Work Text:
It all started because Yuri made a friend, as children are wont to do. The rink is bustling with more activity these days given the shift into the winter months, and Learn-to-Skate courses have started up once more. With the uptick in visitors, it was no wonder little Yuri found himself inserted in the young students that suddenly swarmed the rink after school.
Yuuri had worried at first that the little one would be more territorial or upset by the invasion, but that couldn’t have been further from the truth. While he had at first been wary of others taking up the ice - and perhaps a little miffed when they got in his way - he was more curious than ever before.
He eventually approached the other children once they were given their ten minutes of freetime and suddenly he had more friends than his parents could count.
Yuri dragged one such friend over to Yuuri and Yakov one day with a broad smile.
“Daddy! This is my friend Luca, I met him on the ice, he’s in skating classes too.” Yuri skidded to a stop by the rink wall.
“Oh yeah?” Yuuri asked with a chuckle.
“Uh-huh! He says he’s going to competition in a month, can I go too!?” Yuri asked, bouncing on his skates in such a way that Yuuri instinctively reached out to steady him.
Yakov let out a bark of a laugh while Yuuri struggled to find an answer.
“You… you want to compete?”
“Yeah! I wanna go!” Yuri reiterated.
“Well… uh… we’ll see honey,” Yuuri settled on as an answer.
“You should come to the competition in a superhero costume too, Yuri! You can be Batman! He’s so cool,” Luca told him with a laugh.
“But I thought you were gonna be Batman,” Yuri said, skating backwards from the wall.
“We can both be Batman!” Luca gasped. “Or I could be Batman from the tv show and you can be the Batman from the Lego Movie.”
“I don’t want to be a lego person,” Yuri scowled at the idea. “But I do wanna wear a pretty costume!”
Luca chuckled, “Come on, I bet I can slide farther than you!”
“Nuh-uh!” Yuri chased after his new friend.
“Yuri be careful!” Yuuri called after his son in a fruitless attempt.
“So, should I be getting you sign-up forms?” Yakov asked.
Yuuri had a million reasons to say no - he wanted to say no so desperately. He doesn’t want his son to face competitions so young, he doesn’t want their little boy feeling like he has to do anything simply because his fathers do it, and more than anything he doesn’t want his sweet baby boy to grow up too fast.
He had hoped Yuri would forget all about competition - he’s six, afterall, and he’s particularly flighty about his opinions these days. Alas, the child asked him at least three times a day for a whole week. When Viktor first caught wind of the child’s interest in skating he almost immediately agreed to signing him up. One lethal look from Yuuri silenced him on the matter.
It didn’t take much longer to wear them down. Soon they find themselves ushering the little one onto the ice with the sign up forms in hand. Yuuri does not like the shit eating grin Yakov is wearing when he and Viktor hand them off.
“Welcome to the rest of your lives,” Yakov snickers as he thumbs through the forms.
Then, Viktor groans, “Don’t say it, Yakov. Please, don’t make me beg.”
“Say what, Vitya?”
“Please, do not, under any circumstances, have him do that godforsaken bumblebee piece.” Viktor grimaces further, and Yuuri laughs in response.
“It’s a good piece. If you find your old costume he might even fit in it.”
“No,” Viktor says sternly. “Absolutely not. I do not want my child starting his skating career in my old costume!”
“Can’t we just choreograph something for him? His piece has to be what? Two minutes?” Yuuri asks.
“At his age? Are you nuts?” Yakov balks at them. “Try 30 to 45 seconds, max.”
Yuuri’s jaw drops. “Are you sure? I don’t remember that…”
“Well, it’s been a few decades and a few countries since either of you competed in non-qualifiers,” Yakov points out. “The rules are different for the little ones.”
“We’re not that old,” Viktor claims.
Yakov rolls his eyes. “Anyway, you two are his parents, need I remind you. You’re going to be happy with whatever I give him because I am his coach.”
Viktor pouts momentarily. “He’s not doing the bumblebee piece.”
Yakov groans. “Fine. Now, you have nationals to prepare for so get on it!”
“And I’m picking his costume!” Viktor backpedals towards the gym.
Yakov shakes his head as his problem leaves for the ice.
“So… um… do you think he’ll do well? Yuri’s so-”
“He will be fine. He’s been asking me to do choreography for months now, it will be good for him.”
“But I don’t want him doing anything too hard… don’t let him do slides or go backwards or-”
“Don’t you have a private with Ciao Ciao to get to?”
“Shit!”
