Endless night {yuri! On ice}

Rostelecom cup: Yuri vs Yuuri the horror!

We passed through passport check and turned toward a source of sudden screams. Yuri's fanbase crowded against the banister that separated us from them, clutching posters and cat ears tightly in their hands.

Yuri grimaced and I giggled, but stopped abruptly as their eyes darted to our intertwined hands. Their eyes narrowed coldly, most already knowing about our newfound relationship from the event.

I felt sweat begin to form on the back of neck and Yuri's hand tightened in mine. I glanced to him, and flashed a loving smile. He returned it, displaying a surprising amount of civility for someone whose love was just scorned, and kissed my shoulder, height only allowing him to reach that high without struggling.

The airport exit stood before us as our band of people made our way outside. I got a glimpse of the snowy mountains of Moscow outside before Yuri suddenly tugged me behind him and away from everyone at a rocket's speed.

"Meela! Mind my bags!" He shouted behind his shoulder, not leaving any time for her to argue.

"I'm so sorry Charlie, but, can you mind my bags please?" I called to my stylist, stopping Yuri in his desperation- if only for a moment.

My designer nodded and turned to talk to Alex about preparations for the upcoming competitions. Yuri already knew where the hotel was, having asked Yakov before the plane landed, so none of the adults were particularly worried about him getting lost.

Our sneakers slapped in time to one another as we ran towards the exit. The fangirls' cries and shouts for us to come back faded into near nothingness as Yuri forced the swinging door open and practically leapt onto an old man.

"Grandpa!" He shouted, glomming onto him with more force than was necessary, or healthy. A loud cracking noise echoes from the man's back, now known to be Yuri's grandfather, and the boy apologizes profusely, Russian words spilling out of his mouth far more comfortably than the English phrases he had been speaking for months at a time.

He beckoned me over with a little wave and a big grin. "Grandpa, I want you to meet someone! This is Sam, another skater I met in Japan and-" he grabbed hold of my hand again, rambling on and on to put off the inevitable before exclaiming "-he is also my boyfriend!"

I held out a hand for his grandfather to shake and smiled at Yuri. "It's nice to meet you, sir." My grasp on the Russian language was lackluster and shaky at best, but Yuri's nod of approval was confirmation enough that I had said it correctly.

Yuri's grandfather shook my hand solidly, grip tight and almost intimidating. He glowered at me, waiting to see if I would crumble. I simply smiled at him as well. "Nikolai Plisetsky. If you do anything Yuri does not like, you will be answering to me, son." He turned back to Yuri ad they began a conversation so fast paced that no matter what language they might have been speaking in, it was nearly impossible to understand.

Yuri placed a hand on my shoulder and led me towards the car even as they continued. I hopped into the back seat, knowing that Yuri would want to talk to his grandfather in pace without my interruption. I stared out the window, watching countless cars pass by as we headed deeper into the city and they yammered on, Yuri smiling progressively wider as they continued catching up.

Yuri waved a brown paper bag in front of my face. "Here!" Yuri said, placing it in my lap. I grabbed something from inside and my mouth watered at the smell.