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Yuri looked away from his phone, shaking it in his hand. It was showing up in his feed again. He of course knew that his fans, the Angels, could (and would) analyze his personal life, speculate, fantasize...feast on the details of his life like cockroaches on a corpse. Not even a dead corpse. As long as he didn’t see it on his feed, he could hide from the feeling of being eaten alive.
He looked at his phone again for a moment but he couldn’t even scroll down before averting his eyes. They kept arguing over whether he was a virgin or not. His Welcome to the Madness exhibition obviously meant that he was not a virgin somehow, but his Agape short could only be performed by an untouched child. Because that makes sense. His age, his sexual activity, his hair, the way his hips moved … Yuri didn’t have a problem with them discussing...whatever… in their dark corners of the internet. But now they tainted every comment thread that was supposed to be about his jumps, his step sequences, his training, his performances… they were everywhere. Everywhere.
Yuri wondered if this was why Victor cut his hair. To take control of his image back from the fans obsessing over his body, over his sensuality. He needed to do something to take his own control back.
His phone pinged with a message from Otabek but Yuri needed to move. He shoved his phone back in his bag and threw himself on ice. Lunch was over—never mind that he hadn’t bothered to take his skates off or put his phone down long enough to eat.
Otabek of course had heard most of his rants about the Angels. How much he hated feeling objectified. How Welcome to the Madness had backfired just as much as it succeeded in terms of getting people to change how they talked about his image. Disgusting, infuriating, and why did it even matter? Why did he even care!?
Practice didn’t exactly go smoothly. The ice certainly wasn’t smooth by the time he was done. For every fouled jump he expressed his rage with a hockey stop that sent a wave of shaved ice cresting taller than he was. Almost as tall as Georgi and the old man.
That night, Yuri fidgeted throughout the action movie that he and Otabek streamed together. The explosions were satisfying. But the excessive number of scenes featuring the attractive male leads topless, and the number of shots focused on the female lead’s exposed legs and cleavage, made him uncomfortable. Parts of him certainly liked those shots. But at the same time he felt exposed and… somehow violated each time as well.
Otabek noticed. Yuri could tell that Otabek had noticed. But Otabek didn’t say anything, sitting still and his mouth and eyebrows staying almost as still. Almost. Beka’s eyes were on him and Yuri liked it… and the fact that he considered Beka’s gaze pleasant contrasted so sharply with the way he felt about everyone else’s stare bothered him. He didn’t know why it bothered him anymore than he knew why anything else bothered him. Of course he probably knew but that would require putting everything into logical words and that was too much work.
Finally credits were rolling, so Yuri asked before Otabek could, “Did you like the movie?”
“Yeah. The factory blowing up was probably the best. That slo-mo capture of the floors collapsing on each other was so satisfying. I thought the motorcycle chase was too short, though.”
“Yeah, totally.”
“What did you think?”
“Oh um… yeah, I liked it. The romance plot was so sappy, though. It felt so forced compared to the rest of it. Like why would he even care about the walking tits on legs when he’s trying to bring down a crime syndicate?”
“Sometimes long legs can be very distracting. Did they distract you too much? Or was it the breasts?”
Yuri looked away from his laptop. This really wasn’t where he wanted the conversation to go.
“Everything okay, Yura?”
“They spent as much time using slow motion on her legs and hair as they did on that factory explosion. It just… what was the point?”
“...Did the sex bother you? We don’t have to watch movies that include sex scenes.”
“Not worth looking. Even kids movies spend too much time on people being gross and sappy.”
“It’s worth figuring out what makes you uncomfortable and why, Yura. It’s worth the time to figure out what makes you happy.”
“Why would it be? Nobody ever cares about when I’m happy. It’s only when I’m meeting somebody else’s standards or when I’m making somebody else unhappy that anyone even wants to know what I think.” Yuri looked back at the screen—when had he looked away?—when Otabek didn’t immediately agree or grunt in assent.
Otabek’s face hadn’t seemed to move all that much. Even in the dim lighting on the shitty laptop camera, however, Yuri could tell that his answer made his friend upset. He wasn’t entirely sure why. That was just the life of a professional athlete, right? To be the best at a judged sport, the judges’ opinions, and the coaches’ plans to get you to meet those expectations, always mattered more than what the athlete actually thought or felt. Even stupid Victor’s skills and ability to manipulate the judges was based on how well he was able to fake his way into being who they wanted him to be. He was so fake. Even the front he put on for stupid Katsudon was fake. Just… somehow fake in a different way. Yuri couldn’t quite put his finger on it.
For all that Otabek looked upset, he still didn’t say anything and Yuri squirmed. The silence broke when there was some muffled shouting on Otabek’s end and he turned away to yell something in Kazakh.
“Do you have to go?”
“No, my father just needed to know who was the last one to use the television because the remote is missing again.”
“You’ve been in your room with me since I got home from practice.”
