Chapter Text
Yuri collapsed on his knees on the ice, his free skate was finally over. Hot tears poured from his green eyes as his body shook. He covered his flushed face with his hands as the arena roared around him. His chest tightened with regret at the memory of what he said to Yuuri upon their first meeting at last year’s Grand Prix Final. He had told the Japanese skater to retire. That statement had become the very fear that had driven his incredible performance that ended only moments ago. A threat uttered from his own lips. He felt so guilty.
When Yuuri saw the blonde fall after finishing his free skate, he was on the ice before he even realized that his feet were moving. He had thrown off his skate guards and crossed the ice to Yuri. He ushered the crying Russian under his arm and helped him up, steadying him as they skated towards the barrier together. Once off the ice Yuuri blinked rapidly, realizing what he had done. He had been so overcome with the need to protect the younger omega once he had seen the tears begin to spill.
“Are you okay?” Yuuri asked calmly as he leaned down to put his guards back on.
“No, you can’t retire! You can’t leave me! Not like my mom!” Yuri choked between sobs.
Salty tears spilled from his eyes and his face grew pinker and splotchy. Yuuri gently reached out to the smaller boy, placing steadying hands on each of the Russian’s shaking shoulders before pulling him against his chest in a hug. Instinctively Yuri nuzzled his damp face into Yuuri’s chest and his fingers twisted into the fabric of his team Japan jacket. Without thinking about it or even realizing to an extent, Yuuri began to release a small amount of pheromones in order to comfort the crying child in his arms like a dam would to soothe their pup. A wave of protectiveness surged through the older omega’s body and he wrapped his arms tighter around the blonde. Yuri hiccuped against his chest as he breathed in Yuuri’s scent. He had never been this close to the Japanese skater before. He smelled like green tea and freshly cut flowers, his scent was soft and comforting. Yuri pushed his cheek against the dark haired man’s chest and tried to take a deep breath, taking in as much of Yuuri’s comforting scent as he could. He hated when people saw him cry, and now he was in front of thousands of people.
“Shh, I’m not going anywhere,” Yuuri assured as he rocked the blonde gently back and forth.
Only a few steps away Viktor watched with curious eyes as he nervously rung his hands together, he never knew what to do when someone cried in front of him. How was Yuuri so good at this? It must have been his omega nature, Viktor concluded. Young children always seemed to gravitate towards omegas because of their ability to comfort and soothe. Omega’s were natural born caretakers.
When he thought about it, Viktor realized that he had never seen Yuri actually cry. He had seen the young Russian come close to tears on a few occasions but never something like this. Viktor felt his chest tighten as he watched his fiancé, and soon to be mate, comfort their protege. Suddenly he felt the urge to protect the pair and to growl at the onlookers encroaching on the small group. While he had known himself to get a little jealous when Yuuri received unwanted attention, he had never felt as protective as he did in this moment as he watched Yuri sob into his fiancés chest. All it took was a few short strides before Viktor found himself behind Yuri, gently running a soothing hand across his upper back. Yuri vaguely registered the new scent behind him, pine trees and raspberry jam, Viktor. Yuuri glanced up at Viktor and the grey-haired Russian saw something entirely new burning fiercely behind the omega’s eyes that he couldn’t quite place.
“The score for Yuri Plisetsky will be announced shortly.” A voice from the overhead speaker called.
The arena buzzed in anticipation. Even without the official score it was clear that the blonde would be taking home the gold at his very first Grand Prix Final. Viktor pulled his hand away and searched for Yakov, who was already waiting with Lilia at the kiss and cry. Yuuri noticed and gently pulled away from Yuri’s tear stained face, at least the teen had stopped crying.
“You’ve got to go get your medal, Yurio,” Yuuri said with a softly smile.
Yuri nodded furiously in response, followed by a few sniffles. He hadn’t even quipped at the nickname he typically expressed such distaste for. He had even almost forgotten that they were at a competition. All he could think about was Viktor’s suggestion that Yuuri would be retiring after the final, that Yuuri may leave the skating world forever, that he may leave Yuri. He hadn’t expected the possibility to shake him to his very core. He felt a little bit better now, the tears had stopped. All he could smell was Yuuri, not even the distinct scent of the ice or Viktor could reach his nose now.
His body felt warm, like he had been draped in a quilt. He felt safe. Yuri couldn’t remember the last time he had been held like that. The memories he had of his mother were few and far between but he would always remember what it felt like to he cradled in her arms as he sang lullabies to her in Russian. He could barely remember what she smelled like anymore. Rain, maybe?
