Victor studies him, compliments him, and then adds one word, that makes Yuri freeze. A correction of something, that Yuri doesn’t even entirely have the time to question what might have torn or detached and how they have no time, because the next second, even as the images explode in his head, one after another after another, Victor is lowering himself to the ground, to a knee, making Yuri blink confused.
As long, slim pale fingers find his laces and something flutters, more than tightens in his chest. A confused slam of butterflies and new frisson of uncertainty, freezing his stomach, that shoves out the earlier images entirely, wondering if this is even proper, no one has ever, he hasn’t ever seen, even though he doesn’t flinch. As Victor ties his lace again, before looking up at him from there, and Victor’s face is so clear there’s no room for the uncertainty either.
There’s none looking down into Victor’s face as his hands fall back.
It makes him push everything down. Or maybe Victor does it. Just this look on his face. Makes Yuri feel this surge of certainty shoving everything else back. He can do this. He can. Victor believes he can. That he can do this, and he does, never stops talking about how Yuri is only getting better and better every time they step out on the ice together or apart. He can do this. He has to.
It's almost as cathartic, as it a sprint in his chest aiming to be heart attack, to finally step out onto the ice for their six-minute warm up after Crispino’s score goes up. Still no one within fifteen points at the end of Group 1, and he needs to see even that fifteen as something to beat. To blow past. Has to find it. Holds onto with a death grip.
Barely ten minutes and he'll be on. He pushes himself. He needs to use it to his advantage. He's the person closest to the warm up round. Without a pause that will allow any cool down of his muscles or body or mind, before he is performing. He pushes himself hard. Harder. Iced air whipping his face. Ruffling against his cheeks, his ears, the skirt on his costume.
Complex turns. The combination with the toe loop. Speeding into his more complicated footwork. Even if it's not as fast as he wants, or as broadly expansive as it will be, when not sharing the ice.
It's only seconds, it can't have been more, when the buzzer sounds again. Choking itself in Yuri's throat, as he heads for the gate with Yuri and JJ. Six minutes gone in a blink, and in half that from now he'll already be done and someone else will be on the ice. It's hardly really the pass of a minute to step off, so the everyone is officially off, and then to wait for his name. Not long enough to put his skate guards back on even. Just long enough to stand still so as not to damage his blades, feeling his heart thunder through his whole chest, pounding in his ears.
Before it's time to step back on the ice. Body a stillness that feels a single breath from shaking all over. From needing to escape into a twitching, telling, movement, requiring him to be even more still. Which only makes all of it tumble tighter, harder, faster as he comes to a gliding stop on the ice across the rink wall from Victor. While the cheering from the crowd swells loudly into a repeating chant it takes Yuri a second to place.
no subject
Victor studies him, compliments him, and then adds one word, that makes Yuri freeze. A correction of something, that Yuri doesn’t even entirely have the time to question what might have torn or detached and how they have no time, because the next second, even as the images explode in his head, one after another after another, Victor is lowering himself to the ground, to a knee, making Yuri blink confused.
As long, slim pale fingers find his laces and something flutters, more than tightens in his chest. A confused slam of butterflies and new frisson of uncertainty, freezing his stomach, that shoves out the earlier images entirely, wondering if this is even proper, no one has ever, he hasn’t ever seen, even though he doesn’t flinch. As Victor ties his lace again, before looking up at him from there, and Victor’s face is so clear there’s no room for the uncertainty either.
There’s none looking down into Victor’s face as his hands fall back.
It makes him push everything down. Or maybe Victor does it. Just this look on his face. Makes Yuri feel this surge of certainty shoving everything else back. He can do this. He can. Victor believes he can. That he can do this, and he does, never stops talking about how Yuri is only getting better and better every time they step out on the ice together or apart. He can do this. He has to.
It's almost as cathartic, as it a sprint in his chest aiming to be heart attack, to finally step out onto the ice for their six-minute warm up after Crispino’s score goes up. Still no one within fifteen points at the end of Group 1, and he needs to see even that fifteen as something to beat. To blow past. Has to find it. Holds onto with a death grip.
Barely ten minutes and he'll be on. He pushes himself. He needs to use it to his advantage. He's the person closest to the warm up round. Without a pause that will allow any cool down of his muscles or body or mind, before he is performing. He pushes himself hard. Harder. Iced air whipping his face. Ruffling against his cheeks, his ears, the skirt on his costume.
Complex turns. The combination with the toe loop. Speeding into his more complicated footwork.
Even if it's not as fast as he wants, or as broadly expansive as it will be, when not sharing the ice.
It's only seconds, it can't have been more, when the buzzer sounds again. Choking itself in Yuri's throat, as he heads for the gate with Yuri and JJ. Six minutes gone in a blink, and in half that from now he'll already be done and someone else will be on the ice. It's hardly really the pass of a minute to step off, so the everyone is officially off, and then to wait for his name. Not long enough to put his skate guards back on even. Just long enough to stand still so as not to damage his blades, feeling his heart thunder through his whole chest, pounding in his ears.
Before it's time to step back on the ice. Body a stillness that feels a single breath from shaking all over. From needing to escape into a twitching, telling, movement, requiring him to be even more still. Which only makes all of it tumble tighter, harder, faster as he comes to a gliding stop on the ice across the rink wall from Victor. While the cheering from the crowd swells loudly into a repeating chant it takes Yuri a second to place.
Victor’s name.