking for the location, Yuuri glanced down at the address written on his arm.

"Uh...the Ice Rink, please." The man stared at him, brows furrowing. Assuming he didn't understand, Yuuri repeated the address. The man's demeanor unchanging, he tapped away at his phone. Moments later, the monotonous voice of a computer rang from it, reciting the address in Russian. The driver nodded his head slowly in agreement, before straightening in his seat and slamming down the accelerator. Recognizing this motion, Yuuri hurriedly grasped the door rest, expecting the car to short off like Mari's had.

Instead, a rough sputtering noise filled the inside, and the vehicle began to inch forward. The Japanese man's heart sank at the speed, but he took a breath, regretting the move instantly as his lungs filled with the acrid scent of tobacco.

"Maybe he's moving slow because we're still in the airport. He'll probably speed up when we get on the highway."

Well he was right. As soon as the turtle of a car jerked into the main expressway it did speed up....

A full 3 mph.

Yuuri's jaw clenched as he watched the cars around him whiz by. He estimated that at this rate, he may not have enough time to reach the stadium in time. Shakily, he stuttered,

"D-do you mind going a bit faster?"

"Какой?" When he noticed no change in speed, he once again brought up the translator app on his phone. Among hearing the words, the man spun his entire head to glare back at him, giving Yuuri a heart attack as they were still moving. Without opening his mouth, the driver held a hand out. Yuuri didn't need any words to figure out what this meant.

Still panicking, he grabbed a bill from his pocket and shoved it into the hand without even bothering to look at the amount.

The man eyed the currency, as if examining its usefulness, before returning to his original position.

Immediately the car seemed to speed up, but not by much.

What what supposed to have been a 10 minute ride turned into one of half an hour. By the time the large supporting beams of the ice rink came into view and the car had begun to roll to a stop, the sun had already begun it's descent, though not by much. Thanking the man, Yuuri scrambled out of the seat, making sure to grab his backpack, and took off towards the entrance where Yurio had told him to go. The frigid air only grew more prominent has a gust of wind whipped him in his face. As he whirled a corner, he spotted a familiar figure, hunched over by a single door.

"YURIO!!" Said boy turned at the sound of his name, his face drawn into a scowl. As Yuuri approached him, the tirade began.

"Are you kidding?! I've been waiting out here for thirty minutes, where the f*ck have you been?!" Slowing to a stop, he just stood there, allowing himself to soak in the words.

"Nice to see you too." He muttered as the ranting began to die down. "Speaking of which..." His eyes widened at the significance of his tardiness. "...Victor hasn't gone yet, has he??"

"No, not yet. He's about to, though." Grunting, Yurio opened the rusty door, revealing the rather dark interior. Heart thumping rapidly now, Yuuri stepped into the musky hallway, failing to feel the teen's eyes on him as he passed. "Where's your luggage? Did you lose it or some shit?"

"No, it was left in Hasetsu. I nearly missed the flight so they didn't have time to get it on the plane." Yuuri explained, now walking side by side. The blond snorted.

"HA! Serves you right for losing track of time. What were you doing, facetiming your boyfriend?" Yuuri refused to answer that, instead focusing on the sound of the roaring crowd that increased in volume as he walked. He could a staircase up ahead, one that he assumed led up to the ice.

"And now...representing Russia...Victor Nikiforov!!" Upon hearing the name, Yuuri broke out into a sprint, scrambling up the stairs and leaving Yurio behind. He burst through the doorway that led into the main performance area, just in time to see the said man skate out into the ice, his back turned to where Yuuri stood. His heart fluttered at the sight of the sil--sorry, PLATINUM hair and long slender legs.

As Victor struck his opening pose in the center of the ice, Yuuri began to feel some eyes on him as well as caught some rising whispers. Refusing to let him take any attention away from Victor, he sank back into the darkness of the hallway, putting himself out of the light so he wouldn't be spotted but could still watch the performance. Unknowingly, a smile had appeared on his face.

This didn't stop the whispers, however, thought they were very few. Holding his breath, hoping whoever had seen him would forget about the sighting, his ears picked up the opening chords of a song that he recognized to be 'The Rose.' Victor had long expressed interest in the song, and though so many argued to him that it was a song meant to be skated to by women, he had insisted on it this year. Yuuri's eyes watched as Victor's hand rose to the air in such a graceful manner they could have been mistaken for the delicate petals of a rose. As the opening verse ended and melted away into the second, Yuuri caught a good look at Victor's eyes. It had been a glance of a second, but it had told him enough. His eyes were laced with the delicate coating of longing, not the typical sexual type, but a different type. One that yearned to feel the physical touch. Loneliness. It prompted tears to fill at his eyes.

During their nightly conversations, not once had Victor displayed even an inch of any negative emotion. It just went to show how well he was at hiding them.

The performance melted away into a blur in Yuuri's eyes. The way that Victor moved along to the beat and the voice of the song was unlike anything he had seen in such a long time. He could almost feel the Russian's connection to the song, how the instruments were the onces commanding his body and not the choreography. Yuuri's eyes had been kidnapped by that man and they refused to let go. As the song reached its climax, Victor performed his quad flip, the move he was so known for, before his movements began to slow. Realizing the song was nearly at the end, Yuuri stepped out of the darkness and started making his way over to where the floor met the ice. More and more eyes stared at the familiar skater, but that feeling was lost as the crowd erupted into roars as Victor struck his final pose.

