Chapter Text
August 1998
The first time Ilya met Viktor he was 7 and Viktor was 8. The sun was just beginning to set, casting a soft pink glow over the sky line of St. Petersburg. Ilya stood, surveying the monkey bars, his jaw set and his brow furrowed.
He leapt into the air, and for the brief second before he grabbed onto the bar, Irina felt her heart in her throat.
Ilya frowned in concentration, his tongue sticking out as he swung his little body with as much strength as he could to reach the next bar. He was determined to get to the end of bars today.
Three bars later and he was over halfway. He didn’t look over at Irina, too focused on reaching the next bar. He stretched out his fingers, so close! He felt his other hand slip and before he could even think, the bar had disappeared from his hand and the floor was rushing to meet his face.
He was too stunned to do anything other than sit there for a second. He frowned and stood up, turning to face Irina as she crouched down next to him.
‘Oh Ilyushenka, are you alright?’ she said, her voice soft with concern as she smoothed her hands down his arms.
‘Da.’ he nodded resolutely. ‘I want to go again.’
Despite herself she felt a laugh bubble in her throat. ‘Alright, Ilyusha. You can try again. But then we have to get back to Tetya Liza’s.’
Ilya sighed but he nodded. ‘Okay Mama.’ he walked back to the beginning of the monkey bars and climbed up the ladder, his face set with determination.
This time Ilya made it to the fifth bar before he felt his sweaty hands give up on him and he fell back down to the ground. Before he could pick himself up off the grass he heard a laugh from behind him.
He scowled and turned to face whoever was daring to mock him! The little boy across from him was taller and lankier, and his hair was much straighter than Ilya's golden curls.
Before Ilya could yell, the boy was opening his mouth to speak.
‘I always fall off the Monkey bars too!’ He sounded delighted.
Ilya wasn’t quite sure what to say, this boy didn’t sound like he wanted to make fun of him like Alexei would.
‘Do you want to play on the swings with me?’ he asked, tilting his head in a way that reminded Ilya of his Tetya’s dog.
Ilya glanced over his shoulder, to where Irina was walking over and frowned. ‘I think we have to go now. My Tetya is making borscht.’ He did not sound enthusiastic about the borscht.
The boy’s smile faltered slightly. ‘Oh.’
‘Hello there little one.’ Irina had reached them and had bent down to be level with the two boys. ‘My name is Irina, and this is my son, Ilya. What’s your name?’
‘Viktor!’ he exclaimed with enthusiasm. ‘Can Ilya play with me on the swings?’ he asked, turning his puppy-like charm towards Irina.
‘For a while.’ Irina nodded her head. ‘Where is your mama, Viktor? I would like to introduce myself.’
Viktor looked guilty and shifted his eyes away from Irina’s to take a look at the tree behind her.
‘She is at home.’ He paused before adding quickly, ‘Polina is looking after me today. She is my nanny, but I don’t think she likes me very much.’ He shrugged. ‘She thinks I talk too much.’ Viktor did not look like he agreed with Polina’s assessment of his character very much.
‘Where is Polina?’ Irina probed gently, holding back her concern as she surveyed the empty playground.
‘We were in the store.’ Viktor admitted with a sigh. ‘But I wanted to go to the park! I was so good all day,’ he said emphatically, ‘but she wouldn’t take me!’
Irina tried not to look worried. ‘Alright then boys, why don’t you go to the swings until Polina comes?’ She rested her hand reassuringly on Ilya’s back and smiled encouragingly at Viktor.
She stood up, watching them run off and sat back on the bench, intending to wait half an hour, before going to a police station.
Ilya loved the swings. He always felt like he was flying, and like he could go anywhere. Viktor had a happy look on his face as he kicked his feet against the ground.
‘The swings are my favourite.’ He said to Ilya. ‘Because they make me feel like I’m flying. The only thing better than the swings is being on the ice!’
