Viktor felt as if his body was a birdcage, cruelly holding in the essence of what made him who was. It was too much to grapple with. He was happy that Yura had been treated with kindness, that his heart had been handled with grace by the one who had the power to strip it of innocence.
So, why? Why did he feel sick with anger, distraught and destroyed? Had the wires in his brain been crossed, tangled into an unsalvageable knot? What was wrong with him, to think so selfishly?
There wasn't enough time in the world to decipher these feelings, to make sense of the rapid fire signals urging him to slander Yuuri Katsuki's pathetic name. What kind of person did that make Viktor? Had he been hoping to see Yura's naive hopes stomped into the dirt?
No, because he would never wish that kind of fate on the boy he considered his brother. Why, then, did he dare to feel so disrespected, so hurt? He thought for hours, sitting alone upon the silken hotel linens, until he reached a plausible conclusion.
Viktor was suffering. He was suffering because Yuuri had been kind to Yura, but cruel to him. It made ribbons of insecurity lace their way through his heartstrings. He was no stranger to misery and loneliness, to unsavory feelings galore…but one of the things Viktor held confidence in were his people skills.
They had been drummed into his brain by mama when he was only a small boy. Why were they failing him now? Was he unlikeable? The carefully crafted public mask of poise and beauty hadn't slipped, he hadn't shown Yuuri who Vitya was.
Why did the boy dislike him, the perfect version of him so adamantly? If the fine china Viktor, the crème of the crop Viktor was no longer what the world wanted… How could he please them?
'Yuuri Katsuki is only one person', the man reminded himself. It was ridiculous to get out of sorts over a single person's opinion, he knew that. There were plenty of people online who took joy in raking his name through the mud. There was one key difference between those plebeians and his rival, however.
Yuuri Katsuki seemed to get along with everyone. The younger skaters looked up to him, the older ones, like Chris, doted on him… and the public had yet to get to know him. Viktor was the outlier, but for what reason?
Professionals knew better than to get butthurt over something as silly as an out of pocket interview. Sure, Viktor had been a little cold and blunt but isn't the way a good competitor is expected to act?
Wouldn't it be worse to lay down and die, to allow the boy a pointless victory? Who could fault him for being bitter. Yuuri had been used as a warning, for Christ's sake! The ASF and RSF threatened him with another man's existence, teasing the consequences that were to come if he didn't play by their rules.
Yuuri wasn't stupid, even Viktor could see that, though he loathed to admit it. Katsuki must have known, encouraged it, even. That's why the Russian had acted out in the first place… so if anyone was to blame, it was Yuuri.
There was no rhyme or reason to the younger boy's cruel behavior, his initial crime, and based upon that fact alone, Viktor grew to hate him just a little more. No, not the kind of hate that typically suited the four letter word, but the rare kind spurred on by confusion and fear. The man no longer felt rage.
That ship had sailed after watching Yura glow with delight upon meeting and conversing with the man. There was nothing left to do but fight back… and wallow, of course. Viktor was good at that once he got some drink in him.
Yura, who was known to keep the older skater in line, had passed out in their coaches room, no surprise there. The comfort Yakov brought him as a father figure was unparalleled, try as Viktor might to be a good influence in the boy's life. The room was so cold, so empty. He couldn't bear it for another second.
Yakov would do worse than scold him if he were to catch Viktor drinking before a competition… but his coach was busy this evening. A few shots wouldn't lead to the apocalypse. Confident in his newly concocted plan for the evening, Viktor drank a couple of chilled airplane bottles from the mini fridge.
Three turned to six, six to nine, nine to twelve, and at that point, who's counting? Hours later, Viktor grew sober enough to realize he had ended up in a seedy club, erratic strobe lights bouncing off the walls and reflecting back upon dresses covered in sequins and belt buckles crafted from silver.
So, going with the flow, as he convinced himself was the most appropriate course of action, Viktor drank some more. He swallowed anything that was offered to him, anything available. Malibu, Vodka, fireball, you name it, he ingested it. Everything was a blur of booze and glitter, after that.
Only when he awoke to his four A.M alarm, still half drunk and nauseous, did the man realize he had made a terrible mistake. Viktor wasn't alone. In his hotel bed, on his side , for that matter, was a tanned beauty of a man whom he couldn't recall in the slightest.
The used condom on the bedside desk told him plenty, as did the ache in his thighs and burn in the back of his throat. Viktor felt like human garbage, disgusting and pathetic. Who had seen him, the Russian wondered, panicking quietly as he gagged on the bile resting bouncing between his sternum and lips. He was doomed, everything was going to crumple, and- hold that thought.
He sprint-stumbled to the bathroom, nearly vomiting on the pristine tile just before reaching the toilet. In a small act of mercy, Viktor was able to reach the toilet, pouring every drop of liquor he had consumed out in sporadic waves of clear bile. The cycle repeated until his stomach finally relented.
