[[ ohmygod you guys are hilarious, I love you, as requested more Yurio tidbits and other shenanigans ahead ]]
When Yurio woke that morning, the two adults were on either side of him, sleeping softly. He was on his side, his light, fluffy bangs distracting him from Yuuri's face. He lifted his small hand up to tuck them behind his ear, a few strands slipping back in his eyes, but despite that it was enough. Yuuri's cheek was mushed into his pillow, his face looking even rounder than usual. Yurio stole a glance back over his shoulder at Victor, who laid on his back, his arm stretched out underneath the child's head. The blond noticed the little bit of drool on his arm, the boy wiping the rest from his mouth, pushing Victor's arm away. Victor grumbled and retrieved his arm, turning around, letting Yurio plop his head on a pillow as he watched Yuuri.
He wasn't sure what his own face looked like now, not when he was watching Yuuri's lips purse and his eyes clench shut a little tighter.
He wondered what Yuuri dreamed about, or if he even dreamed. Maybe he was like Yurio, who forgot his dreams a good solid minute after waking up.
Yuuri's eyebrows unknotted then, a perfect sigh leaving him. and Yurio wondered if the intensity of his stare had woke Yuuri somehow.
Dark hair was messy along the shape of Yuuri's forehead, his eyes squinting lightly in the darkness created by the window shades. It looked like Yuuri was still processing what time it was and why there was a little, nervous looking Yurio staring at him, when a sleepy smile overcame him. Yurio stilled.
Yuuri rubbed his face further into the pillow, as if trying to wipe the sleep off. "Mornin'." his happy whisper made Yurio happy.
Yurio thought he'd died and shared a bed with an angel.
"You sleep a little more, 'kay? I'll make breakfast." Yuuri picked up the stray locks of blond hair and slowly dragged them over the side of Yurio's face and behind one of his small ears, where all the blood seemed to rush. Yuuri pulled his hand away, careful, and sat up off the bed, letting his feet touch the floor a few seconds before he was standing up and leaving the two Russians.
Sitting up slowly after Yuuri left the room, the younger's bangs lifted in a puff of air, and his eyes cast down to Victor, who turned to lay on his back again.
Maybe before Yuuri came into his life, the seven year old skater would've let Victor live.
He saw his one chance in the form of a pillow, which was so fluffy it would've been impossible to picture it as a murder weapon. No one would suspect a thing. Yurio would be able to live out his days in peace with Yuuri, who would come to all of his competitions and reviews, hold his hand whenever Yurio wanted, and do whatever it was that two people in love did. Yurio's knowledge of that was limited in all his innocence and inexperience.
Small hands grasped the nearby pillow and with a quick breath he pressed it over Victor's face. This was by no means a lethal push, but Victor awoke to the pressure over his face nonetheless. A quick thought, and his body convulsed sharply, dramatic enough that it startled a gasp out of Yurio. Victor's body went completely slack in faux-hypoxia a split second later, ensuring that his expression was blank and dead-eyed when Yurio finally did lift the pillow.
"... Hey." A small voice sounded. Victor didn't respond.
Victor felt a nudge at his shoulder, and then a harder nudge, until Yurio's hands were desperately pulling and pushing Victor's broader shoulders. "Hey! Wake up." Victor let his tongue hang out for added affect, and Yurio's panic spiked.
"Victor!" His small arms wriggled around Victor's neck and he was trying to squeeze his body back into life, certain that this was how they did it in the movies. Or was that the Heimlich? "Please Victor, 'm sorry, wuh-wake up! Pleasepleaseplease!" Yurio's face rubbed up the length of Victor's chest to look up at him, before diving his head down and resting an ear on Victor's chest, his fingers shaking. His own heartbeat was so fast, blood pounding loudly through his ears, that he could barely hear Victor's pulse. Or was that just his own?
Victor decided to cut the crap once he felt Yurio's tears start to soak through his shirt.