Lilia ends up doing Yuri’s choreography, a sweet little Nutcracker piece that is absolutely darling. Yuuri is still worried about all of this and Viktor is a little gungho, but the little one is thoroughly pleased.
Now they’re trying on his costume. It may be the most darling thing Yuuri has ever witnessed; his bedazzled little puff-sleeved shirt needs to be adjusted but he is absolutely beaming as Viktor safety pins the new hem.
“I’m so pretty, papa!” Yuri flaps his free hand as he looks in the mirror again.
“You are, baby,” Yuuri has to agree.
“I’m glad you like it!” Viktor grins at him.
Viktor’s transition from wary parent to stage-dad was so fast Yuuri nearly got whiplash. Sure, it nearly gave him an aneurysm when Viktor called their costume designer to whip up one for Yuri. She had five sketches to them within the hour and the order had been placed before the end of the day. He’s six, for god sake, he does not need a professional costume!
“Am I gonna be the prettiest boy at the competition?” Yuri asks.
“Of course you will,” Viktor agrees.
“But it’s okay if you see other people’s costumes and think they’re pretty too,” Yuuri interjects. “Remember, this is all about having fun, right?”
“Yeah!”
“Hold still, baby,” Viktor reminds him.
“I’m gonna have the most fun ever,” Yuri says quieter, almost a little sheepishly.
“And it’s okay if you don’t have fun,” Yuuri says.
“But you will,” Viktor insists.
The tension of the room is quickly interrupted by the ringing of Viktor’s phone. Yuuri accepts the facetime call with a pinched smile.
“Hi Chris,” he greets.
“Uncle Chris!” Yuri gasps.
“It seems I got the wrong Yuri,” Chris chuckles. “Where’s my nephew?”
“Daddy, daddy, daddy! I want to show Uncle Chris my costume!” Yuri tries to stay still for Viktor but is clearly bursting with excitement.
Yuuri turns the camera around to show Yuri’s little costume to Chris.
“Oh my god he’s so cute I’m going to cry,” Chris gasps.
“Do you like it? Papa helped me pick it.”
“It’s beautiful, buddy, you look great.”
“Thank you.” Yuri’s smile is so bright and so huge that Yuuri melts a little bit. “I wish you were coming to see me skate, I come see you all the time.”
Yuuri almost rolls his eyes; it’s not like Yuri knows what it means that Chris is favored to win at Europeans that same weekend. To the six-year-old it’s ‘just another competition and Uncle Chris should call out sick.’ Which were, in fact, his exact words.
“I’m sorry I won’t be at your competition, but your daddy and papa are going to send me a video. And your grandpa is going to be there, right?”
“Yeah, he’s coming on Thursday and he’s staying with us for two whole weeks and it’s going to be so much fun.”
Viktor helps the little boy out of the top so the child can get some of his energy out. As Yuri babbles at Chris, Yuuri finds himself falling back into his anxieties about all of this.
Yakov had proudly told Yuuri that the little one was the youngest in his division (not that Yuuri could keep all the divisions straight he absolutely could not), which only prompted a spiral of worry. What if the older kids were mean to him? What if he felt like he wasn’t good enough to skate in that division? What if he falls on the ice? What if he forgets his routine? What if he cries because of the pressure? Yuuri’s done all of the above before and there’s no way in hell he wants to put his own son through that.
Yuri interrupts his father’s thoughts by pushing the phone into his hands and demanding he film him doing a headstand. Chris is cackling; Yuuri is not entertaining that.
Nikolai flies into town three days before the competition. The little one is ecstatic and Yuuri is relieved to have some weight off his shoulders. At least with Dida around Yuuri and Viktor can focus on the clerical parts of a competition.
Viktor has printed and laminated a checklist for the morning of; Yuuri packed snacks and a full-to-bursting first aid kit. Unfortunately, Yuuri also feels it’s time for a very important discussion:
“I’m not sure you should go,” Yuuri confides in his husband.
“What do you mean? Of course I’m going! I can’t miss my son’s first competition!” Viktor gasps at the idea.
“Vitya, I know this is exciting and a huge deal for us, but Saturday needs to be about him. What if someone recognizes you?”
“If they recognize me they will definitely recognize you too!” Viktor claims.
“You’re the reigning world champion and a two time Olympic champion - I’m just your husband,” Yuuri claims.
“You’re more than that and you know it,” Viktor sighs.
“Still… I think we should spare Yuri’s feelings, we can’t steal his spotlight.”
