The plane jiggled and jumped about, buffeted by turbulence galore. I ignored the clouds flitting past the windows in favor of complaining mentally and attempting to not end up staring at Yuri.
The turbulence and cramped seats were not at all comfortable and/or comforting. Yuri was, however. He had fallen asleep on my shoulder about an hour into the flight and the soft snores were cute, if not distracting. The show playing on my phone was far less captivating in comparison.
It had been a week since Skate Canada and Yuri and I had spent that time running about St. Petersburg and training like crazy in-between avoiding Yakov and Lilia's wrath.
Charlie had accompanied us a few times, dashing around various book shops and squealing when she found a good novel.
I swear, that girl could inhale books. It's was absolutely terrifying.
I shifted my concentration from the clouds outside my window to the screen in front of me. Two characters fought over a child, one saying it would be best to send her away, the other claiming it wouldn't be very good for the other.
Yuri woke up slowly, then. First it was a yawn, then a few blinks like he was pushing the haze away with just the force of his eyelids. Yuri's green eyes focused entirely on the screen once he realized what was playing and soon enough his hand was clenched around the lower part of my right arm and tightened whenever a plot twist would arrive.
I squirmed slightly, uncomfortable with his ever-tightening grip. The episode ended abruptly and Yuri shifted his head to watch his screen as if in wait, but not before running his hand through my hair.
It had grown out slightly, roots still a little yellowish in comparison to the ask blonde the rest had become after cycles of bleaching and conditioning over the course of a few weeks.
Charlie just said that she would get some toner and fix it up when they settled down again. Silver was not an easy color to maintain.
The plane's wheels touched the ground roughly, bouncing the main body of the plane hard, causing my hand to fly up and press against the seat in front of me.
"Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for flying with us. We hope to see you very soon," the captain's voice came over the intercom as I leaned forward to Charlie's seat in front of me.
I reached two fingers through between the seats while Yuri stood up, collecting his leopard print back pack. I tapped Charlie's shoulder and immediately she turned to face me.
"He sounds really nice," she whispered to me, keeping her voice down so Meela wouldn't hear her. I nodded in agreement.
"He could be a professional singer with that kind of depth," I added.
I stretched my arms above my head as our ragtag group got off the plane. Yakov and Lilia both walked together, conferring quietly with Alex by their side.
They seemed to have gotten quite close, bonding over the stress of nearly-parenting a group of ridiculous teenagers and young adults.
Next came Meela and Charlie, both dragging their suitcases behind themselves. Yuri and I brought up the rear, Yuri's hand clutching mine.
He wasn't big on PDA. Handholding and some physical contact was all he permitted outside of private spaces and I respected that. I rubbed the top of his hand gently with my thumb in reassurance.
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.
"What is it?" I asked him, turning it in my fingers. Thank all the things in the world that are holy, this smells amazing!
"Pirozhki," Yuri replied. I thanked him and took a bite. My eyes widened. "This tastes awesome!"
Yuri nodded violently. "My grandpa made them! His pirozhki are the best!" Nikolai's mouth twitched upward into a fond smile.
POV Change – 3rd Person
The car remained quiet, the only noise the faint buzz of Sam's music emanating from his headphones. Yuri stared out the window, watching Moscow fly past.
"When did you too meet?" His grandfather asked in Russian, raising his eyebrows.
"We met when Sam came to Kyushu, a year ago," Yuri told his grandfather. He took another bite of his pirozhki and hummed in delight.
"You've missed my cooking?" His grandfather speculated, smiling at his grandson.
"No, not really. They had these really nice pork cutlet bowls! They could almost beat your pirozhki," Yuri admitted, biting into the bun again.
Nikolai scowled at that, but was happy nonetheless. They arrived swiftly afterward, hotel lobby bright even from outside, and the two boys got out of the car. Sam shook hands with Yuri's grandfather again and Nikolai just patted him on the shoulder and smiled in response.
They walked inside with one final wave and made to skip over the mob of press-people in their route to the elevators. Viktor spotted them amidst the conundrum and decided to fudge their plans.
"Oh, look! There's Yuri Plisetsky and Sam Smith! How are you two? Ready for the competition?" Viktor sauntered over to the couple, separating their hands as he put an arm around each of their necks.
Sam smiled awkwardly at him, Yuri knocked his coffee to the floor and ducked out of his hold.
"I'm not nervous! I will win the Grand Prix and then you will come home and leave that little piggy behind!" Yuri shouted, the press eating up his words like they were their last meal.
Yuri suddenly grabbed hold of Sam's hand again, pulling him to the elevator quickly and away from Viktor. Sam just followed after him, attempting to be apologetic and failing due to contempt on behalf of Viktor's intervention.
Viktor suddenly cast his eyes down to the pair's intertwined hands, to their laced together fingers and the shy loving looks they gave each other. He smiled, happy for the two of them and almost a little jealous.
The two hurried towards a lift, Yuri suddenly sticking his foot in the door to keep it open. A familiar ebony haired male greeted Sam's sight.
Yuuri's eyes flicked to the pair's hands again and their apparent closeness.
"Oh! Sam, Yurio! I didn't expect to see you so soon," he said, smiling.
"Yuuri! Yeah, I was expecting to see you at the warm-ups tomorrow, but not right now-no offense meant, of course. How've you been?" Sam asked, bouncing on the balls of his feet as Yuri pressed the floor number.
"I've been good! Viktor and I just came from the Cup of China and I still can't believe I made it this far," He told Sam.
"Oh, yeah. How did that-"
"You will lose in Moscow and, when you do, Viktor will come home and train me and Sam! Got it, piggy?" Yuri suddenly cut him off, glaring a hole into Yuuri's head.
"Rude," Sam muttered as the lift stopped and the two of them got off, but not without Sam apologizing to Yuuri. Yuri slid the room key into the slot, pushing the door open to reveal two twin beds and a basic suite.
Sam ran towards a bed immediately, jumping on top of the covers with no semblance of the grace he had on ice. Yuri suddenly started pacing once the door closed. Sam sat up and tilted his head to the side.
"You ok?" He asked. Yuri suddenly burst, his voice going louder and speaking in Russian. Sam heard his name and Yuuri's as well- maybe he meant himself, but no matter what Yuri was agitated and it was his job to help him.
He cupped Yuri's face in both hands, ignoring the poisonous look he got in return. "Hey, stop obsessing over him, alright?"
Yuri shook his head and stepped away.
"What if Viktor never comes back?"
"Then we can deal with that if it ever comes to pass." Sam sat down on one of the beds again and patted the space beside him. "Want to sit with me for a little?"
Yuri relented, then, and sat down as requested. He leaned on Sam. "I'm scared, you know."
His voice was small and deceptively fragile. "I'm scared he might steal you away as well."
Sam understood the fear and sudden trepidation, but he knew at least one of those worries would never bear any fruit. "Yuri, can you look at me for a moment?"
The boy sat up and turned ever so slightly.
Sam kissed him in response and thanks, a soft press that was chaste and a little hurried. "I am yours, Yuri. I will not leave you."
Yuri kissed him again. They sat together for a while longer in comfortable company.
Bello ^^
It feels like forever! I am so so sorry this chapter took so long! I'm spreading out the last two competitions out a bit more and developing the relationship! I am so sorry again and hopefully the next update won't be too far away! Thank you NekoAisu for editing the chapter! Love ya! ^^
Jaa ne
~Charlie-chan