Ilya gasped. ‘I love ice skating!’ he exclaimed. ‘I play for the hockey team. I am the best.’ He said confidently. ‘Coach says we are all very good but I know I am the best.’
Viktor frowned slightly. He was not a fan of hockey. ‘I prefer figure skating. It is prettier and there are no sweaty boys.’
Ilya shook his head. ‘Everyone gets sweaty when they skate. If you don't, you are not skating fast enough.’
They had slowed on the swings, and their feet were dragging on the ground. Viktor nodded his head, a frown on his face.
‘Maybe you are right.’ he allowed slightly hesitantly. ‘But figure skating is definitely prettier.’ He added quickly and definitively.
Ilya shrugged. ‘Probably. I don’t think hockey players care about pretty.’ He cracked a grin. ‘I will be the first. Best hockey player, and prettiest skater!’
Before Viktor could argue that he was going to be the prettiest skater, his attention was caught by shouting at the gate. He sighed.
‘Polina’. He tipped his back to look at the sky before standing up and dragging himself across the park, his head hung.
‘Viktor Andreyevich Nikiforov!’ she yelled. ‘How dare you run away from me! You know you’re not allowed outside by yourself!’
Irina interjected quickly, ‘Ah, you must be Polina! Viktor was telling us how he got separated from you at the store and wanted to come somewhere he knew you could find him.’ She winked at Viktor behind Polina’s back and he smiled at her.
‘Yes, Polina,’ He said, looking as contrite as he could. ‘It was an accident.’
Polina did not look like she believed him, but was too polite to yell at him any more in front of a stranger. ‘Hm.’
‘Irina, can Ilya come ice skating with me tomorrow?’ he asked.
Irina laughed, ‘Ilya can not stop talking about the ice.’ She shook her head fondly and brought her hand up to rest on Ilya's shoulder when he appeared from behind her. She turned to Polina. ‘If it is not getting in the way of your plans, I don’t mind bringing him by a rink.’
Polina shook her head. ‘No, if the boy wants to skate, he can. It will get Viktor out of my hair at least.’
Irina frowned but held her tongue. She was starting to see why Viktor had tried to get away from her at the store.
‘There is a public session at 3 tomorrow at the Yubileny ice rink.’ She said, holding out her hand to Viktor. ‘You know where that is?’
Irina nodded, ‘We will see you tomorrow then Viktor!’.
Both she and Ilya waved at him as he walked stiffly next to Polina. ‘Now we need to go and see tetya Liza! She is making borscht for dinner!’
Ilya groaned loudly. ‘I hate borscht.’
Irina laughed and ruffled his hair as they started walking back home.
—-
Ilya spent the next two weeks at the rink with Viktor, or at the park competing on the monkey bars. Irina had started packing snacks for both boys, and Viktor had quickly fallen in love with her.
The last day the Rozanovs were in St Petersburg, Viktor hugged her tightly and thanked her for looking after him.
When he and Ilya were sitting on the swings Viktor asked ‘Will I see you again?’
‘We come visit tetya Liza every year.’ Ilya nodded. If you come to the park in August I will be here.’
Viktor brightened. ‘You’re my best friend’ he said and immediately blushed.
But Ilya laughed and said ‘you’re my best friend too!’ They spent the rest of the afternoon competing as to who could swing higher without falling off.
When they went home, they each looked out their windows and looked at the stars, wishing they were back on the swings.
August 1999
The next summer, Viktor begged to go to the park every day in August. Polina had been fired because Viktor's parents thought he was old enough to be unsupervised at home now, so he tried to convince his parents to take him. He couldn’t wait to tell Ilya that Yakov Felstman had scouted him to join the novices that trained under him in September! Yakov Felstman!
His father was always busy with work, and his mother didn’t want to spend her afternoon at the parks, when she could be out with her friends, so Viktor hadn’t been able to go and see Ilya.
A week into August, Viktor snuck out of the house after lunch and waited at the park all afternoon. He went out every day for the next week, just in case. Ilya never came.