He sighed, and Yurio stiffened, his grip tightening on Victor's shirt. "I'm the one who wants to cry," he murmured softly in their shared, native tongue, watching the awe and relief on Yurio's face as it lifted from his shirt. "What are you trying to do so early in the morning?"
Yurio sniffled, and Victor rolled his eyes, lifting the bottom of his shirt to dry Yurio's little pink, button nose. Yurio started blowing snot into it and Victor retracted his hand, face scrunched up in disgust. "Brat!"
Yurio picked himself up as he sat on Victor's abdomen. "You pretended you were dead! That's not- -that's not nice!"
"Oh, you do not get to tell me what's nice and what isn't." Victor was completely sitting up and let Yurio flail off of him, hurriedly taking off his dirtied shirt, his long, silver locks spilling forward over his shoulders and acting as a makeshift cover for now. "Any particular reason you want me dead? Other than, you know, your inevitable defeat on the ice." Victor wasn't taking any of this seriously, he knew Yurio didn't really want to kill him, or mean to do so, as silly as he was.
Nose dry, Yurio frowned and sat up with his hands stuffed in his lap. "Yuuri likes you more than me." He blurted out, and it hurt so badly that he wanted to cry even harder.
So he did.
Unlike Yuuri, who would probably panic at a time like this, Victor calmly watched the grumpy grade schooler have his fit, which was oddly enough quiet and very controlled. It made his little breathy sobs seem sadder, but Victor wasn't fooled into any sort of worry.
Victor wasn't about to correct Yurio with some silly thing like 'Yuuri loves us equally', because even a seven year old understood the difference between what the adults had, and the brotherly love that Yuuri showed Yurio. Still, Victor wasn't going to keep him crying, because Yuuri'd get mad at him. "C'mere." Victor held his arms open after patting a spot on his lap. Yurio didn't trust Victor one bit, so it took a little more out of the latter to convince him. "If you stop crying, I'll show you something he likes even more than me." There were a few more sniffs, and Yurio was bringing up part of his shirt to wipe his eyes before clambering onto Victor's lap and plopping his butt down a little too hard. Victor cringed, but obediently opened up the link he'd bookmarked on his phone.
A few swipes of his finger and the footage started from where Yuuri made his entrance, and Yurio was instantly captivated, his eyes never leaving the small screen. His face turned an inch toward Victor's. "What is he saying?" Right, Yurio didn't understand Japanese.
"He's saying, he goes to the university for their pork cutlet... it's a- -uhh, Japanese dish."
Yurio giggled, hearing Yuuri shout from the screen. "What now?"
They must've repeated the scene about ten times before the two of them were cackling, finding their mutual funny spots. Victor laid down onto his back and Yurio joined him, watching the video as the elder held it up for the both of them. Eventually the door opened and Yuuri peaked his head inside, bringing the smell of cooked breakfast with him. "Victor? Yuri? What're you guys laughing about?"
The two Russian boys looked at each other before flashing their pretty grins at Yuuri, who finally heard his own voice issuing from the cellphone and reacted immediately with a huff. "Victor, why do you keep showing people that? It's embarrassing."
"Our little demon likes it. Look how happy he is." Victor poked the youngling's cheek, whose hands shot out and smushed Victor's face until he got his bearings. Yuuri was shaking his head and returning to the kitchen, leaving the others to themselves once more.
There was silence between them as they listened, Yuuri's 'I LOVE IT' sounding within the room, followed by probably the goofiest sounding chuckle Victor had ever produced.
"You're not going to... tell Yuuri about the pillow-thing, are you?" Yurio sheepishly asked, watching Victor exit out of the video and attend other things on his cellphone.
"Only if you surrender your bacon to me."
Yurio had resigned to give Victor his delicious bacon in lieu of hush money, but as they sat there and Victor polished it off, Yurio was reminded of why he never should've trusted Victor in the first place.
"Yurio tried to suffocate me with a pillow earlier."
The blond's face displayed both betrayal and fear, but before he could say anything Yuuri was already giving him a look.
"Murder is... bad." Yuuri spoke plainly, eyebrows raised as Yurio's face flushed with shame. "I'm bad?" he asked in a small voice, automatically resigned to live the rest of his life hated by Yuuri.
