Dreams Do Come True // Yuri!!! On Ice

The Angry Russian

Yuri had just finished skating and placed last.
He was sitting in the hallway on a bench, me beside him. "Come on Yuri! It wasn't that bad*" coach Celestino had tried to cheer him up, but all he did was read a news article out loud: "Katsuki Yuri, making an appearance at the Grand Prix Final for the first time placed last. Could this be the end of his season?" Sighing, I pinched his cheek, him wincing and slapping my hand.
"I'm going to the restroom," he informed. Coach sighed and told me to follow him. Nodding, I stood up and stopped right outside the men's bathroom. About a few seconds after Yuri went in, I saw a blonde haired boy with a Russian jacket lean on the parallel wall from me. 'Yuri Plisetsky. Otherwise known as the Russian Punk. Placed first in the Junior Men's division. Pretty cute.' I made a mental note about him in my head. He must've seen me looking at him because he asked, "What're you looking at?" Came his, I guess, usual angry voice. Looking away, I sniffed a bit, the air cold.
"An angry Russian," at this comment, he 'tch'ed and walked into the men's bathroom.
After a bit of waiting, I heard a loud bang and jumped a bit. Then I heard someone yell 'moron'. After that, the blonde Russian once again stepped out.
"What the hell did you do to Yuri?" I asked, a monotone voice leaving my mouth. He turned around and walked closer to me, to the point where the tips of his hair was touching my glasses frames**.
"I just gave him a bit of advice, that's all," he told me.
"Yelling 'moron' isn't a way to give advice. Moron." I spat. He just smirked and walked away. Seeing his retreating form, I only had one thought, Dang, he's cute.
"Ah! Why are you waiting outside?" I heard the Japanese Yuri say once he exited the bathroom.
"Waiting for you. Come on, coach is waiting," he nodded and we walked side by side back to where coach was.

•Timeskip to airport•

"Wait! Yuri!" We heard a voice yell out. Stopping, we all turned around and saw newscaster Mooroka.
"Oh, Newscaster Mooroka. What do you need?" Yuri asked.
"You can't give up yet! It's too early in your career. What will you be doing now? Still training in Detroit?" He asked.
"I'll talk to coach Celestino about that later. Please, don't make assumptions," was Yuri's answer.
"Yuri, about that step sequence, it cou--" the voice was cut off by another. "I won, who cares," was the familiar voice. I looked over and saw Viktor Nikiforov and Yuri Plisetsky. I looked back at Yuri K. and saw he was looking at Viktor. Also looking back at Viktor, he must've seen us looking because he turned around, his silver hair bouncing a bit.
"A commerative photo? Sure," he said. I looked back at Yuri K. and saw his tense shoulders relax and got a look that resembled almost sadness. A look I didn't like. Yuri K. didn't say anything, he only turned around and walked off, but before he did, he grabbed his stuff with one hand and the other grabbed my wrist. Stumbling a bit, I leaned back to get my stuff and also saw Viktor looking at us. Waving a bit, I smiled and continued to walk with Yuri K. out of the area.
"Wait! You two don't want a picture with Viktor?!" I heard coach's voice shout.

Well, home. Here I come.
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*I didn't exactly know what he said there
**Yes, you wear glasses. The reason will be explained later on.
I'm actually really enjoying writing this. Hope you enjoy reading it!
-Baka-Chan_ <3