Now he could go back to freaking out and planning his own funeral. If only it were that easy. Hope is a fickle thing, clinging to the heart of man in the most precocious circumstances. If Viktor could kick this man out of his room before the sun rose, before Yakov or any of the other skaters could see him… maybe he could get away with it.
No one would be the wiser, he'd never drink again, and everything would go his way. Cogs turning, Viktor made his way to the bedside.
"Доброе утро! Rise and shine my dearest, darling prince!"
Mystery man groaned, mouth opening and closing unattractively as he muttered garbled nonsense. That's fine, two can play at that game!
"Oh, are you still sleepy? That's fine! I can go to the courthouse on my own to figure out what documents are required of us. I'll come back with coffee, then we can go back together!"
"Documents? What the fuck is going on, bro… damn, why you trippin, baby?"
Elegant, isn't he? Viktor was disgusted by the idea of sleeping with a man who talks like a frat boy, but what's done is done.
He continued the charade, upping the ante by playing with his own hair dumbly before retorting "Don't play coy, darling. Marriage! You deflowered me, I can't remain unwed now that I'm no longer a virgin! Mistress… Starbrite says it's a sin. Come, now, to hell with the courthouse, we must meet with the congregation! They'll be waiting for us downstairs, the ones in all purple!"
The look of fear on the stranger's face was so outlandish that Viktor couldn't help but laugh, hysterical from the stress threatening to rip him apart. That's fine, considering the fact that he wanted to amp up the crazy.
So he cackled, eyes wide, heart shaped smile stretched from ear to ear, bent over and gasping for breath between each maniacal outburst. He continued to laugh as the stranger dressed and ran out the door. Problem solved, anxiety levels descending, Viktor shuffled around the room in search of his still screaming phone. The alarm was set to default, yet it seemed far more obnoxious than usual.
As he picked up the phone, a deep terror settled in his stomach, gluing his feet to the carpet as a rush of dread overtook him. The kind of fear you feel when being called to the principal's office as a child, or when your guardian sends you a photo of an empty liquor bottle found in your room as a teenager.
Twitter notifications. Now that's more than typical considering he was at a competition. Fans were quick to show support even days prior… but one particular notification came not from a fan, but from Skate Daily, a 'reputable' skating news channel and magazine.
They were known for pulling stunts like this, only caring about how many likes and retweets their life altering articles earned. Viktor Nikiforov was strong and level headed, he could pull off an easy confidence most could only dream of, but in that moment, he was little more than a trembling child. He knew that the only thing left to do was read what had been posted.
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@SkateDaily
Is it official? Viktor Nikiforov, skating legend and genius on the ice was seen entering his federation issued hotel while holding hands with a mystery man this morning at around one A.M. Both the public and professionals in the skating world have been speculating upon the accusations thrown his way in regards to his sexuality. Ladies love him, but do they even have a chance? Read more in the article below!
Http://Viktor?Nikiforovskatecaughtintheact//skatedaily.com
A picture of a disheveled Viktor walking into the hotel, hand in hand with the man he woke up next to. The two seem to be in animated conversation as they walk through the large sliding glass doors .
2:32 am 11/15/19 • 67826 views
973 Retweets 49.2 k Likes 413 Bookmarks
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@Nikiforfavebabe
@skatedaily Это вмешательство в личную жизнь.
Кого вообще волнует, что они геи? это его дело, не твое. Со всем уважением, но это не ваше дело. удалю этот пост…Знаешь, тебе должно быть стыдно.
2:38 am 11/15/19 • 9782 views
19 Retweets 9.4 k Likes 7 Bookmarks
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@Frostbiteme
@nikiforfavebabe Я согласен…Это очень глупо, и это жестоко...мы все знаем, что любовь это любовь, даже если он гей.
2:42 am 11/15/19 • 7359 views
11 Retweets 2.5 k Likes 4 Bookmarks
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@Arminartthou
I don't even like Viktor… but this is too much. It's no secret that the RSF has been known to push back against skaters that don't fit the mold. Y'all are literally setting him up for failure with this shit, especially considering the fact that he's performing in MOSCOW tomorrow… Jesus fucking Christ. I absolutely cannot with this bs
2:49 am 11/15/19 • 5634 views
9 Retweets 2.3 k Likes 2 Bookmarks
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@Lifelovelemonade
NOOOO he can't be gay!! He's supposed to marry me… this is the greatest tragedy that has ever occurred. I doubt it's true tho tbh.. cuz lets bffr. Skating fans are known for making shit up to stir the pot lmao. He doesn't even look gay 😭
3:32 am 11/15/19 • 2174 views
3 Retweets 972 Likes 0 Bookmarks
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@Vikandvak
@lifelovelemonade ex-fucking-scuse me?? What do you mean he doesn't look gay?? LMAO… what does gay look like? Get off your homophobic high horse, babes… Stereotyping, much? Jesus fuck.
