"If I were blind, within my heart, I could still see the beauty that you are."
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It was Yuzuru who was always considered as beautiful. Fans and reporters stated how adorable he was, how mesmerizing his skating was. His friends always commented on that attractive shyness surrounding him, the way he became flushed the second someone gave him a compliment, with his ears turning red, and hands trying to hide his face away from the outside world. In his costumes, he was always looked at as a prince, a swan, or some sort of God; his beauty and existence too unreal to be true.
The Japanese liked the aura he gave out, the way people saw and thus treated him. Who wouldn't, right? Statements about his looks and skating were still rather appealing to him, even after all those years, but the questions! The questions those stupid reporters gave other skaters about him drove him mad!
He told himself not to be angry at them, that they didn't know what it was like to be an athlete, and yet, whenever he heard or read another skater being questioned about one of his rivals, the great Yuzuru Hanyū , the young Japanese man became frustrated.
He enjoyed being the best, although he had to work harder than the others to keep his place at the top, but he just couldn't stand the shadow he unintentionally created. He wanted for his friends to bathe in the lights of attention, too. He wanted them to receive as much support and love as he did. And yet, it hardly ever came true.
What he began to notice, and what angered but also scared him the most, was the suffering his closest friends experienced. It wasn't only Nam suffering; it was Gabby – she was a woman, she wasn't even in the same category as him but still went through pain. It was also Jason, the funny and loveable Jason, and Jun to a certain point, too.
Yuzuru often felt terribly sorry for all those, who were close to him. He often found himself questioning whether his decision of coming to Canada was good or bad. At some point, during yet another sleepless night, he regrated leaving Japan and wished he could turn back the time, slap his younger self across the face and make him stay in his home-country.
Life at the top was painful and often lonely, but he didn't want it to become like that. He wanted to keep people around him, even if he didn't say it out loud, and wanted to have friends like any other person. He was, after all, just a human, too. He was often scared his friends would get fed up, would have had enough, and leave the club, scattering their careers on the floor, and blame him for the outcome. But he was also scared of telling the reporters to calm down, to stop asking others about him, to ask questions which applied to the skater.
However, he did, once, do so. He did, once, come out rather passively aggressive after a question echoed in his ears at a certain press conference. At that time, he didn't care about the cameras capturing everything or pictures being taken. He didn't care about speaking his mind, didn't care about of the fact if he offended one of those stupid reports whom he wouldn't see ever again.
At that time, during the Olympics, he told himself he had enough and acted on reflex, listened to his instinct and said what he always wanted to say.
Of course, it left everyone speechless; no-one had ever seen Yuzuru so serious off the ice. It was written down at the speed of light, and would cause great chaos after it reached the light of the world, but Yuzuru did not care.
Even the man on his right was surprised; the man he defended.
"You should be glad that Jabi has the patience of a saint."
Oh yes, Javi. The Spaniard was truly a saint. At first, Yuzuru worshipped him like a God, but soon came to realize he wasn't one. Firstly, because he, too, showed weakness – more often than people would think, and more passionately than anyone else – and secondly, because he could do no harm, unlike God. For God had the ultimate right to destroy and create, while a saint could only help and protect.
Well, Yuzuru thought, "only" wasn't a good word to describe it; helping and protecting was better than the qualities of the higher being. At least, it was far more efficient for humans – to have someone to help and protect them. Therefore, Javi wasn't a God; he was a saint.
But, of course, he never told the older man how he viewed him. Sure, Javier knew Yuzuru adored and looked up to him to a certain point, he respected him like no-one else, but never knew the Japanese thought of him as a being created for the purpose of pure good.
On a different occasion, before the Olympics (as he remembered), he spoke his mind once more. But he was still far too shy back then, so he only mentioned it without directly addressing it.
"I look forward to questions about Jabi. I really want to answer them!"
The statement made the female report smile and let out a soft "aw" after she heard it, and a part of him was happy she took it like that, but another part of him was angry because it didn't come out as strict and strong as he wanted it to be. He wanted it to be a firm statement, not just a silly mention.
