For the love of coffee

Coming out

A lot can happen in a year. Yuri drew in a breath, the cold slipped into his lungs. Yakov had tried! He tried to find a coach that could inspire Yuri. One that could handle his insecurities and get him back on the track of competing. The thing was, no known coach existed that could do that.

Three months after that skate, Viktor marched up to Yakov. He insisted that he would coach Yuri. He would take a year off of his own skating and show Yakov just what he could do. Yakov had kicked him out. Telling him to only come back when he was ready to skate again.

They had thrown the contract out. Viktor paid Yuri everything he owed him from the contract. They went back to the spa. Yuri moved back home. They practiced at, the nearly abandoned, ice castle. Viktor had been a very unorthodox coach.

Yuri smiled at that, lifting up his head. Often times, Viktor used sex or affection to get Yuri to do what he wanted. Yuri found it endearing, if a little egotistical of the skater. Yet, it had worked. Viktor kept up his training right alongside Yuri.

They ran on the beach every morning. Most of the time playing with Makkachin. Tossing balls or sticks for the dog to chase. She would bring them back to one or the other. Often, not the one that threw it in the first place.

Makkachin was something else. Yuri loved dogs, but since his childhood one passed, while he was overseas, he hadn't thought to ever get another. Somehow, as much as Viktor found his way into Yuri's heart, so had his dog. They were a packaged deal, one Yuri whole heartedly accepted.

The swish sounded in his ears as he glided away. The music was just background noise to the thought sin his head. Yuri had discovered that, if he took himself out of the competition, then, he didn't worry so much over failing.

Failing! The one thing Viktor could never teach him how to overcome. Why? Because the silver haired star, didn't remember ever failing at anything! His own mother, albeit mad about even talking to them, had admitted that baby Viktor, just stood up and walked one day. No crawling, no hand holding, he just did it. From there, he flourished.

Yuri spun about. The ice speeding past under his skates. He pressed down, his body rising to the tempo in the song. He spun, once, twice, he laughed to himself. This was suppose to be a triple, but he had enough air time. The fourth turn brought his body around perfectly.

Had he grown under Viktor's coaching? The simple answer was yes. Yuri wasn't sure if it was so much growing in his beloved sport, coming back to it, or if it was Viktor. His smile. Yuri figured it out Viktor had a smile for his fans. One you could see everywhere. It was plastered on rinks, on posters, shirts, hats, fan sights. That smile filled up the world. But there was another smile of Viktor's.

One Yuri only saw in the morning when he woke. Or at the rink after he did a difficult move that he wasn't sure he could still do. That smile, he had named the Yuri smile. Yuri only saw it, when it was just the two of them. It wasn't as bright, as charming or as flattering as the fan smile.

No, the Yuri smile was smaller, warmer. It lit Viktor's eyes with a glow he only saw during the use of his smile. This was the smile that Yuri loved to see. The softer side of the skater. It was perfect, and it was all for him.

Yuri slipped into a sit spin, twirling up into a dance sequence. He tapped his way across the ice. There were no judges, no audience. It was just Yuri and Viktor. That was how he saw it. He skated for the man who gave up his career, to get him back on the ice.

Yuri spun about. The sound of his skates filtering into his head. He recalled the day, Viktor came to him, contract in hand. Yuri was cleaning his lenses, getting ready to shoot a wedding at the spa. Viktor had knocked on their door.