The way to the restaurant was a dead silence. Both of them felt like strangers. Yuri nervously checked his phone for the time and to see if there were any messages he could distract himself with. He was excited to see that his friend Pichit had messaged him earlier in the day asking how his training with Victor in Russia was going and to let him know that he planned a brand new routine for the coming season. Yuri smiled at that, he was always happy to see the passion Pitchit had for the sport and how he expressed that through his routines. He responded, his fingers grazing the screen with speed, telling him about practicing on the lake and leaving out the issues he was having with Victor. They were close but Yuri was usually very private about his life. Now that he was thinking about it, he didn't confide in very many people besides Victor and his family but in this case, not even his family knew what was going on between the two. As far as anyone knew they were still a happily engaged couple and Yuri wanted to keep it that way. Yurio may have picked up on it while in practice, seeing first hand how hard Victor was pushing himself and pushing away from everyone else besides Yakov. However, even then Yurio and Yuri were not that close, at most being decent acquaintances.

They had pulled in front of the restaurant while the valet exchanged their car keys with a small blue ticket. Victor tucked it securely in his jacket pocket and they headed towards the entrance. The two men walked side by side with a few inches between the two. Walking in, there was a great distance between them. So much so if someone else was watching they would assume they were strangers to each other. They sat across the table from each other, folded arms, leaning on the table looking almost angry at the stranger in front of them. The silence between the two was deafening. The waiter seemed uncomfortable at the fact that the two would refuse to look at each other at any point in time when she came to the table to take their drink order. They both quickly requested water, they were still on a very strict diet, Victor especially recently, something that Yuri was beginning to have a problem with. Since his own first stint of losing weight, he's been able to keep the pounds off. Victor, who didn't need to be on a diet, to begin with, and much to Yuri's detest, started one anyway. Yakov made it a requirement, learning from his ex-wife and Yurio, that to be more like a prima ballerina. The judges loved a slim form on the ice.

The poor waitress could tell there was something between the very lean man and the ghost of a friend and silently rooted for them behind her notepad while she took orders. The black haired one was kind and smiled, although she could see the strain and stress behind his eyes, while the other one was stoic, curt but still very polite.

It was not until halfway through their meal that she noticed that words were being exchanged between them finally. She would spy from across the eatery while she worked and saw them lighten up finally and it warmed her heart. By the end of the meal she even caught a smile and a soft laugh from them behind her, bringing a smile to her painted lips. It was heartwarming to see the silver-haired man defrost and truly enjoy his food.

There was hope for these two yet!

She handed the two men the bill, sadly interrupting some intimate eye lock they seemed to be engaged in, and wasn't until they were long gone and tipped her generously that she realized who the two were and was suddenly very upset she didn't even get a single photo.

…

Their apartment door slammed open, the doorknob denting the wall adjacent to it, the skaters tumbled and got entangled in each other. Thankfully, Victor had the good sense to kick the door back shut with his foot before they collapsed on the couch in a heated mess. The throbbing headache between Yuri's temples that came from slamming his head on the roof of the car when getting out, remained in his mind as he fought through the pain.

Wandering hands ghosting over athletic leggings and through soft hair, Victor started growing his out again and almost reached a little above his shoulders when it was down. He normally wore his in a high ponytail but now, Yuri was yanking the band and his silver strands creating a curtain around them. Their bodies molded together like a perfect piece as articles of clothing were being shed one by one and frantically thrown in random places of the room.

They hadn't been this close to each other for months, back when Victor had a form to him and they shared smiles and glances. His skin was a form-fitted suit over his bones, it made Yuri pause when his fingers would dance over the hills and valleys of his fiance's ribs, the ridges of his spine that seemed more like hills and slopes and as pale as snow. A vice was placed on his heart and squeezed as tight as it could while he looked at the body of the man he once loved. He was making love to a dead man.

Victor was painfully unaware of his startling appearance, cupping Yuri's face, bringing it close to his own with a sly smile, his cheeks still flushed from the hard, Russian, winter weather. Their hips moved together while they kissed ferociously and their hands began to wonder. Layers of their clothes slipped on them, being left on the floor and forgotten. While their bedroom was only a few feet away in their small flat, the couch was closer and they were desperate to feel each other's hot breathe grace their lips. Their legs tangled together in bliss when Victor's hand slid down Yuri's body, feeling his muscles contract and move underneath, his chest moving up and down with each soft sound coming from his mouth.

"I missed this," Victor said, his breath against Yuri's ear.

While Yuri has known Victor in the short time in which they met, he was never like this before. In the pale light of the morning illuminating their bare forms still on the couch. He was wide awake and was watching the other sleep, peace on his face for the first time since they started seriously training for the competition. He knew how important the gold was to Victor and it was another thing if he was competing. However, everything changed once they were each other's competition. He ran a hand through the other's hair, a comfort to himself. Victor was sick, he had to be. Unless the Victor he met wasn't Victor at all. Was he like this before he knew him? Is this truly the man he wanted to marry?

He wiped his eyes in frustration, thinking about leaving him when he was at his most vulnerable. He needed help and he knew he wouldn't accept it. He wiped his stubborn eyes again, his eyes continuously getting wetter by the second. Although they had not gotten married, he still believed that "in sickness and in health."

Victor's chest rose and fell steadily and he gave into the desire to run his hand through his fiancé's hair. It was as soft as silk and therapeutic the way his silky strands ticketed the space between his fingers.

He had tried to talk to Victor, but he wouldn't listen, brushing him off and pretending nothing was wrong. It was like the idea of winning the gold was tainting and poisoning his mind. Gold should never be more important than your life and love, and Yuri lived by that. When he was down at his lowest, crying in that bathroom stall that Yurio busted into, his family was what kept him afloat. Victor didn't have much of a family and Yuri would love to think that he saw him as family just as Yuri saw him. But this was not the man he fell in love with.

Before he could overthink everything, Victor shifted from under him, making a groaning noise as he maneuvered himself into a more comfortable position. He was met with sleepy icy blues, trying to focus his eyes on the man on top of him.

"Yuri," He said tenderly, his voice laced with tiredness and affection one can only have when they first stir as they wake. A smile was brought to Yuri's lips, a glimpse of the man he fell in love with shone through and his heart skipped a beat. It was like Victor's brain cleared for a moment, away from the stress and the need for the gold that plagued his mind twenty-four hours a day.

"What's been wrong with you lately" Yuri decided to ask, risking a possible fight for simply asking.

Victor looked puzzled for a moment, trying to clear his head from his sleepy fog.

"What do you mean?" He asked, slinging his arm over his shoulders.

"You've not been yourself and you've lost way too much weight to be healthy, you're cold, you won't talk to me and-"

"Yuri, Yuri!" Victor interrupted Yuri's word vomit.

"I guess I've just had my head in the clouds, I have to completely stun them with my great comeback, I don't want anyone disappointed."

Yuri was shocked into silence, he didn't expect an answer and finally, Victor was talking to him about something that was so vulnerable. Instead, he just nodded in understanding and it wasn't Victor's fault, Yakov was running him into the ground for practice and pushing him to his limit.

"I've been neglecting you, haven't I?" He asked quietly, looking away. It broke his fragile heart to see him apologize and look disgusted with himself.

"A little, but it's okay! We will make a difference. You have to learn to not let Yakov control you. He's your coach, that's all," Yuri said.

"He means well! He just wants to watch me continue to win," Victor tried to explain.

"But if what I win," He asked cheekily, getting a slightly teasing smile.

"I'd be happy to kiss your gold."