3:39 am 11/15/19 • 1729 views
6 Retweets 728 Likes 3 Bookmarks
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@Lifelovelemonade
@vikandvak Oh shut up, your holier than thou attitude is so funny… I've seen ur fit checks, dude. You just want him to be gay so you have a chance… even if he is, you def don't have one with that tacky ass y2k aesthetic you've got going on 😘
3:46 am 11/15/19 • 1563 views
1 Retweets 459 Likes 0 Bookmarks
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@Vikandvak
@lifelovelemonade I hope both sides of your pillow are warm. I hope someone pisses in your Frosted Flakes. I hope great tragedy befalls you and everyone you love :( And maybe, I'm sort of having a moment
Chris: So you're texting me? I'm touched. Thank you for the honesty. Lay it out for me, Mon Cher.
Viktor: Could I take you up on that offer and tell you in person @ the pool?
Chris: of course. See you soon?
Viktor: Mhm! I'll be there in 15.
Viktor threw on a pair of old swim trunks, a little tight on the waistband and made his way to the hotel rooftop.
There were swarms of skaters mingling about, but his best friend was easy to spot amongst the crowd. It's hard to miss a 6 foot man in his ruby red Speedo. Chris had more trust in that thing than Viktor had in Yakov, by god.
"Come, come! Want me to pour you a glass? It's vintage!" Chimed Chris, cheeks flushed from the alcohol.
"Can champagne…be vintage? I'm alright, though. I think I've lost the right to drink, at least for the time being. If I can't act like an adult, then I don't get to drink like one." Viktor joked in response, trying to keep the mood light.
Chris raised a brow, motioning for him to slip into the pool's heated shallows. Viktor set his towel on one of the reclining chairs before wading into the water, shivering as the cool air nipped at his exposed skin. Moscow weather was truly cruel, even for a hot blooded Russian such as himself.
"So… What happened last night?"
Viktor pinched the bridge of his nose, face wrinkling into an embarrassed grimace. "That's what I'd like to know. I drank a couple airplane bottles, and the rest is history."
Chris nodded, pausing to take a sip from the wine glass he held just inches above the water's surface.
"Can I ask the million dollar question?"
Well, someone had to. Chris could keep it to himself, right? Viktor knew he needed to prove his newly promised trust, but with the way things were, it was hard not to be paranoid. Past experiences had taught him not to trust a soul, his coach being the exception, but what did he have to lose? The situation couldn't get much worse.
"Go on, shoot."
Chris smiled, the weight of his head supported by one palm.
"Are you gay?" He asked, quiet enough to avoid outside detection.
"Yes."
He had never admitted it out loud before, but it was like someone had hammered a pair of stakes through his both wrists. His pulse had turned to lead, pumping the toxins to the rest of his body.
Viktor had voiced it aloud, admitted it to another person, making it real. No, it had always been real, but he'd never accepted it as reality. He'd never be able to act on any feelings, regardless. Skating came first, as it always had.
"Congratulations. Am I the first person to know?"
Viktor gave a weak nod in response, not trusting his voice to remain steady. There was a brief moment of silence before the Russian found himself launching into a monologue that started with Demitry and ended with the prior nights happenings.
Throughout his speech, Chris remained silent and attentive, nodding when necessary and clicking his tongue when offended on his best friend's behalf. When Viktor finally finished, tired of hearing his own voice, the blonde pulled him into a warm half-hug, patting him on the back encouragingly while formulating a response.
"I get why you hide it, we all know how it is… they don't take us seriously as is. Russia is one of the worst places to be gay, too, I mean come on! It's the 21st century! They need to catch up with the times… but I wish you had confided in me. Again, I get it, but that isn't something anyone should have to bear alone. You can always confide in me, yknow? I give a shit. It's not a bother, I won't judge you."
"I just… I was always taught to keep my mouth shut, and anytime I offered even the tiniest hint of trust, it proved to be fatal. You know how we skaters are, hearts made of glass."
Chris chuckled, head tilting back softly causing the neon lights of the city below to cast his figure into a silhouette. Viktor joined in, as stupid as it was.
The whole thing was so ridiculous. After a good minute of muffled laughter interspersed with forced bouts of silence as the two tried to look sane and stable in front of their fellow competitors, Chris stabilized, wiping imaginary tears from his waterline.
"Anything else you wanna get off your chest, yknow, while we're at it?"
Viktor did the same, theatrically mimicking his friend before growing still.
"Actually… The whole rivalry thing has been driving me insane. It's turning me into someone else, someone selfish."
"The whole Yuuri fiasco? Why haven't you apologized yet?"
