The brilliant idea for this one shot came from the talented UnknownWriter1308 . They deserve any and all credit for this story.

(SERIOUSLY THO GO FOLLOW THEM THEIR WRITING IS GODLY AND THEY ARE JUST THE KINDEST PERSON EVER— )

Oh yes, I nearly forgot...

TRIGGER WARNING!!!

You have been warned.

There will be a part two to this...I would write it all in one story but I'm too impatient to get this chapter out so...deal.
~~~

The ending chord was coming up quickly: this much Yuuri knew as his skate gracefully touched down on the ice. His leg swung back, stabilizing himself and allowing the crowd to soak in his successful jump. The ice rink filled with cheers and roars blending together into white noise. The commentator's voice echoed over the daunting cheers, yelling something in an elevated voice that completely skipped over the skater's head. This was a strategy he had developed over his many years of skating: commentators were a distraction and they were to be ignored. In fact the only time Yuuri would ever stoop down to hear the commentary was when he was unsure of the amount of rotations he had performed in the air. Other than that, the only thing his ear was trained to listen to was the music that made up his skating blood.

It was as if somebody had described, "-like the song's already inside you and you're using your body to release it..." Yes, this song was inside of him. His organs were a symphony in sync, his blood the music notes played with absolute perfection. The song was inside of him, and skating was the only way to release it.

And for the longest time, he didn't have a reason to. For the longest time, his skin was a filter, holding back the music and restraining his movements. He hadn't allowed himself to show the world his true skating; he was held back, stuck, frozen in time. Like a Snapchat filter, it was fake.

But....

His eyes darted to the side, just for a split second. But in that second, that quick flash of light and color that very easily could have been missed, made itself present in his brain. And he was reminded what he was doing for. Or rather, who...

There it was. The final chord....

Drawing in a shallow breath, he began to lower his lifted leg. This was it. This was the moment that could define it all. Up until then his performance had been flawless. Though he couldn't see it, he knew the crowd was mesmerized by his movements. Up until then he had felt a way he hadn't felt before. He had felt pride in his performance. He was proud of himself; the thought that this one jump could ruin it all was a daunting one and it began to press him down. The sound surrounding him was a muddy mess now, indistinguishable to the point of non-existent. The pressure was now a force, a touchable object pressing down on him.

"Shit I'm going too slow." He knew it, as did others watching him. As his feet came together and he began the rotation, he couldn't help but feel lightheaded. This was it. He was going to screw it up. This performance, this show that everyone had been talking about, this that would define his skating career, he was about to mess it up. Worst of all, he felt as if he were about to disappoint everyone... he was about to disappoint Victor...

Victor...

Victor...

"...Victor..."

He couldn't. If there's something, anything refused to do, it was to disappoint the man who had saved him. The man who had given him the heart of his career, only the pluck the one in his chest right out. To disappoint him would be to take that heart right back and tell him he wasn't allowed to have it. At least, this was how Yuuri felt. He refused. It just wasn't allowed.

How do I do this? How do I land this jump?

...

What would Victor do? He racked his brain, desperately picking at the webs of memories, searching for those many performance studies he'd done of Victor when he was younger. Alas, they'd all been buried by fresher memories of love and life. Though in any other time, these would be memories that would put him in the best of mood, right now, they only hindered him.

Shit. What else should I do?

...

What would Yurio do?

He suddenly had his answer. It was a gamble, this answer. A move never before attempted by Yuuri.

An ice skater has many skills. One of the most crucial ones being the ability to make decisions in the split of a second. This was a skill that was necessary for success. In the world of ice skating, this was air for survival. (Like I said, I'm not a figure skater, so I'm not sure if this is entirely accurate. Please correct me if it's off.)

But would it be enough? First he actually had to land the jump. It would all be for moot if he didn't get enough rotations.

He was now nearing the apex of the jump, the zenith of the height rapidly approaching. In a quick move, he pried his arm from his chest and lifted it up into the air. The lack of balance this brought immediately made itself known as Yuuri could feel the tightness of the jump start to ebb.

He was tired. This was evident. Yuuri had choreographed this specifically to push him to his absolute limits, and it never failed to leave him breathless by the end of the final chord, despite his stamina. The first time Victor's watched him attempt to perform the whole routine, he'd suggested that Yuuri tone it down, but of course he'd refused. He could only remember Victor's exasperated sigh, followed by, "My love, you'd be pushing yourself too hard."

Stupid Victor. The entire point of this was to push himself too hard. The entire point was to win!! Win so...so they could get married. Gold for a ring.

The sound of metal hitting the ice drew his attention from the past to the present. Having noticed he'd landed, he swung his leg out once again. In the few seconds that followed the landing, he was focused on regaining his balance. So much so, in fact, he didn't hear the tremendous roar that overtook the room, nor did he hear the announcer's ecstatic yelling. Panting heavily now having stabilized himself, he recognized the ending sequence of the music that would lead to that last note. His lungs burned for air as he whirled into a sit spin. His legs and armed felt as if the were on absolute fire, agonizing lava spewing through his veins. His mind paid no mind to the pain, instead asking over and over again,