“Yeah, it wasn’t me. I was listening to music before dinner and then I came here for you.”
The way Otabek said he came here ‘for you’ made Yuri’s ears and neck tingle. It felt good… and also very strange.
They ended their conversation soon after but Yuri struggled to settle down. He half-assed some homework before distracting himself with cat videos.
***
The situation didn’t improve. Even worse, people had noticed that he had been posting on social media less so now people were actively reaching out to him… and it didn’t irritate him as much as he thought it should but it was still irritating. Katsudon and the old man didn’t need his number obviously, but they must have given it out because he didn’t remember exchanging numbers with the gross Swiss skater or the Thai skater.
Old Pervert
>> I’ve missed your sarcastic comments, little tiger. They make Victor’s posts so much more lively!
Supreme Ice Tiger
<< Maybe I’ve given up because he should be dead already. His humor’s already in the grave. Zombie on Ice
Old Pervert
>> He perks right up around you or the other Yuuri. Has someone chased you off IG?
Yuri didn’t feel like admitting that he was letting the comments on Instagram or Twitter get to him. He didn’t get shaken up by the comments like Katsudon did.
Old Pervert
>> Too many dick pics on Snapchat? I bet you’re getting plenty after your GPF exhibition. Spicy!
Supreme Ice Tiger
<< Ew did not need to think about that
Old Pervert
>> You showed off your sex appeal on the ice, kitten! Of course that’s going to get some attention! Can’t compete with moi, mon petit chat. You’ll need to work your quads and your glutes more.
Supreme Ice Tiger
<< Fuck off
Old Pervert
>> Alas, I am hissed at by a sore loser kitten. However shall I cope?
Supreme Ice Tiger
<< You could start by making your programs less gross. You’re blinding old men and small children
Old Pervert
>> You’ll need sharper claws, kitten. ;) That didn’t even sting. While I see I can’t improve your humor, perhaps I can offer some advice.
Chris spammed his phone with several videos of butt and thigh exercises. Yuri found them disgusting but very helpful.
***
Yuri kept bouncing off of social media as soon as he saw disturbing comments from his fans so he never got around to posting anything anymore. Unfortunately his silence meant he kept getting harassed by random busy bodies who thought their advice was worth something. He didn’t want to talk to Yuuko, or Lilia, or Phichit. DE FINITELY not Yakov. Like, seriously? Nor Minako. Why the hell is she reaching out to him? She’s there for Katsudon when he’s being a cry baby but she had never done more than let him train in her studio when he was there last April for Onsen on Ice. Also no to Leo or Guang Hong. He did talk to his grandfather, but not about any of his pathetic worries. Yakov had been filling Deda’s head with nonsense and he brushed it off accordingly. He still talked to Otabek, but he dodged the topic.
“Yura, Victor messaged me. Victor did. Your practices aren’t going well. We’ve got Worlds coming up. What’s going on?
Well, he tried to dodge the topic.
“I’m fine. My practices are fine.”
Otabek was staring at him through the camera, and the eye contact didn’t quite line up, but Yuri still felt it like a burning itch on the inside of his rib cage. But explaining everything from the beginning… Yuri could barely explain it to himself and he didn’t see any way of explaining it now without losing all of Otabek’s respect.
“Beka… “
“Are you going to tell me or not?”
“... Not. Let’s go with not. But will you be visiting after Worlds?”
“Of course. That’s our plan. Celebrating your birthday late, but right.”
“Right. And you’re getting a hotel room?”
“Already made the reservation. Are you… worried that I’m not coming?”
“No, I know you’re coming. You said you’re gonna come, so you’re gonna come. But there’s something else I want to do when you’re here.”
“Yeah, what’s that? It’s your birthday so whatever you want.”
“I want you to pop my cherry ,” despite the finger quotes Yuri used for that stupid euphemism, his tone was flat and serious. “Have some meaningless sex and get it over with.”
Yuri blinked as Otabek’s face completely transformed with shock. It was the most expression he’d seen on his face at one time and he didn’t know what to make of it.
“... You want sex. Meaningless sex.”
“Yeah, I mean, we’ve already been flirting and we already performed sex on ice, basically. Practically. It was better than Giacockmetti, anyway. His performances are just gross. So… I mean… So I’m telling you, this is what I want.”
“You want… meaningless sex… with me.”
It wasn’t really a question, so Yuri didn’t answer it again. He changed the subject and the rest of their conversation limped uncomfortably until they finally wished each other good night. Otabek’s face never managed to go back to its stoic resting bitch state, but maybe that’s how Otabek showed excitement. Yuri wasn’t sure that was right, but he also didn’t want to think too hard about it.
Despite the awkwardness of the Skype session, Yuri felt so much better. He had a plan, Otabek had agreed, there was a time and a place of his choosing, and the control was back in his hands. It didn’t matter what his fans knew or thought they knew. He would know that it was his choice and it was under his control again. At last.