Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Had Victor known how important that day was going to be, he’d have done things differently. 

(But you know what they say about hindsight… that it’s a cruel, mocking bitch and friend to no one.)

One of the fluorescents in the ceiling was blinking overhead, distracting Victor from Lamar’s rap in Radioactive blaring through his earphones. Never once in the four years that the team had been using this gym had the bulbs ever thrown a fit, and that, coupled with the gentle telltale cascade of shower droplets to the linoleum below were nothing but mild irritants when he first realised he wasn’t alone in the locker room. 

He didn’t much welcome any sort of change to routine, a creature of habit through and through. 

Looking up, he noticed the curtain drawn in the last stall, the silhouette of hands running down a slim figure becoming clear through the little-more-than-transparent, pink shower curtains. He spared a second to wonder who it could be, before deciding it didn’t matter either way. He enjoyed taking a few minutes to warm up, run laps around the field by himself before practice but given that those few minutes were of no deeper importance he didn’t mind the early bird too much. What’s in a day?

(Everything.)

Setting about his business, Victor unlaced his shoes and stripped off his jeans and t-shirt, the movements already beginning to steal the tension from his shoulders. The two hours spent on the hockey field were the break from his tiring days he knew he couldn’t do without. Technically, the exercise should leave him wearier, but nothing compared to the freedom of the dirty, open field, where everything except the sticks in their hands and the ball, playing hide-and-seek between their shoes, seized to matter. It was liberating and his body had learned to look forward to the pain and exhaustion that came after every practice.   

He was in the process of pulling out his jersey from his sports bag when he heard a little surprised squeak and looked up.

Wide, cognac eyes and lips forming a soft o of surprise greeted him. The boy was probably a junior, and definitely not on the hockey team for Victor had never seen him before. He was vaguely aware that dance practices were the closest to their slot but they usually ended by four every day. The gym was supposed to be strictly for the use of the hockey and basketball teams, but given how the latter had practice right after school and the former had them at five, there was generally no one around.

He must not have known Victor was already in the gym, for he had walked out of the shower naked and dripping wet, tan skin gleaming the way Victor could only dream of, given how easily he, himself got sunburned. Though the Japanese boy didn’t seem to mind his nudity awfully, for he gave Victor an acknowledging half-smile and moved to where his bag sat on the bench right by the Russian’s, which he had completely missed when he started undressing barely a foot from it.

“S-sorry, I thought I had a few minutes before anyone arrived.” The Junior’s hands worked quickly, tugging away the flaps on his bag, pulling out a fluffy towel and draping it around his shapely waist that curved smoothly into a bubbly ass and thick thighs. Victor decided it was a safe bet that this boy was on the dance team.

“I like to have the field to myself for a couple of minutes before anyone else gets here” Victor explained, smiling slightly. “It’s no big deal.”

The boy nodded, before pulling out a smaller, powder blue hand towel and running it across his neck. Victor watched as water droplets chased each other down the boy’s sharp collarbones and smooth abs before losing themselves in the fine fibers of the towel tied snugly around his hips. 

Victor tore his eyes away, lifting the jersey over his head and smoothing it down his chest, before resuming looking for his track pants. The boy sat down on the bench next to his bag and pulled out his boxers before trying to slip them on from under the towel.

The silence grew between them, and unable to help his curiosity, Victor asked, “You on the dance team?” 

The Japanese boy looked up from his self-inflicted tug of war with his towel and boxers, which Victor didn’t see the point of because he had seen everything moments ago anyway which the stranger didn’t seem to mind, and nodded. He didn’t appear eager to venture more information, however, so Victor continued to prod. 

“We have never had dancers using these showers before.” 

Bending down to tie up his laces, he didn’t catch the sheepish smile tugging on the boy’s face as he ran a hand through his jet black hair. Later, Victor would wonder if he dyed it because how else was it possible to have hair that dark and shiny? 

“Uh, yeah, I stayed back with Miss Okukawa today and when I got to our gym the janitor had already locked up.”

Humming in response, Victor straightened and noticed he had succeeded in pulling up his jeans too, towels now lying bundled up into smaller plastic bags, probably to avoid soaking the rest of his things. 

“Junior year?”, he asked conversationally, because what else was he supposed to do? Silence was too personal, too giving a thing to be shared with someone he didn’t know. It left gaping blanks and he had no control over what people decided to fill them up with. Victor had always felt safest in mindless chatter and small-talk.

