There's an arm lopping his waist. Another catching his shoulder. Victor's chin on his shoulder. Yuri knows he should jump. Any other time he'd jump. He was shaking last night. The thought is almost academic there, but the idea of moving toward it, jumping, is exhausting even. He's not entirely sure he can feel his body, and it's not all that different from Victor throwing himself around his shoulders a few minutes ago on camera.
It's almost orienting more than the disorientation he expects. Weight in his toes, on his shoulders. It doesn't entirely stop that his cheeks flush a little, the very tops of themselves when Victor's cheek brushes his as he settles. Yuri's eyes only shifting over enough to catch the pale of his skin and silver-grey of his hair, before he shifts back to watching Chris Giacometti, missing the two pairs of eyes lingering on them first.
Chris' outfit is more aggressive and sexier than Yuri could even dream of having the confidence to wear. It's shimmers everywhere, every time he moves, drawing the eyes to every part and angle of his body that catches the light. The whole thing makes his stomach coil tighter and even as it makes him want to curl in, he leans back slightly, into the weight of Victor, watching the comparison of what he'd done at a completely different level.
One he wasn't positive he could ever touch, no less pretend he could be.
It doesn't matter that the elements are downgrading from expected, Chris has set the audience and the ice on fire. The flush of his cheeks and the sensuous movements of his body above and beyond that. There's no way everyone watching that wasn't moved. Even he was. Phichit looks in shock, Guang-Hong's hands are at his mouth, and Victor might only be commenting on his elements, but that can't be the only thing he sees either.
Not Victor who has been skating beside Chris since Chris joined the senior division. There's absolutely no way that Victor can't feel it, like all of them here, all the audience out there.
"I guess today's sex appeal award goes to Chris," Yuri says glumly, while Victor's hand is patting his far shoulder. "Even the ice looks soaking wet."
They stand there, waiting. The four of them, as Chris and his coach appear in the kiss-and-cry next, and then the screen bars finally blink into place. Yuri staring for what feels like an insanely, confused moment at the Rank 5, especially as Chris is on his feet playing to the adoring crowd like it's the exact opposite of that number.
All of it startles a soft sound of true surprise from Yuri's mouth, "Huh?"
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There's an arm lopping his waist. Another catching his shoulder. Victor's chin on his shoulder. Yuri knows he should jump. Any other time he'd jump. He was shaking last night. The thought is almost academic there, but the idea of moving toward it, jumping, is exhausting even. He's not entirely sure he can feel his body, and it's not all that different from Victor throwing himself around his shoulders a few minutes ago on camera.
It's almost orienting more than the disorientation he expects. Weight in his toes, on his shoulders. It doesn't entirely stop that his cheeks flush a little, the very tops of themselves when Victor's cheek brushes his as he settles. Yuri's eyes only shifting over enough to catch the pale of his skin and silver-grey of his hair, before he shifts back to watching Chris Giacometti, missing the two pairs of eyes lingering on them first.
Chris' outfit is more aggressive and sexier than Yuri could even dream of having the confidence to wear. It's shimmers everywhere, every time he moves, drawing the eyes to every part and angle of his body that catches the light. The whole thing makes his stomach coil tighter and even as it makes him want to curl in, he leans back slightly, into the weight of Victor, watching the comparison of what he'd done at a completely different level.
One he wasn't positive he could ever touch, no less pretend he could be.
It doesn't matter that the elements are downgrading from expected, Chris has set the audience and the ice on fire. The flush of his cheeks and the sensuous movements of his body above and beyond that. There's no way everyone watching that wasn't moved. Even he was. Phichit looks in shock, Guang-Hong's hands are at his mouth, and Victor might only be commenting on his elements, but that can't be the only thing he sees either.
Not Victor who has been skating beside Chris since Chris joined the senior division.
There's absolutely no way that Victor can't feel it, like all of them here, all the audience out there.
"I guess today's sex appeal award goes to Chris," Yuri says glumly, while Victor's hand is patting his far shoulder. "Even the ice looks soaking wet."
They stand there, waiting. The four of them, as Chris and his coach appear in the kiss-and-cry next, and then the screen bars finally blink into place. Yuri staring for what feels like an insanely, confused moment at the Rank 5, especially as Chris is on his feet playing to the adoring crowd like it's the exact opposite of that number.
All of it startles a soft sound of true surprise from Yuri's mouth, "Huh?"
Chris didn't displace him, and if Chris didn't --
"Then, am I--" First? He was still in First?