"No. No, you're not bad." Yuuri leaned over the counter to soothe the boy, his hand reassuringly plopping onto Yurio's shoulder. Yurio liked how big and warm his hand felt. "You're a good kid. But if he goes, then..." Yuuri tried to explain what it would mean for Victor to be gone. "Who would've shown you the video of me?"
The blond was a little taken aback, a small smile returning to him at the thought of Yuuri stuffing his face. "And what about the quadruple... lats. Slats?"
"Quit interrupting, Victor. Who'd teach you that if he wasn't there?"
"I'm not teaching Yurio Bundy anything."
Yuuri exasperatedly looked over at Victor. "Hey, I'm trying to save your life here."
Any semblance of continuing that was lost, but Yurio seemed to have some semblance of understanding. Victor stuck his tongue out at Yurio, who returned the gesture once Yuuri's back was turned.
Yurio wasn't the only one who had eyes for the Katsudon Angel. Victor was sure that there would be more, and they wouldn't be little harmless blond figure skaters. No, they'd have curves and tits and whatever else it was that Japanese boys liked.
Yuuri wasn't convinced that anyone was after him, so he was much more relaxed as he waited for Victor to come out of the restroom. They were at a public rink this time, because Victor planned to finally teach Yuuri how to skate. He waited with his rented skates on his lap, looking around at the other skaters, when he was approached.
"иностранец?" She asked, before cocking her pretty little head thoughtfully, and asking, this time not in Russian, "Can you speak English?"
Yuuri nodded, eyeing the auburnette with a small smile. "Yeah. I'm still not... used to Russian."
"I'm Mila. You haven't been in Russia for very long?" She gracefully took a seat beside him on the bench. He shifted towards her, politely regarding her as he spoke, "It's been a couple months, but... I guess I should've picked up a little by now, huh? I'm Yuuri." He grinned.
"Well, Yuuri, maybe you just need a proper teacher." Her hand skimmed close, brushing against the outside of his thigh. He slowly looked down to her fingers that started to tease over his leg. His eyes ran back up her body, just a little, watching the smile widen on her lips.
Yuuri's thigh twitched out of her hand, and he knew deep down that this wasn't just some weird foreign custom. She was flirting with him, for a reason that was beyond him, and he needed to shut it down. "You probably mean well, Mila, and I really appreciate the offer, but I've already got a... proper teacher. He's gonna teach me skating in a little while, too." Yuuri's feet tapped excitedly on the ground.
Her smile softened, her shoulders bunching up. "Is he good at skating? I'm probably better."
Was she really talking about skating? The way she drawled it seemed to adulterate its meaning. Yuuri's cheeks flushed and he defended his boyfriend, "Oh he's more than good. He's the best." Mila raised an eyebrow as he confidently folded his arms across his chest. "He can skate for hours," he added, wondering if he'd been silly enough to put her off.
"Oh?" She was trying to stifle laughter now. "How big are his skates?" Were they really talking about dicks now?
"They're, uhh..." Yuuri thought about it, genuinely. "It's pretty big." He laughed sheepishly, joined by her own soft chuckle.
"Well... it sounds like you're in good hands." She stood slowly, wearing a smile that had even him reeling from it, just a bit.
But in the end, it couldn't even compare to Victor's smile and how it made him feel.
"I am. Thanks." He gave her a little wave as she walked off, leaning over to put on his skates.
Victor joined him on the bench moments later, and Yuuri could see the glimmer of his bright hair from his peripheries. Yuuri looked over as he laced his skates, seeing the way Victor tried to bite down a smile. He wasn't trying very hard.
"What was that?" Yuuri asked.
"Hm?" The innocent sound left Victor far too quickly, regarding Yuuri with so much internal excitement that it was a wonder Victor was containing it at this point.
Mila was skating around the rink now, and as she passed them she waved knowingly. Victor waved back, eyes returning to Yuuri. "Hurry! We teach you to skate now. We'll surprise Yurio before he shows up."