"Wait..."  It didn't take much to recognize said pose: it had been the pose that Yuuri had struck at the end of his free skate the year he had met Victor. A smile now blatantly plastered on his face, he followed where the hand was pointing towards.

Him. It was pointed at him.

Yuuri stared at the man. Had he known? How. Maybe he'd seen him while spinning...no, that'd have been impossible. Squinting his eyes, he noticed that Victor's eyes were closed. So he hadn't known: he had been pointing there by complete coincidence. Still...it felt good. He watched as the Russian lowered his arm, and spun to face the crowd, probably soaking in the cheers. Just barely able to contain his excitement, Yuuri opened his mouth and shouted Victor's name.

"VICTOR!!"

Victor, meanwhile, had been waving to the crowd, ignoring the reporters as they gushed about his 'flawless' performance.

"No..it hadn't been flawless..." Flashing his forced smile, he began to spin to head towards the kiss and cry. His eyes fell to the ice ahead of them. He didn't want to look up. He didn't see the point in looking up. It would all be the same...

He couldn't help but think about Yuuri in that moment, about how much he was looking forward to calling him tonight, now much he missed his warm touch and sweet scent. How...he wouldn't be able to feel any of that for another two weeks...

"VICTOR!!!"

"I can still hear his voice... god I miss him so much..."

"VICTOR!!! Over here!!" The voice had blended into the crowd's cheers, but had been enough to catch the skater's ears. His head jerked upward, looking for whoever had called. Thinking it had been a reporter or a fan, he turned his head to look up at where he was going.

He nearly fainted in that moment.

For there, standing in the open space, arms waving in the air, glasses crooked, hair an absolute mess riddled with flakes of snow, stood a familiar Japanese man, one that had been occupying his thoughts for weeks. It took his eyes a moment to take in what was right in front of him.

"Oh my god..." His mouth slowly turned up into a smile at the man's loud calling and frantic waving. Suddenly, Victor had taken off, skating at full speed towards him, tears forming at his eyes. Yuuri dropped his backpack to the ground, not caring as objects inside clattered.

Ocean eyes met mocha ones. And they clicked.

Victor flew into Yuuri's open arms.

"I-I don't believe it!! It's Yuuri Katsuki!!" The reporter's voices boomed.

The crowd's cheer only grew as they noticed the Japanese skater. But to the two, they only muffled more. At this point, they were occupied. Yuuri tightened his hold around Victor's sequenced outfit, burying his face into his shoulder and taking in the scent. He hadn't known how much he had needed this until now, how much he missed Victor's gentle touch, his racing heartbeat. The amount of pure unbridled love he felt at that moment was beyond what he had ever felt, more than the exchanging of pair rings, more than when Victor had told him about the returned. It was a feeling that just couldn't  be replicated. This was a feeling that nobody else could experience but them. This was their feeling. Their love.

Suddenly, the chill of the ice melted away, and was replaced by Victor's warmth. Not a warmth that came from clothes or a fire, this was a warmth that could only come from the hold of somebody you loved. 

A soft sniffling sound pulled him back into reality, and he pulled away from the embrace, still leaving his arms wrapped. He looked up, only to be met with blue eyes full of tears.

"Y-you're here..." The voice was low, whispered, but clear as day to him. Flashing a smile, he responded,

"Uh...surprise??" He was cut off by a soft warm feeling on his lips. His eyes widened in surprise to see Victor had leans down and pressed his chapped lips against his. Though it had come as an absolute shock, he had no problem returning it.

He'd missed this. Oh how he'd missed this warmth against his lips. He hadn't realized just how much he had longed for this feeling until he hadn't had it anymore. It felt like heaven to him. Absolute ecstasy. They both had melted in, blending into one. Yuuri's cold was now Victor's cold. Victor's warmth was now Yuuri's warmth. Neither of them wanted to pull away. Neither of them wanted to become two again, for fear the separation would become permanent. Victor couldn't help but feel a bit sad as the man in his hold pulled away.

"Victor...the scores..." He had meant to whisper it, but to victor, it was more like a purr. Smiling not once faltering, Victor lowered his hand from around Yuuri's neck and enclosed it into the free hand. He tried to speak, but it soon became clear that if he did, he would start crying. So, he instead pushed all those tears into smiles as both of them walked towards the kiss and cry. The crowd was still furious with cheers as the two sat down on the bench, Victor immediately resting his head on Yuuri's shoulder. His scent was like an addiction: once he got some, he just wanted more. He didn't care about the score: He already knew he had qualified, based on the other's performances. He just wanted to be left alone with Yuuri, was that too much to ask?

"Victor...Victor!!" Suddenly, he was being shaken back into reality, and met with Yuuri's ecstatic expression. "You did it Victor, you won!!" He couldn't help but stare. Stare straight into those brown eyes brimming with absolute excitement. They glimmered, sparkled as if they were made of diamonds. His skin looked to be made of porcelain, soft, slightly flushed. His hair continuously fell over his glasses, looking to be as soft as absolute pure silk.

"Yes, Yuuri, I won. I really won."

~~~

I really have no self control when it comes to writing these.

Words: 4,000

Status: Unedited.

Author status: Literally dead because they can't stand to wait for the movie to come out (and they may have overdosed on Victurri)