Round and Gold

Second Thoughts...and Third Thoughts...and Fourth Thoughts...

Viktor's POV

I held a round, silver disk up in the lamplight, scrutinizing every detail. I remembered so vividly when I had won the same medal, but in gold. I sighed, and ran my fingers through my platinum hair. Why had I agreed so quickly to come back into competition? Yuri's eyes had lit up with the light of a thousand stars when I told him. But looking back on it now, I hadn't given it enough thought. I loved coaching Yuri, and the lack of stress on me as an athlete was wonderful. And while I watched my friends and fellow skaters preform, I could critique they're skating and bring it into my own performances. I needed another year off. But how could I tell Yuri...?
Suddenly, the hotel room's door slammed. I whirled around, clutching the silver medal to my chest in one hand while gripping the sheets of the bed I sat on in fear.
"I made you a "Welcome Back to Competitive Skating" party!" Yuri cried, holding two shopping bags in the air. I smiled, feeling the tension ease out of me. Seeing Yuri's face made all of my worries fade away. I relaxed my hold on the bed, and set the medal down. I stood up, and walked over to my fiance, who still stood in the doorway, beaming like he had just bought me the world. I stood in front of him and folded my arms, smiling slightly. Yuri dropped his arms down, rushed to the coffee table, and set the bags down on it.
"I got some ingredients to make Borscht, which Yurio told me is a Russian thing, and a bottle of wine and some special napkin rings-"
"Yuri," I cut him off, turning him around and clasping his hands. "I can't celebrate with you."
"But...but..." Yuri faltered, "the napkin rings!"
"I know," I said, reaching up and putting my hand on his cheek. I couldn't bring myself to say anything. I couldn't shatter his heart again. It hadn't gone well last time. I took a deep breath.
"I can't celebrate with you because...we must celebrate your desicion as well!" I said, in my mind gloating about my smooth recovery. Yuri seemed puzzled, but beamed when he saw my forced smile.
"Oh, good!" he said, squeezing my hand. "You had me worried for a second there! Come show me how to make this soup stuff."
Yuri gave it his best shot, but he really isn't a cook. I wasn't much help, since my mind was filled with the guilt of what I had to tell him. All evening I sweat as we drank wine and Yuri gushed about how excited he was to be competing alongside me. I couldn't look him in the eyes as I downed my fourth glass. Perhaps because of the wine, I built up my courage and cut in.
"Yuri," I said, setting my glass down and running my hand through my hair. "I...I..."
"Viktor?" Yuri said, looking at me expectantly. He was barely on his second glass, and still very sober. Looking into his sweet dark eyes, I saw how hard he was trying to make me happy. I couldn't bear the thought of him crying over me again. Instead of speaking, I took his hand across the coffee table.
"Please, Yuri," I began, "I need to hold you."
"Why?" he asked, crawling towards me and wrapping his arms around my shoulders. I hugged him back, resting my mouth on his shoulder and closing my eyes.
"How come you want to compete against me so badly?" I asked. "Aren't you afraid of what that could do to our relationship?" Yuri paused for a moment.
"Not at all," he replied, taking his arms off my back and putting his hands on my shoulders. I brushed his black hair from his eyes, and smiled at him. He smiled, confusion etched into his expression.
"Why are you asking me this? Are you having second thoughts?" I didn't say anything. I couldn't even look into his eyes. I stared at the chocolate colored carpet. I heard Yuri take a deep breath.
"Well," he started shakily, "I will support you whatever you decide. I will always stand with you, Viktor. I love you too much to get in your way." I quickly looked up at him, a lump forming in my thought. I laughed and smiled, my eyes moist. I didn't let any tears fall as I brought him close to me again.

That night as we lay clutching each other under the covers, I ran my fingers through his hair, and he buried his face in my bare chest.
"Yuri," I whispered in his ear.
"Hmm?" he whimpered, barely able to open his eyes. I brought my lips even closer to his ear.
"Next year, you better watch out," I whispered. "Because I'm going to bring home something round and gold." Yuri sat up, and looked at me, eyes full of disbelief.
"You're...you're going to compete?" he asked, voice still groggy and filled with sleep. I laughed and nodded. Yuri three his arms around me, and squeezed me tight. I hugged him back. We broke away, and I traced my fingers from his lips to his toned stomach. He kissed my lips, barely able to do so because of his smile.

In my heart I knew that this was the right thing. If Yuri was happy, I was happy. And I would support him always, whether one of us brought home the gold or not.

But my mind told me that so much could go wrong when a couple like us was pitted against each other. Friendships fell apart in the heat of competition. Could the same thing happen to us?