SugarQueen99
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"You have pretty legs, Yuuri."
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Bookmarked by SugarQueen99
17 Feb 2026
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It’s mortifying. Of course it’s mortifying.
But even with his hands restless by his sides and his stomach buzzing with butterflies and adrenaline and nerves, Yuuri finds that he oddly doesn’t mind the attention. Or rather, Yuuri can’t bring himself to care, for once. He’s exhausted to the bone from his performance, eyes slow and limbs heavy from running on little to no sleep for more than 24 hours now, not to mention kind of emotionally drained from his mental breakdown earlier.
If anything, Yuuri kind of wants Victor to kiss him again. Preferably right now.
At once.
Immediately.
(It’s turning into a problem.)
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Bookmarked by SugarQueen99
16 Feb 2026
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Yuuri sneezes, and sends two top ranked, gold medal winning Russian figure skaters into a minor meltdown.
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Bookmarked by SugarQueen99
16 Feb 2026
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“Just hear me out,” Yuuri presses. He can feel heat burning behind his eyes and he grits his teeth, fighting back the tears. If he cries now, Victor will be too occupied with comforting him to actually pay attention to what he’s saying. “I want you to be happy.”
“I am,” Victor grounds out, confused and hurt. “I’m happy with you. What even gave you the idea that I’m not?"
“Because I’m never going to win gold!” Yuuri shouts. His words echo like a gunshot, and the silence that follows it is haunting.
(In which Victor is gold--magnificent, breathtaking, brilliant--and Yuuri is glass--transparent, thin, breakable.)
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Bookmarked by SugarQueen99
16 Feb 2026
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Summary
There was a bouncing shift of weight, and suddenly a silky voice was at Yuuri's ear, "Hey Yuuri, is it possible you like when I speak Russian?"
Yuuri groaned.
Viktor's lips ghosted right beneath Yuuri's ear, gently sliding over the sensitive flesh of his neck, "I can speak Russian to you, if you like."
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Bookmarked by SugarQueen99
16 Feb 2026