Nonetheless, the moment he came back to his hotel room that day, and connected his phone to Wi-Fi, a bing rang from his phone. It was a notification of a new message, which would wait if it was from someone else, but since it was from Javi – sweet, wonderful Javi – it was to be answered right away.
The message consisted of a "thank you" and words of surprise at the sudden courage the Japanese got. Yuzuru felt pride swell in his chest; hearing words of praise from the older man made his heart jump in joy, cheeks heat up, and made him feel good about himself in general.
It wasn't the meaning of the words which got him feeling like that, though. It was the soft look in the brown eyes, the voice that dripped with sweetness, and the pat on head or back, or even a hug, that made the Japanese lose consciousness and his head went spinning, small balls of joy exploding in every part of his body.
He wanted to be good for Javi, his Javi, and he was, and God, it made him so, so happy.
But, as all things go, there is a dark side to the whole thing. It's the fear kicking in again whenever he saw how the Spaniard's lips twitched as yet another question about his rink-mate came towards him. Javi was great at hiding his annoyance and irritation behind a bright smile and gentle words, but Yuzuru could see right through, and a part of him scrunched in fear when a pair of bottomless brown eyes gazed at him.
He knew how to care about Javi, how important it was to never mention a press conference after it was done and over with. But he also knew he couldn't hug or touch him in any sort of way until the next day's morning, because the Spaniard would know – he always knew everything – that it was Yuzu showing pity. Pity left a bitter taste in Javier's mouth, and Yuzu knew, for when he kissed him, he could taste it, too.
Nights after something like this were the worst; they both suffered, just in a different way. The Japanese would blame himself, even though his lover told him on multiple occasions not to, because it wasn't his fault, it was the reporters' fault. Meanwhile, the Spaniard would belittle himself, torture himself with made-up scenarios of utter defeat and humiliation.
The morning afterwards was slightly awkward, but quickly corrected with the right amount of hand squeezing and fingers locking. All that was had to be done, was a kiss from Yuzuru on Javi's foreahead, and Javi's hands on their favourite place – all the way down on the other's waist.
During moments like this, the Spaniard was beautiful, Yuzuru came to realize quickly. The older man was just as beautiful on the ice or in the living room, with a smile on his face. He was beautiful when he was sleeping soundly next to Yuzuru, with sunlight caressing his cheeks. He was beautiful when he looked at Yuzuru with a silent request of a kiss; the way his already dark eyes went even darker, the way his lips became redder after the touching of skin.
Some called him handsome, but to Yuzuru, he was beautiful. He was the definition and synonym to beautiful, with his fluffy and (now) slightly curly hair. With the two- or three-days old stubble on his face, with the wrinkles around his eyes when he smiled.
Javi was beautiful when performing, with his blades running across the frozen ice, his hands outstretched and eyes focused. He was beautiful in each and every of his costumes (okay, other than his Super Javi one, because that one became a dirty pleasure for Yuzu after it was soaked with water and clung to the man's body).
If he was asked (oh, how he wished he was), which one of Javier's performances was his favourite, he would answer with Man of La Mancha right away. When he saw it for the first time completed and with Javi wearing his costume – although simple, but still appealing – his breath was taken away. He became an emotional mess, happiness and desire to cry mixing together into one.
Who would have thought the great Yuzuru Hanyū would be on his knees for some Spanish skater, gliding across the ice as Don Quixote, in a plain shirt which showed his perfect collar bone? Who would have thought that, when Javi finished his programme and took the final pose, with one of his hands outstretched and the other on his beating heart, the Japanese would want nothing else but run to him and place his hand into his?
Whenever he watched this one certain programme, he would feel as if he left his body as a soul. As if he was in a whole different world, in some kind of fairy tale.
The man was simply exquisite, and Yuzuru was sure he wasn't the only to see it, but he wanted more people to recognize the man's greatness and dazzling beauty.