“I have a contingency plan, just for this!” Viktor announces, sauntering over to one of the many bags they’ve packed for the weekend. He throws on a pair of glasses and a beanie, and turns around with a flourish.
“Vitya, what the hell are you doing?” Yuuri asks.
“This is my disguise! Do you like it?” Viktor asks in return. “I’ll be wearing jeans and a sweater too so nobody will suspect it’s me.”
“Are you serious? Sweetheart, putting on glasses doesn’t change that it’s still you.” Yuuri points out, exasperated beyond measure.
“Yes, but nobody is expecting me to be at a mini’s competition at the height of the professional season so nobody will think twice.”
“But-”
“And we signed up Yuri with his grandfather’s last name so it’s not like that will raise any red flags.”
“Vitya-”
“You simply worry too much, love.” Viktor puts his hands on Yuuri’s shoulders. “It will be all about him, you’ll see. And we’ll be in full parent-mode, nobody is looking for world class athletes at an event like this.”
Yuuri looks unconvinced. “And if someone does recognize you?”
“If someone recognizes us , we will simply tell them that we’re there to support our son.”
“I-... I don’t want people thinking we’re forcing our adopted son into skating. That’s a bad look, not to mention completely untrue.”
“Anyone who sees Yura on that ice will know he’s there for himself and no one else. If you want I can even tell people we tried to talk him out of it.”
Yuuri rolls his eyes as Viktor kisses him.
“It will be fine.”
Yuuri spends the remainder of the lead up into competition day oscillating wildly between ‘this is the cutest damn thing I’ve ever seen’ and ‘I cannot believe I’m allowing this to happen’.
While it’s true that Yuri is a very different child than Yuuri was, kids are kids, and Yuri has already had so much of his childhood taken from him. The idea of pushing him into skating when he’s so young is really upsetting to Yuuri. More than anything, Yuuri remembers - vividly - how terrifying it can be to perform by oneself for the first time.
There’s no telling how Yuri will react until it happens and Yuuri knows that. But he also can’t shake the feeling that this won’t go well.
All he can think about is last year at the Junior World Championships when the couple had been asked to make an appearance and host part of the event. Yuuri still isn’t sure what exactly happened, but Yuri had a total meltdown and made it impossible for them both to stay. Yuuri had to take the little one back to the hotel and even then he fussed and cried for almost an hour. What if something like that happens again? Sure, part of him knows that kids have bad days and good days, but he really really doesn’t want to deal with that again.
Competition day is finally upon them. Yuuri realizes his hands are trembling as he drinks his tea and subsequently spills some of it on the counter. It’s early - stupid early - the rink is over an hour away and Yuri’s warm up is at ten. But before he can go down the spiral of their schedule, plotting out the seconds until they’re officially running late, Yuri tugs on his pants.
“Daddy, are we gonna do my hair now?” Yuri asks impatiently.
“In a minute, sunny boy, eat your breakfast,” Yuuri prompts him.
“I’m not hungry, I wanna do my hair,” Yuri insists.
“If you don’t eat we can’t go to the competition,” Yuuri tells him blandly, lifting the little one into his seat at the table.
“Can you do my hair while I eat?” Yuri asks.
Yuuri spoons an extra helping of fruit onto the child’s plate. “I’ll go ask papa. Eat.”
“Do you know where his warmup boots are, lovey? They’re not in his skate bag and I did not move them last night,” Viktor asks, poking his head into the kitchen.
“Check his closet,” Yuuri says with a sigh.
“Papa, we can’t leave until my hair is done,” Yuri tells him matter-of-factly.
“That’s right Сонечко, but you need to eat your breakfast first.”
“Ask him, daddy!”
“What do we say?” Yuuri prompts.
“Please ask him?”
“Ask me what?” Viktor approaches the table and moves Yuri’s juice from the edge of the table.
“He wants me to do his hair now,” Yuuri explains.
“By all means!” Viktor plants a kiss on Yuri’s head and then one on Yuuri’s cheek.
“Can I have ribbons in my hair?” Yuri asks.
“I’ll see what I can do, but you have to keep eating. Okay?”
“Okay.” The little one rolls his eyes as he resumes his meal.
Yuuri starts to brush through the fine locks of Yuri’s hair; he briefly remembers how thin and wispy it used to be. While Yuri’s hair was once a cool light blonde, it has recently given way to a yellower hue. It’s longer now too. Yuuri loves brushing and styling the little one’s hair and Yuri loves how pretty it looks. Yuuri can’t help but notice how much has changed since Yuri’s arrival - he’s bursting with life and so confident now. It’s beautiful and daunting how fast kids change and evolve; Yuuri constantly finds himself torn between pride and grief about it.