Viktor felt as though his heart was sinking with the sun, and tried his best to push down the hot feeling of shame that swelled in his chest. Of course Ilya hadn’t come back. Ilya was cool, and probably had lots of friends, why would he want to come to the park to see Viktor? Viktor who didn’t have any friends at school because he was too dramatic, too obsessed with skating. Viktor's own parents didn’t even want to spend time with him.
He walked back to the house slowly. At least the fact that his dad had spent the whole day in the study meant that he hadn’t even noticed Viktor had been missing.
That night, when Viktor was lying in bed, he let his tears roll down his face as he stared out the window. At least, he thought to himself, when I start my new skating program, I will not be alone.
—-
Ilya stared miserably out the window in the car. His father had been invited to a gala in St. Petersburg that summer, so he had come with Irina and the boys that summer.
All Ilya had wanted to do that summer was to go back to the park and see Viktor, but Grigori did not think that spending time at the park was a suitable activity for Alexei and Ilya, and had forbidden Irina from taking them.
Ilya knew better than to risk his anger, but he desperately wanted to go and see his best friend.
The two weeks in St. Petersburg had passed slowly, and Ilya was desperate for them to be over, despite the fact he had spent the better part of a year impatiently waiting to come so he could visit Viktor.
The suit he had been forced into was itchy and he hated how the collar was too tight. Alexei sat next to him on the expensive leather seats, looking entirely too self-important and smug.
When they got out of the car in front of the hall, Ilya gripped Irina’s hand and walked towards the doors with her. The two of them trailed after Alexei and Grigori as they made their way around, greeting everyone. Irina would occasionally slip Ilya an hors d’oeuvre, or pull a silly face when they were far enough behind them that Grigori wouldn’t hear Ilya’s giggle.
Irina and Ilya were slowly catching up to the group ahead of them, and they reached the edge just in time to hear, ‘And our son, Viktor.’
Ilya looked away from Irina, and his eyes met Viktors.
Grigori nodded. ‘My wife, Irina, and our children, Alexei, and Ilya.’ Irina squeezed Ilya’s hand and smiled at him, her eyes twinkling.
Ilya and Viktor stood next to each other, brimming with excitement. When there was a lull in conversation, Viktor hesitantly opened his mouth.
‘Papa, do you think Ilya and I could go and find something to eat?’
Andrei frowned, and looked at his watch. ‘Yes, go on then, so long as it is alright with Grigori, you may.
Grigori frowned. ‘Go on then Ilya, behave yourself.’.
Ilya smiled gratefully and the boys excused themselves. They turned and walked away as quickly as they could to the edge of the room where it was quieter.
‘Viktor!’ Ilya exclaimed. ‘I can’t believe you’re here!’
Viktor didn’t say anything for a second. Then without looking at Ilya, he asked him ‘Did you not want to be my friend? You didn’t come to the park.’ To Viktor's credit, his voice only shook slightly, and his eyes stayed blessedly dry.
Ilya shook his head quickly. ‘No! I do want to be your friend!’ He paused slightly before going on. ‘My papa does not always come with us to St. Petersburg. He was invited here this year though,’ he said, gesturing at the room. ‘He wouldn’t let us go to the park.
‘So you don’t think I’m weird?’ Viktor asked hesitantly.
‘No!’ Ilya said. ‘Well, actually you are kind of weird.’ Viktor dropped slightly. ‘But you’re weird like me!’ Ilya hurried to add. ‘I don’t know anyone else who loves skating as much as me.’
Viktor gasped. ‘Ilya, you’ll never guess what! Yakov Feltsman has invited me to skate with his novice class!’
Although Ilya didn’t care much about figure skating, this was still Russia, and Yakov Feltsman was certainly well known.
‘Wow! That's so cool!’ Ilya replied enthusiastically.
The boys spent the rest of the evening together in the corner of the room, sneaking hors d’oeuvres from unsuspecting waiters until it was time to leave.