Viktor raked a hand through his hair, fighting the urge to roll his eyes. He needed to stay calm and respectful if he wanted to properly explain what had happened to Chris. Sure, he'd seen what had gone down, but Yuuri's back was to him throughout the altercation. Of course Viktor looked like the villain.
"Chris… I don't want to argue with you."
The Swiss man gave him a disapproving glare, not unlike that which a parent would give to a whining child. Patience, Viktor, he's just trying to help.
"I tried to be friendly, Chris. I know I acted like a dick in that interview, ok? It's just- You know what the RSF does. Yuuri was used as a pawn, and it worked. They provoked me-"
"You are twenty one years old, Viktor. I love you, I really do, you're like a brother to me, and that's why I'm going to be honest with you. What you need to do is learn accountability. Yeah, they provoked you, but you took your frustrations out on an innocent boy. Wouldn't you bite back, had you been in his place?"
Fair point, Chris had him there.
"Even then, get this! Yuuri wasn't upset at you, Mon Cher. He was fucking nervous. Everyone knows the kid has anxiety, like, major anxiety. He looks up to you, of course he didn't know how to act when his idol suddenly approached him!"
Viktor didn't know which of his thoughts to verbalize first. Chris had gone off on him, gentle as he was. Chewing on his bottom lip, the Russian settled on the idea he was stuck on.
"What if Yuuri was in on it? What if this is all some big ruse?"
"You know what I think? You're too goddamned paranoid. Yuuri wouldn't hurt a fly, much less a human being. You overthink this shit until it is blown entirely out of proportion."
Viktor wasn't convinced. Chris obviously didn't plan on conceding anytime soon, so for the sake of his own sanity and friendship, he silently decided to play along, throwing his pride out the window in the process.
"Fine. I'll apologize to Katsuki after the medaling ceremony. How does that sound?"
"Parfait!"
Though his true concerns hadn't been placated, Viktor was grateful to have gotten the conversation over with, as it had been a long time coming.
Whether or not Yuuri actually 'forgave' him didn't matter, he couldn't care less. That left him with one last problem to handle, leaving him more time to focus on the bigger issues, such as his possibly doomed career.
The two chatted it up until Chris began sneezing, sending Viktor into mother hen mode. He ushered his best friend back into the hotel lobby, accompanying the man in the elevator before taking the lift up to his own floor. God, how he dreaded tomorrow.
Katsuki would probably have a smug grin on his stupid mug… Viktor would be perfectly happy to slap it off, but that wasn't an option. What he needed most was public favor. Maybe being the first to apologize would be a good thing… If someone 'happened' to see it, all the better. He knew it was a shallow line of thought, yet couldn't find it within himself to be bothered. His way of thinking had gotten him to the top, after all.
Viktor slept horribly, tossing and turning, unable to achieve REM sleep, leaving him exhausted the next morning. Yakov had been forced to drag him out of bed, the same way he had done it when Viktor was a highschool student.
He tied his hair up, powdered his cheeks and blinked a light coating of waterproof Dior mascara onto his lashes with the dainty little wand before the entire Russian group headed to the first floor for breakfast.
Chris had been busy recovering from his hangover, meaning Viktor was able to focus on himself and his mental run-throughs before drawing numbers for the free.
Yuuri would be going first, Chris second, Georgi third, Viktor fourth, and the last two were skaters he wasn't very familiar with, Keegan Nguyen and Paul Fentz.
It shouldn't have come as a surprise, but Viktor anticipated Yuuri's performance that day. Sure, he didn't like the guy, but by god he could skate. If he could find a way to get over both himself and his nerves, he'd become a household name.
Viktor shook the thought off. He shouldn't be worrying about anyone but himself at a competition. Empathy led to pity and pity gave way to a whole flood of emotions he didn't have the time to work through.
The warm up was uneventful, as it's meant to be. The lack of drama was promising, allowing Viktor to ease into his movements without looking over his shoulder every ten seconds, fearing Katsuki's gaze.
Chris kicked up some frost at him teasingly as he passed by, bringing a smile to the man's face. It really was wonderful to have him back. Lesson learned, he would never take their friendship for granted again.
By the time the announcer called for the skaters to exit the ice, tension and excitement were rippling through the chilled atmosphere. Who would pull out ahead? Viktor was the best horse to bet on, but Chris was on his heels, and newcomer Yuuri Katsuki looked focused enough to kill.
As Yuuri was beckoned to the stage, the rest of the men's competition waited for their turn rinkside. Viktor patiently awaited the energetic trumpet signaling the beginning of Katsuki's program, bouncing on the balls of his feet… but the trumpet never came.
"Welcome Yuuri Katsuki, representing Japan! He is currently in third place, trailing closely behind Christoph Giacometti. He will be skating to a program we haven't seen yet this season, Origin!"
Well, shit.