Before he can get too sad about his little boy growing up, Nikolai enters the kitchen to distract the boy further.
In the end, half of Yuri’s breakfast goes uneaten and they’re on the road ten minutes late. All-in-all, not a bad first time.
Yuri spends the whole ride talking to Dida, which is a relief because Yuuri is still shaking and his anxiety medication has only seemed to take the immediate edge off. Viktor holds his hand at every stoplight, but Yuuri makes him stop once the snow really starts coming down.
When they arrive at the rink it is pure, unadulterated chaos. There are so many little ones racing around in varying stages of costumes and makeup; Yuri clings to Yuuri’s hand as he takes it all in. There’s a bake sale, a merch table, a woman whose sole job seems to be gluing rhinestones to costumes and faces, and of course, a little girl finishing up her routine to Lion King. Why is it always Lion King?
“I’ll go get us a seat, I’ll see you in a bit, Yura.” Nikolai kisses the boy’s cheek before walking off towards the bleachers.
“Let’s go register you, Сонечко,” Viktor says, petting the little one’s head.
“I think we should wait for Yakov,” Yuuri says, squeezing Yuri’s fingers reassuringly.
“No, I can do it, we just need to find the table-”
“Vitya,” Yuuri gives his husband a pointed look as he hoists their son into his arms. “You doing okay, baby?”
Yuri nods slowly, almost dazed as he watches all the commotion. “There’s a lot of people here, daddy.”
“Oh honey, it’s okay, I know there’s a lot of kids here. Do you want to find some place quiet?” Yuuri asks.
Yuri continues to stare in awe as a little girl in neon green takes the ice. “She’s pretty, daddy.”
“Yeah, she is,” Yuuri agrees.
“Are you feeling nervous, Сонечко?” Viktor asks, running a comforting hand on his back.
Yuuri is torn between being upset that Viktor would speak on their son’s shift in attitude (putting a name on the feeling can only make it worse!) and feeling appreciative that his worries were not in vain.
“No,” Yuri claims, though he does cuddle closer to his dad.
“Are you sure? It’s okay if you are,” Yuuri encourages him.
“I’m not nervous,” Yuri claims again, voice still quieter than they have become accustomed to.
“Let’s go find Mr. Yakov, huh?” Viktor offers. Yuuri nods, kissing Yuri’s cheek as they navigate through the rink. It’s much smaller than Viktor and Yuuri are used to, smaller and more homegrown than any competition they’ve been to in years.
Viktor, despite all his bluster, looks deeply overwhelmed by the lack of structure. Given his own flighty nature, Viktor thrives when his environment is organized, but this is the opposite of organized.
“There you are, you’re late,” Yakov scolds Viktor.
Viktor pouts. “There was no parking.”
“You could have dropped him off,” Yakov claims.
“How’s our little prince, hm?” Lillia approaches Yuri.
“I think he’s overstimulated,” Yuuri says.
“Pft, nonsense, are we excited to perform, Малиш?” Yuri mutters something to her in Ukrainian and she laughs.
“What was that?” Yuuri asks.
“Nothing, he’s just excited,” she assures him.
“He doesn’t seem very excited,” Yuuri says. “Sweet boy, are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah, daddy,” Yuri nods, kicking his legs a little. “Can I get down now?”
“Alright, I’ll take him to check in,” Yakov says as Yuuri puts his son down.
“Well, we’re all going,” Viktor says.
“No, you’re going to the stands, I’m taking him to check in and then to the dressing rooms.”
“We still have like half an hour until warmups!” Viktor complains.
“Vitya, you’re a parent today, go sit with the other parents,” Lillia says sternly.
“But-”
“Yuri, say goodbye to daddy and papa so we can get your skates on,” Yakov encourages the little one.
Yuri looks between his parents and coaches for a minute, seemingly at a loss for what to do.
Viktor sighs as he kneels in front of his son. “Okay Сонечко, you go with Mr. Yakov and do your best alright? You have fun and don’t forget to keep your chest up in your spiral.”
“I know, Papa,” Yuri says as he hugs his dad.
“I love you so much, you’ll do amazing.” Viktor kisses him one last time before passing him off to Yuuri.
“No matter what, we’re so proud of you and it’s okay if you don’t like competing. We don’t have to do this again if you don’t have fun,” Yuuri says.