Yuuri wasn't really looking forward to skating. No, that was Victor's thing. He'd rather watch Victor, or Netflix, either sounded appealing right when he'd initially stepped onto the ice. And promptly fell.
It'd taken about ten minutes to skate Yuuri halfway around the rink.
"... Wuh- -OhSHI- -Victor, Victor I'm falling!"
"No you're not. I have you right here... show some dignity, will you." Victor, probably the most confident man in the world, was starting to feel a little embarrassed as he looked over his shoulder, his long hair cascading down below the beanie he wore. "I'll leave you here, I swear to god."
Yuuri's knees were wobbling as he held onto Victor's forearms, expression screwed in concentration as children at least ten years younger than him effortlessly skated past them. "If you leave me, I'll go home with Mila. Or- -NGAH- -" The terrified shout attracted more gazes, and more heat flooded Victor's cheeks. Yuuri continued to speak. "M-Maybe that's what you wanted, huh? To pawn me off on some pretty girl- -"
Victor legitimately stopped, giving Yuuri a look. "You think she's pretty?"
Yuuri knew he'd messed up, but he still tried to redeem himself, seeing as Victor was his only ticket off the ice. "No, she's not pretty, That was a slip."
"A Freudian Slip. You know, I'm much more prettier than she is." Victor released one of Yuuri's hands, barely keeping him steady with one. Yuuri clung onto it for dear life. "I don't doubt it for a second, Victor, I just- -sweet Jesus my ankles- -I already passed the test, didn't I?" His voice was even wobblier than his knees, and tears were stinging at the corner of his eyes. Victor's expression wavered, then hardened as he directed Yuuri against the rink's wall.
"Long live the King."
"Lion King?" Yuuri questioned, before he was being slapped over the wall. "Ack, WAIT!"
By the time Yurio and his grandfather made it to the rink, Victor and Yuuri had settled down and taught him properly. Yurio was already situated with his skates and the appropriate attire, completely fixated on the clumsy, but determined Japanese male on the ice. Yurio made a loud, happy sound and bounded toward the rink, unable to get his skates on fast enough. When he did, he was skating small circles around Yuuri, animatedly asking him questions about how he'd been able to skate and if Victor was bribing him with katsudon. The two held hands and skated as quickly as Yuuri could handle, which wasn't very quick, but it gave Victor a little break at least, and he skated toward the exit of the rink to grab something warm with Yurio's grandfather.
"I didn't get how difficult skating was, but... I mean for you and Victor... you guys are incredible." Yuuri mentioned, finding a little more balance as his younger friend helped him along. Yurio found everything about Yuuri's clumsiness to be endearing, and he liked playing the big, strong man that could protect Yuuri on the ice.
"I'm going to become a famous Olympic figure skater." He said it like it was undeniable fact, and Yuuri believed him. "Then I can take care of grandfather, and he won't have to work so hard. I will make him proud." Yurio squeezed the older male's hand, not noticing the hint of sadness Yuuri carried with them as they skated.
"You're a good boy, Yuri," he murmured softly, and Yurio grinned up at him, reveling in the praise. "Then you should let me take care of you too. You will come to all my recitals. And whenever your h... hands are cold, I will warm them up." He shyly averted his gaze and Yuuri happily laughed, feeling the bit of freedom that came with floating over the ice. It was something that he could get used to, now that he was steadily gaining control over it. "I like the sound of that."
"горячий шоколад, Yuri." They were close to the entrance now, Yurio's kind grandfather holding up the styrofoam cups with the warm treats waiting inside. Yurio dutifully made sure Yuuri made it safely off the ice, but Victor had since placed down their warm drinks to help him off, thwarting Yurio's chivalry.
Yuuri looked up, starting to take off his skates as he accepted the hot cocoa. "Thanks," he cheerfully expressed. Even though Victor still felt a little pissed about Yuuri calling another person 'pretty' when that adjective was reserved solely for him, he still thought the way Yuuri blew cool air over his hot drink was cute.