He adored him and cherished him, sometimes wondering if this whole thing was real, if Javi was real because he was far too kind after everything he went through, and far too beautiful; Yuzuru often found himself scared to touch his lover, for he feared the man would disappear as all lovely dreams do.
Soft lips ghosted over Yuzuru's neck; he was sure their owner wasn't a dream now. Strong hands came around his waist and settled on his lower abdomen, bringing warmth as a gift. "What are you thinking about, cari? You've been awfully quite for a long time." Ah, there it was; the sweet, sweet voice of Javi's, a low baritone which managed to calm Yuzuru down right away. There was visible concern in the man's hushed tone, but also curiosity. Pale hand came to Javi's face, caressing it gently before its owner turned around, cupping the Spanish cheeks, and planting a kiss on his lover's lips. Yuzuru smiled, while Javier still looked a bit concerned. "It nothing; Habi don't need to worry."
He let his fingers leave a path from Javi's jaw, across his neck, to his collar bone. The skin along the way prickled and stung Javier, his breath hitching in his throat. Suddenly, all of his concerns and worries disappeared as a pair of well-known lips warmed his own.
The Japanese took a step back, taking a better look at his Spanish lover. He was wearing a brown-ish turtleneck, the piece of clothing hugging certain parts of his body perfectly, just like his dark grey trousers. Glasses decorated his face, eyes turning softer underneath them. His hair was messy and still damp from the shower he had earlier, but he did not take the time to dry them properly, for he (and Yuzu, too) was already a bit too hungry and he hurried to make dinner just like he promised.
Having such a beautiful person dressed up like this, making dinner for him, made Yuzu's heart melt. Javi never failed to make him feel loved and special, and Yuzuru made sure to do just the same.
"Habi very handsome today," he said, pressing their bodies together again. The Spaniard's face shone with a beaming grin, hands gripping at the other's waist. "Oh? Only today? Am I not handsome on other days?" He was teasing him, of course he was, and usually – as expected even now – Yuzuru would throw his head back slightly and laugh, but not this time. He wanted to let Javi know how he viewed him, because he deserved it and wasn't told often.
"No, Habi very handsome every day. Habi very handsome and beautiful all the time." Big, brown eyes became even bigger as Javi stared at the man in his arms, not quite sure whether this was some kind of prank or real talk. He searched for any kind of hint of playfulness on the other's face, in the other's eyes; when Yuzu tried to prank Javi, and tried to hide it, the corner of his lips would be twitching and his cheeks would become puffy from holding back his laughter.
However, this time, there was no trace of this. Redness came rushing to Javier's face; it was different receiving a compliment from a fan and lover. He stuttered, making the Japanese laugh loudly, but it soon died down, the sound disappearing in a kiss. The two men stood there, arms around each other, in front of a large window with dinner ready on the stove.
Although Yuzuru wanted justice for all his closefriends, and even those who weren't close to him, but were in his category, hecouldn't do so. It was a hard task, something that would take many officialletters and angry looks to be recognized, and something that would disappearonly when he retired. He couldn't keep everyone happy, but he could keep themost important person in his life happy. He would bring light to Javi – hisgood-looking, kind-hearted Javi – just as he brought light to his life, too,because he couldn't stand seeing the beaming ball of sunshine drowned in darkness.
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belleza - beauty (Spanish)
cari - sweetie (short for cariño, Spanish)
Hello! I'm not dead! Yay! Sorry for not supplying you with more stories about these two, but I was rather busy with my other book, but now that it's finished, I can focus on Javi and Yuzu again. To be honest, the last two seasons have been a mess, but the start of this one? Utter chaos.
Anyway, in this household, we stan and worship Javier Fernández Lopéz <3 Aka me missing him a bit too much and crying over his Man of La Mancha performence. But let's be real, who doesn't like this one performence? It's a piece of art, which got me crying on multiple occasions. So basically, I was just pouring all my emotions out XD
I hope you liked it. Please, leave a comment and a vote. I've noticed how popular this got, and I'm super happy about it, so thank you very much for liking the things I write. Love you all <3
- Boora-kun