“He’s going to have plenty of fun,” Yakov scowls at Yuuri.
“I love you angel.” Yuuri squeezes his baby one last time before Lillia and Yakov each take one of his hands.
“It’s alright lovey, don’t cry.” Viktor pats his husband’s back.
“Our little boy looked so scared, Vitya, maybe this was a bad idea.” Yuuri turns into his husband’s arms once the trio has turned the corner.
“He’ll be fine, he’s going to enjoy himself.”
“What if he doesn’t?”
“Then we will cross that bridge if we get to it.” Viktor winces at the thought. He’s had his fair share of worries about Yuri enjoying the sport. It’s such a huge part of their lives that he doesn’t know what they’ll do if their son hates competing. He’s done everything he can to ignore that possibility but Yuuri is unable to do so.
“I don’t want him to grow up yet,” Yuuri admits.
“Me either…” Viktor agrees. “But for now he’s still our little precious boy who’s just discovered a new hobby. Let’s… let’s have fun with that while we can.”
Yuuri wipes his eyes and nods. “Let’s go find our seats.”
Viktor nods too. “Have you noticed that none of these other parents seem to have a handle on their kids?”
“Vitya!” Yuuri snickers. “That’s rude.”
“It’s true, look!” Viktor points towards the accessibility ramp where several kids are flipping themselves around the railing, which wobbles unsteadily.
“Oh, I can’t watch,” Yuuri grimaces.
“Also why does the music sound so bad? All the volume levels are wrong… And some of these kids’ skate guards-”
“Do not go off on the quality of their equipment, they’re kids,” Yuuri laughs.
“Just because they’re little doesn’t mean they can’t have good skates. Or at least skates with laces and not buckles. And what the hell is a Snowplow Sam?”
Yuuri ignores that as they climb the bleachers towards Nikolai; it seems that Phichit has also cleared his schedule to attend.
“Hey guys!” Phichit waves at them.
“Hey, you made it.” Yuuri hugs his best friend.
“Of course I did, I wouldn’t miss my nephew’s first competition for the world,” Phichit chuckles. “His group is up after this one.”
“Did you get a program?” Viktor asks, gesturing to the booklet on his seat.
“Sure did, my ‘close friends’ on Instagram are deeply invested in this saga,” Phichit tells them. “Speaking of, smile you two! I figured you’d be too nervous to remember to take photos so consider me your unofficial photographer!”
Viktor wraps an arm around Yuuri’s shoulder and they both smile at the camera. Phichit then encourages Nikolai to join them before allowing them to get situated on the bleachers.
Phichit checks a few of the photos, then glances up at them. “Hey, Yuuri, no offense, but have you been crying?”
Yuuri gives him a dirty look in response.
“Aw bud-”
“We’re not talking about this,” Yuuri insists as the current group finishes their warm up time.
“Fine… But you know what would make you feel better?”
“What?” Yuuri asks.
“They have those crappy rink nachos you love.” Phichit’s lilted tone makes Yuuri snort. “I’m going to go grab some. Anyone want anything?”
“I’ll take a hotdog,” Viktor says, raising his hand.
“Did you get the flowers, Nikolai?” Yuuri asks as they settle in.
“I got him individual roses from each of us and a bouquet that’s bigger than him,” Nikolai confirms, moving the florals down the row a bit to make space for them. “Phichit brought some flowers too and this squisher toy.”
Yuuri shakes his head at the large kitten plush Phichit insisted on bringing. “I told him we don’t throw toys at events like these.”
“I think this is just a gift, he was very excited about it.”
“He really doesn’t need more stuffed animals,” Yuuri smirks.
“You can never have too many stuffed animals at his age,” Viktor insists.
The three of them applaud the next skater as they take to the ice and Viktor narrows his gaze at her.
“We…”
“What was that?” Yuri asks.
“We were never that bad right?” Viktor asks quietly.
“Viktor! That’s so out of pocket.” Yuuri taps his shoulder.
“What? I’m just saying.”
“This is their hobby, not their career.” Yuuri shakes his head. Honestly, the little girl can’t be older than eight and she’s doing pretty well if a little wobbly. And yes, Yuuri’s critical eye sees flaws in every missed beat and choppy second of footwork - but it’s cute and she’s giggling on the ice clearly having the time of her life. God Yuuri hopes their son has that much fun today.
Phichit quickly returns with the gloriously shitty nachos, hotdogs, and drinks. Yuri may have had his breakfast, but his parents most certainly did not.