"Was that enough?" A melodious sound filled his head as he skated to a stop in the center of the rink, standing straight and erect. He threw his arms out and threw his head back, presenting his body to the audience. The cheers that had roared before exploded now, squeals and yells of absolute excitement filled his ears as he struggled to catch his breath. He could hear the faint *whumps* as stuffed animals and bouquets of roses were thrown out onto the ice. The feeling of overwhelming accomplishment that would usually be filling him right now was washed away with a strong sense of unknowing. Unknowing of how the jump had gone. Unknowing of how the judges were going to react.

Unknowing of how Victor felt.

Victor...

Strands of hair fell from their jelled hold and into this vision as his head snapped back up to look at the entrance to the ice. He knew just what he had been looking for and refused to acknowledge the crowd until he did.

"Yuuri!!" The sound was nothing short of melodious to his ears, and Yuuri couldn't help but turn to face the origin of it. There stood, well who else but the man he was doing this for. Victor stood there, arms spread wide with a massive heart-shaped smile on his face. His eyes brimmed with tears, though the smile told him that they were tears of absolute joy. He couldn't help but mimic the beads of shimmering water that built up in his eyes and the serious line that his mouth had formed loosened up to a whimsical smile. Suddenly, the tension that had built up with the mystery jump ebbed away into a sea of excitement. He no longer felt the pressure of success pushing down. In fact, this ecstasy made him feel like a cloud, as if a yellow glow of pure unbridled joy surrounded him and made him feel weightless. His heart was trembling with such excitement that he almost counldn't stand still. There he stood, bracing himself readily, body just waiting to be engulfed in a warm embrace. Yuuri took off, skates nearly moving faster than the rest of his body. The smaller the space between the two skaters shrank, the lighter he seemed to feel. The smile that appeared on his face as he leapt into his fiancés welcoming hold was so wide it might as well have ripped his cheeks. His warm scent was so welcoming to Yuuri, he nearly forgot that he was all the way in Paris and not in St. Petersburg. The sweet heart-filled aroma quite nearly lulled him into a confectious sleep, and were it not for the following words whispered into his ear, he would had simply fallen into a trance of pure ecstasy.

"Yuuri, you were absolutely spectacular!" He could just hear the animation laced in his voice, and it only prompted more tears to form at his mocha eyes. He was still breathing deeply when Victor slowly removed his head from his shoulder and instead brushed his lips against Yuuri's quite chapped lips. This connection was one of absolute pleasure and it gave Yuuri no trouble to return the gesture. There they stood, just the two of them, for what felt like the longest time. The taller man's lips felt like silk to his, a feeling so satisfying that to lose it felt unnatural. Victor's hold had him lifted inches off the ground, and as the Russian pulled away from the precious lip lock, Yuuri slowly sank back down to his skate's blades.

"Wait...that last jump....was it..."

"That toe loop, Yuuri, I didn't know you could do that. And with a raised arm, nonetheless. Have you been keeping secrets from me, my little piggy?"

"I....didn't actually know I—"

"Excuse me, Mr. Katsuki?" The embrace was finally broken when an officiant broke their conversation. "You should make your way over to the kiss and cry now. Your scores are about to be announced." Smiling unwavering, Yuuri closed his hand around Victor's and began to walk over to the designated area.

"Come on, Victor! Lets go—" he was cut off as said man's hand slipped from his grasp. Gasping softly he turned to look at the man, who was looking down, shuffling his skates.

"I...I can't, Yuuri. I'm...up next." He turned to face the ice, which was nearly clear of plushies and flowers. "I can't join you at the kiss and cry." The words was an arrow shot through his chest, echoing in his head. I can't join you at the kiss and cry, I can't join you at the kiss and cry, I can't join you at the kiss and cry...

"W-What?" he stuttered, breathlessly. This was a concept how mind wasn't quite able to fathom. To sit...at the bench...at the kiss and cry....alone... Victor noticed this behavior, and flashed him an assuring smile.

"You'll be ok, Yuuri, Just pretend I'm right next to you, you wont even notice I'm gone." Yuuri drew in a deep breath. It shouldn't be this hard, should it? To be without Victor? Just what was wrong with him to be having this amount of desire? Victor drew his loving gaze away from his betrothed and to the ice. "I'm up." Pressing his lips against Yuuri's forehead, he turned and began walking towards the opening of the border. Yuuri watched his purple outfit sway in a stupor, a trance, unknowing. He had begun to tremble, though he wasn't aware of it, and the officiant stared at the skater, unsure of whether or not to disturb him.

"Um... Mr. Katsuki? Sir...." The Japanese man jumped at the mention of his name, and stiltedly turned.

"O-oh...right..." Following the man, he refused to remove his eyes from the small purple sliver of Victor's costume that he could see. The crowd around the rink had grown busy, so much so that keeping his gaze on the small splash of color in the stark contrast of the gray rink proved difficult. Still, he insisted, continuously dodging the many bodies that stood in his path. The officiant led the man over to the get up in front of awaiting cameras, predators just waiting to capture the first reaction, the first twitch of emotion at the skater's face among hearing his score. As he sat down on the steel bench, a darkness seemed to fall upon him as a certain realization befell him. He couldn't see Victor from where he sat. Meaning...he wouldn't be able to watch his beloved's performance.