For a moment he wanted to pull Yuuri back but he knew he had to get to the kiss and cry. He deserved that medal, and damn it if he wasn’t about to stand on that podium with a wicked wide grin. He was Yuri Plisetsky, the Ice Tiger of Russia, and he had just made his senior debut. That was what the blonde told himself internally, but in reality he had never felt so small. He just wanted to curl himself into Yuuri, make sure he would never leave him.
“Here,” Viktor held out the Makkachin tissue box to Yuri who took a Kleenex wordlessly. Yuuri wrapped an arm around Yuri’s shoulders as he lead the smaller boy over to his coaches.
“Yurochka!” Yakov boomed excitedly.
Lilia who stood behind him had a slight smile on her face, which was the equivalent of beaming for the usually serious looking ballet instructor. Yuri turned, suddenly feeling as if he may lose his nerve, but when he did he was greeted with Yuuri’s gentle smile and the Japanese skater carefully nudged him forward with a reassuring nod.
“Go on,” Viktor encouraged from Yuri’s other side. With that he made his way to the kiss and cry.
He had done it, Yuri had won gold at his first Grand Prix Final with his senior debut, he had kept Yuuri from retiring, and Viktor had announced his return to the ice. Everything was as it should be and yet Yuri felt an ache in his chest when Yakov and Lilia dropped him off at his hotel room to get ready for the banquet. What was missing? Why did he feel so unsatisfied when he had gotten everything he wanted?
In their own room a floor above Yuri’s, Viktor and Yuuri we’re getting ready for the banquet as well. The pair had kissed frenziedly as soon as they had gotten back to their room. Yuuri hadn’t won gold but he had redeemed himself after the disaster of last year’s Grand Prix Final, Viktor was coming back to the ice, and they were engaged. The pair kissed until their lips were red and nearly raw before collapsing onto one of the two beds in the room. They lay spooning for a few minutes, both panting before Yuuri finally broke the silence.
“Viktor?”
“Mhmm?” Viktor hummed. Yuuri could feel the rumble of his fiancé’s chest against his back.
“Do you know what happened to Yuri’s parents? After the final today he said something about his dam leaving him,” Yuuri questioned gently.
He couldn’t help but worry about the little Russian boy. Yuuri had felt the two of them becoming closer, Viktor included. But he had never felt as protective as he did when Yuri collapsed into a pile of tears that afternoon. Viktor took a deep breath, unsure of how to approach the unexpected question.
“I don’t know all that much,” he began. “Yakov told me a little after I had first promised to choreograph Yuri’s senior debut. He lost his mother when he was very young, but from what I don’t know. His father abandoned his mother shortly after he was born. That’s why he was raised by his grandfather, but I don’t know much else,” Viktor explained, wrapping his arms securely around Yuuri’s waist.
“That’s awful,” Yuuri sighed as he leaned back against Viktor. “I think,” Yuuri paused. He knew how he felt, how his instincts were driving him, but he still struggled to push the words out. He didn’t want to ruin the slightly rocky yet strong relationship he and Viktor has formed with Yuri. “I think he needs parents.”
Viktor nodded, “well, he’s been staying with Yakov and Lilia. Yakov basically raised me.”
Yuuri thought carefully about what to say next. “Yes, but they’re only his coaches, they don’t have a familiar bond. And no offense, but neither Yakov or Lilia seem very affectionate.”
Viktor let out a soft chuckle. “I suppose you’re right.”
Yuuri hummed gently as he breathed in Viktor’s comforting scent, allowing himself to bask in the warmth of his fiancé’s strong arms.
“You almost looked like a dam today,” Viktor chuckled against the back of Yuuri’s neck.
“What?” The Japanese man asked, perplexed.
“Today, with Yuri, comforting him, scenting him,” Viktor explained.
“Oh,” Yuuri replied meekly, suddenly feeling slightly embarrassed and very glad that Viktor couldn’t see his reddening face. “I guess I didn’t realize, it was all just sort of instinct.”
“You looked so soft and so strong at the same time, and you smelled so good. Warmer, it was nice,” Viktor breathed. “You look so good with a pup in your arms.” The words escaped Viktor’s lips before he realized what he was saying.
“Viktor!” Yuuri stammered as he shifted in his fiancé’s arms to look at him. Viktor’s cheeks were slightly pink and his eyes darted away for a moment out of embarrassment for what he just implied; Yuuri would make a good dam to their pups.
“We um, we should start getting ready for the banquet,” Yuuri suggested. Viktor nodded and pressed a tender kiss to his omega’s forehead. “We can check on Yuri before he go.” Viktor smiled his signature heart-shaped smile at his fiancé’s words, Yuuri’s maternal instincts made the alpha in him beam with pride.