Before they know it, the next group is upon them. There are only five boys in this category, which is a bit sad, but Yuuri and Viktor cheer for their son when his name is announced. Yuri looks deeply focused as he runs through his elements but he flashes a smile at Luca when he skids past him.
Phichit is quick to the draw, snapping photos and taking videos.
“My god he’s so cute I can’t stand it,” Phichit whimpers. “Look at his little costume and his little smile.”
“I know, I want to squeeze him,” Yuuri agrees.
The little ones’ three minutes are up faster than Yuuri had anticipated and soon the ice is cleared for the first skater’s skill test. Yuuri actually adores the skill tests the kids have to do; he thinks it’s good practice and a nice benchmark to see how far they’re progressing. Viktor thinks it’s artless and tacky to do a test like this at a competition. Yuuri has told him, multiple times, that competitions are basically glorified tests… the way Viktor clutched his pearls at that assertion still makes Yuuri laugh.
Yuuri can see his son bouncing on the sidelines with Yakov; the older coach is clearly trying to get him to focus. Yuuri does not envy him, not one bit.
Yuri’s compulsory test goes flawlessly; the little one is focused and his form is impeccable. Yuuri doesn’t know why but a huge weight is lifted off his shoulders when Yuri successfully shows off his lunges - he’s pretty sure that’s a bonus skill, not that it matters…
The only time the child fumbles is getting off the ice; he tries to hop up with Yakov’s help but trips over his toepick. Yuuri gasps at the sight of his son disappearing back into the dressing room.
“Do you think he’s okay!?” Yuuri asks.
Viktor puts a hand on Yuuri’s leg, “Don’t worry, he’s fine. He does that almost every time he gets off the ice.”
“But usually I’m there to-”
“Yusha, he’s fine,” Viktor insists. “And he did an incredible job out there.”
“Yeah he did! He was perfect!” Phichit says.
“I’m going to text Yakov to see if he’s okay.” Yuuri whips out his phone and shoots off the message.
“To be honest, I have no idea what I just watched, is it over?” Nikolai asks.
Viktor goes into a very long winded explanation of the skills Yuri just performed (and why it’s so spectacular that he can already do them at his age). Yuuri admires the way that Viktor is so unabashedly proud of their son and his accomplishments. His husband is a harsh critic - god forbid he ever get into judging competitions - so to see him so genuinely proud of their little boy makes his heart beat quicken.
The rest of the benchmarks go by quickly, then suddenly Viktor is getting a call.
“Chris! I didn’t expect to see your lovely face today,” Viktor greets him.
“Well, I was checking the time and figured that our baby hasn’t gone on yet.”
Phichit jumps into frame. “Chris, are you in the kiss and cry?!”
“Yeah and?”
“Oh my god,” Yuuri chuckles, leaning into the frame. Chris is sweating and red faced but grinning just as much. “You’re insane.”
“Just tell me the little one hasn’t performed yet,” Chris begs.
“He hasn’t,” Yuuri tells him.
“Good.”
“Hopefully he goes on before your scores come out,” Viktor snickers.
“Is he soon?”
“There’s one more piece before him.” Phichit swipes the phone. “Guess I’m on double photographer duty!”
“I’m nervous again,” Yuuri says as they settle in for the artistic portion of the boys competition.
“Me too, I hope he remembers to smile,” Viktor admits.
“What’s there to be nervous about?” Nikolai asks.
“We just want him to do well and have fun,” Viktor says.
“That’s nothing to be nervous about,” Nikolai chuckles. “He’s done so well already, just him being here… that’s a miracle on its own. Everything else is just a bonus.”
Yuuri feels his chest tighten at the thought. It’s true, their son’s very existence is truly a miracle. Him being here, able to walk let alone skate is a gift…
“Next to skate: Yuri Plisetsky!”
Yuuri starts crying the second he sees his son out on the ice; he hears Viktor sniffling beside him as well when the music begins.
He’s simply perfect; his skills are well executed and he smiles the entire time. Yuuri and Viktor are out of their seats the second he strikes his final pose. It is only 39 seconds of a piece, but it is 39 seconds they will never forget.
“Wow they really are crying,” Chris chuckles on the other end of the phone.
“I mean, I am too, man,” Phichit chuckles, putting his phone on his lap to wipe his eyes.
“I can take that back. Have you gotten your scores yet?” Viktor asks.
“No but my coach is yelling at me to hang up,” Chris pouts.