"Wait...I..." He stood to his feet, but stumbled back down to his seat as he'd evidently forgotten to put on his blade covers.

"Please, remain there. The officiant began to talk, but was cut off as the announcement came through. His eyes jerked up at the ceiling, though evidentially he would see nothing but the bleak support beams of the ceiling. His eyes had refused to look at the big screen in the center of the rink; the reason was unknown and he'd rather it stay that way.

"The score for Yuuri Katsuki is...." The number that followed along with the cheers was one that would bring absolute joy to any skater. A personal best, a new world record, what was there not to be happy about?

However...Yuuri felt no happiness. He felt no glee. This score was just a number...it brought no emotions to him. He only felt...loneliness. An enclosing suffering that refused to stop its conquest of his body. Air was now a precious commodity to him, and it felt as if he just couldn't receive enough of it. His breaths sped as he yearned. He yearned to hear  his name being called. He yearned to feel two safe arms around his body. He yearned to feel the soft presence of lips to his. He NEEDED those. They had become a sort of necessity to him, and without them...he felt as if he were drowning. His heart began to burn, burn with an insufferable fire that brought nothing but pure agony to his blood. Air...he couldn't breath. He couldn't....seem to inhale....to get enough air to quench his desire...air.... he...needed... it....couldn't...get it...

The camera flashes that had been blinking rapidly before slowed as the music of the next routine began to play. He couldn't hear it...he couldn't hear anything...except the rapid beating of his own heart...

"...Mr. Katsuki...are you ok?" The voice was an alarm clock to him, pulling him to reality. A harsh reality. An ugly reality. Tears had begun to stream down his cheeks, and they didn't go unnoticed.

"Stop it...don't look at me..." Eyes. Eyes everywhere, staring, ogling silently, undressing and belittling. They were there, and unrelenting. Yet the one pair he actually wanted to be seen by....weren't there. "Stop it...look away..." Why were they staring? Why wouldn't they stop? Was it that hard? Was it...was it??

"I SAID DON'T LOOK AT ME!!!" The outburst was so sudden, it shocked those who hadn't even been paying attention to the commotion. And he was gone, leaping out of his seat and wobbling away as fast as he could go with skates on....it wasn't fast enough. He wanted to go faster...he wanted to get out of there... he needed to get out of there. As he stumbled into the hallway, his frustration grew to the point where he could no longer stand it. In a complete state of panic, he leaned against the wall with one hand and fumbled with his right skate's laces, tearing the shoe off as soon as it was loosened enough and throwing it across the way. He reached down to do the same with his left, when he lost his balance and slipped a bit.

Pain... sharp pain seared from his hand, and he released the now-untied boot from his hand to examine the damage. A long clean cut running across his palm now desecrated his skin, blood spilling from the would and making its way down his arm. The crimson...it was oddly welcoming.

...why did it feel good?

"Yuuri...what are you doing?" Dammit. He recognized the voice, thick with a European accent. Slowly, he turned to see a certain skater standing at the entrance of the hallway from which he had just come through. Blond hair with a brown undercut, surprisingly long eyelashes...

"C-Chris..." He muttered in complete and utter shock that the figure skater had even noticed him. Chris's dirty green eyes looked over the shaking figure skater, before landing on his hand. They widened at the sight.

"That's a pretty nasty cut you have there..." He took a step forward, and Yuuri stepped back.

"Chris...please, just go back in there..." Chris could now clearly see the Japanese man's flushed cheeks and tear-stained skin. He immediately recognized this.

"Yuuri...you need to stay calm..."

"NO!! I told you, just...leave me alone!!" Yuuri screamed at the man, taking more steps backwards. His foot collided with something, and he diverted his attention for a quick second to see just what it was he had touched.

"Victor is almost done...if you come with me we can...woah—" He was cut off when he noticed Yuuri grab something from the floor. His ice skate, with the blade facing Chris, was being held out defensively in front of the man who was now shaking feverishly.

"Don't...don't say that name...."

"...Victo—"

"I SAID DON'T SAY IT!!" Subconsciously, the two had made their way down the hallway to the exit, so that Yuuri's back was pressed against he door and Christ stood a good 15 feet away.

"Shit I'n cornered." Yuuri looked around frantically for an escape route, unaware that the perfect one awaited right behind him.

"Ok...Yuuri...please, think about Victor..."

"I told you to stop saying that name."

"How will he feel when he gets off the ice and you're not there to greet him?"

"I said stop it!!"

"Please just put the skate down..."

"...no"

Throwing the skate to the side, Yuuri pressed against the handle bar on the door with his back and slipped out into the snowy Parisian night. The door quickly slammed closed with the wind, and in the few seconds it took Chris to reach it and push it open again...Yuuri had already disappeared, completely out of sight...

Behind him, he could hear the cheers of the crowd as the music to Victor's program struck its final chord.

"...What am I going to tell Victor?"