“We’ll watch your short tonight, good luck with your free skate tomorrow!” Viktor waves as he hangs up the call.
“Let's go get our boy.” Yuuri packs up their things to go grab their son.
Yuri is jumping circles around Yakov when the group arrives; he’s replaying every single move he performed for what must be the umpteenth time given Yakov’s empty responses.
“Yura, Сонечко!” Viktor calls.
“Daddy! Papa!” Yuri races into Yuuri’s open arms. “Did you see it? Did you see it?”
“You were amazing out there, angel!” Yuuri kisses his cheeks.
“You were so pretty and your lunges were perfect.” Viktor takes his turn with him.
“Yeah! And I didn’t fall, and I did my turns good, and I ended with the music on time, and- Hi Uncle Peachy!” Yuuri puts the rambunctious child down so that he can barrel into his uncle’s legs.
“Hi kiddo, you did so good.”
“You saw it too!?”
“I sure did! And your Uncle Chris watched it through the phone.”
“He did!?”
“Yep, and look; Daddy and Papa got you flowers.” Yuuri holds out the bouquet.
“Wow Daddy, they’re so pretty.” Yuri takes the flowers, absolutely glowing under their praises. “Thank you.”
“You’re so welcome.” Viktor kisses the top of the boy’s head.
“Dida! Did you see!?” While Yuri buzzes between his entourage, Viktor looks to Yakov.
“So, what now?”
“Scores should be out within the hour, try not to get competitive,” Yakov says.
“How could I be competitive when he’s so happy?” Viktor gestures to the little boy who is cuddling his brand new stuffed animal before assaulting Phichit with a hug.
“Just remember that in a few years when you want to rip your hair out teaching him combination spins.”
Viktor pouts at his coach, but only for a moment. “Was he good while you were waiting?”
“He was nervous. One of the kids in the locker room was crying, but Lillia distracted him with a barre routine,” Yakov explains.
“And he wasn’t scared to go out there?”
“Of course not; that kid’s a drama queen and loves attention. He was excited to perform just like his papas, he told me fifteen times.” Viktor laughs in response to that.
“Vitya, come take a photo with us,” Yuuri calls him over.
Everyone is wrangled into a photo with the little one, different combinations of coach and parents until Yuri gets restless and wants to run around with Luca.
Yuuri is shockingly calm when he hears that scores are posted. For perhaps the first time in his life, the score simply doesn’t matter. His son is having the time of his life playing with kids his age who love skating as much as he does; it’s nothing short of blissful.
So when Viktor gives Yuuri a look of shock, Yuuri doesn’t know what to make of it.
“What?” Yuuri asks, suddenly concerned.
“He got first.”
“What? No! No he did not!” Yuuri sprints over to the bulletin board and slaps a hand over his mouth when he sees Yuri’s name in the gold slot. Right beside it reads his superlative ‘Biggest Smile’.
Yuuri is crying all over again as he hugs his husband; Viktor squeezes him tight in response.
“I haven’t cried over a medal like this in years,” Viktor sniffles.
“I have,” Yuuri chuckles, trying to wipe his eyes of tears. “Does he know?”
“Does he know what?” Phichit approaches.
“Yuri got first in his category!” Viktor practically screams it.
“Way to go, little bud!” Phichit claps, running over to the board to snap a photo for Chris.
“Yura!” Viktor shamelessly interrupts his game. “Yura baby, come here.”
Yuri is less than thrilled to be pulled away from his game, but luckily some of the other parents are calling their kids away at the same time.
“What?” Yuri asks when he reaches his papa.
“You got first, Сонечко.” Viktor crouches to Yuri’s eye level.
“First what?” The little one cocks his head to the side.
“You got first place in the competition,” Yuuri explains further.
“What’s that mean?”
“It means you won.” Viktor holds out his hands as if that’s a big reveal.
“I won?” Yuri asks with wide eyes.
“You did, congratulations!” Yuuri chuckles.
“Does that mean I get my own medal?”
“You sure do,” Viktor laughs.
“Yay!” Yuri claps. “Does that mean I was the prettiest?”
“You were, baby.” Yuuri lifts the boy into his arms. “I am so so so proud of you.”
“When do I get my medal?” Yuri asks.
“I don’t know, let’s ask Mr. Yakov.” Viktor glances around for the coach in question.
Yakov is sitting having a chat with Nikolai, Lillia, and Ciao Ciao. Yakov is unsurprised to hear his little protege has won his category but he does rub it in for Ciao Ciao just a touch.
The entourage go to the ‘medal ceremony’ which is really just a makeshift podium with a photo background. Yuuri cries again watching his baby receive his first medal; Phichit is also in tears but that is beside the point.
They take altogether too many photos - even though Yuuri is certain he will remember this moment for the rest of his life, he wants to make sure it’s properly recorded. And all is going well until Phichit gasps out of nowhere.
“What?” Yuuri asks pointedly not a second later.
“Um… I would like to formally apologize in advance-”
“What did you do?” Yuuri asks again.
“Soooo… I accidentally posted one of your photos to my real story instead of my private one.”
“Phichit you did NOT!” Yuuri gasps, rushing to Instagram. He flips through all of Phichit’s stories and groans when he sees that the last slide is, in fact, public… and posted twenty minutes ago.
At least it’s one of Yuuri’s favorite photos; the little one is held in Yuuri’s arms and his face is squished as he receives a kiss on either cheek from both of his fathers. His precious smile is enough to melt Yuuri’s heart for a moment before he’s back to being frustrated.
“Take that down, now,” Yuuri says.
“Oh it chief… but we uh… may want to make ourselves scarce… I have already been informed that my geo-tags were on,” Phichit says.
“Goddamn it,” Yuuri groans.
“Sorry!” Phichit calls after Yuuri as he power walks towards his family.
“I think it’s time to go, guys,” Yuuri says. “Do you know where your shoes are, sweetie?”
“Um… Mr. Yakov has them,” Yuri answers.
“Good, let’s go get them huh?” Yuri sets off in a sprint towards the locker room.
“Excuse me, are you Viktor Nikiforov?” A young girl no older than fourteen approaches. Viktor looks conflicted for a minute as he tries to decide how to answer.
“I-... uh-”
“Is that really Viktor? What’s he doing here?”
“Are you dumb? His kid is here!”
“We’re leaving, now.” Yuuri pulls his husband away from the growing cluster of pre-teens.
Yuri has his shoes in hand when Yuuri scoops him up.
“Is there a back exit?” Yuuri asks the coach.
“I’m sorry?”
“My husband has been found out and I would love to not get pap-ed.” Yuuri adjusts the little boy in his arms.
“I’ll get Viktor out, you get the boy changed,” Yakov sighs.
“Thank you.” Yuuri quickly gets the little one out of his costume and into his street clothes. He hears the buzz about the world champion being somewhere in the building but he is relieved to find his husband out front with the car waiting for him.
“Your disguise didn’t work,” Yuuri says humorlessly as he buckles his son into his car seat.
“I know that honey, you were right.”
“Daddy can I wear my medal to dinner?” Yuri asks once they’re on the road.
“Sure, sweetie,” Yuuri answers with a laugh.
“And can I wear it to Papa’s competition too?”
“Of course you can.” Viktor smiles in the rearview mirror.
“And to school?”
“I think that breaks dress code, Yura,” Yuuri responds.
“What about to the rink?”
They spend the next twenty minutes fielding very similar questions, all the way to the restaurant. Phichit joins them for the meal and offers to pay as compensation for outing the couple’s privacy. Nikolai has an especially good time reliving all of Yuri’s favorite moments from the day, even if Yuuri and Viktor have heard about his one foot glides more than enough for one lifetime.
It’s a relief when they arrive home and find their son absolutely passed out in his car seat. Yuuri picks him up and coos at him when the little one whines in his sleep. Viktor bids Nikolai goodnight before helping Yuuri get the child into bed. He cards his fingers through Yuri’s braid-crimped hair and kisses his forehead.
“Come on, our little angel needs his rest.” Yuuri tugs on Viktor’s sleeve.
“Our little angel,” Viktor mutters with a smile, reluctantly following Yuuri from the room.
“I think today was mostly a success,” Yuuri admits.
“Definitely,” Viktor agrees.
“I’m so glad he had fun.”
“I’m so glad he didn’t care about winning until we mentioned a medal,” Viktor laughs.
Yuuri kisses his husband then. “I love you, you over-the-top skating dad.”
“And I love you, my little worry wart,” Viktor teases back.
Before they make it to bed that night, they both receive an email from Yakov.
Here’s the link to sign Yuri up for his summer Aspire program. It’s a three week program with a performance at the end and will boost him to basics five.
Yuuri groans, Viktor laughs, and they both realize that if this is what the rest of their lives look like, it will at the very least be one hell of a ride.