“Yeah. I am Yuuri Katsuki.” 

The boy, Yuuri, gave him a watery smile that seemed polite at best, dis-engaging at worst. It left Victor feeling strangely untethered.

“Victor Nikiforov,” He was about to offer his hand the way he had always been taught to, just as Yuuri shoved his own back into his bag to look for his shirt, and the Russian was infinitely glad he didn’t catch the awkward fumble Victor did to retract his proffered handshake quickly.

A small noise of relief fluttered past Yuuri’s lips as he finally found his shirt and tugged it on. It was a well-fitting half-sleeved button-down in the most unflattering shade of teal but Victor reserved his fashion advice for friends so he refrained from allowing his lip to curl in distaste. 

Quickly, Yuuri buttoned up his shirt as Victor sat down and pulled out his phone, out of things to say in the face of Yuuri’s obstinate desire to not let any thread of conversation continue. Generally speaking, people went out of their way to talk to Victor so this was just a little strange. He was not used to anyone being disinterested in him.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he watched Yuuri slick his sloppy wet bangs back, the light from the ceiling bulbs catching the water droplets so that the thick locks appeared to shimmer, and alright, with that face he probably could pull this horrible shirt off but that didn’t mean it had any right to exist, really and…

Yuuri caught his eye and raised a brow before a smile quirked up his lips, smaller than the first and nicer somehow. Less icy. 

Victor almost smirked at the irony of that statement, wondering if that was how everybody on the receiving end of his own smiles felt.

“Nice to meet you, Victor. Best of luck with your practice.” 

“Thanks!” Victor called out behind Yuuri’s fast receding back, and that was it. That completely non-climatic meeting was the beginning of Victor’s undoing. 

(Victor Nikiforov wasn’t meant to exist in a world where he didn’t know Katsuki Yuuri.)

…

The next time Victor saw Yuuri was slightly more memorable, not that he had managed to forget the locker room scenes, as habitual as he was to forgetting anything vaguely unimportant. This time was in the school cafeteria, during lunch.

Yurio was blushing to the tips of his ears, which was new, and enraged, which wasn’t. 

“What’s happening?” Victor sat down in his usual seat and turned to Georgi and Christie.

It was Mila who answered him.

“Yura’s got a little crush and we’re going to get them talking.” She sang the last word out, her voice carrying clear over the ruckus of the lunch hour, and gave the violently screaming freshman a mocking shove of her shoulder. Victor had no idea how she managed to be that unafraid of Yuri Plisetsky but he had decided early on that he didn’t possess her skills.

Or suicidal tendencies. However you choose to look at it. 

“Oh?” He picked out his juice box, absently poking a straw into it.

“I just like his dance routines, you brainless hag!”

‘Yuuri dances.’ 

It was a fairly simple thought, a fairly simple thought that absolutely did not belong in Victor’s mind and hence, a surprise. Experimentally, Victor pawed at it and contrary to habit, found it pleasant enough to not be brushed away.

“You had him on your wallpaper.”, Mila teased. From behind her, Sara gave Victor an exaggerated eye-roll. Yuri spluttered, indignant.

‘And wait, what? Him?’  

All of a sudden, Victor’s eyes were scorching over Yuri’s profile with a newfound curiosity, picking at layers, examining and discarding them when he didn’t find what he was looking for. 

Yuri didn’t seem gay. 

“It’s not on you, Yurio” Mila remarked. A tan hand now tightened onto Mila’s shoulder, her cue to shut up which she promptly ignored. “He is too cute to resist.”

Victor hummed questioningly.

Slapping a hand over his mouth to muffle Yuri’s vicious complaints, Mila leaned over, eyes the size of saucers. She was enjoying this. 

“He leads the dance team, and God, his ass!”, Mila groaned and dunked her head down onto the table, continuing to mumble some more besotted nonsense. Victor snickered and cocked a brow at the blonde Freshman. 

“I never knew you were into pretty dancers, Yura.” 

Yuri tried to wrestle Mila’s hand away, only to get whacked up the head. 

“It’s not only that. He looks so cute, and so, I don't know, mysteriously aloof.” Sara supplied, tone amused at her own choice of words. Victor shared the sentiment. Mysteriously aloof? Really?

“He likes to keep to himself but given how popular he is, honestly feels like you are a part of an exclusive, special clique if you’re in his circle.” Was Georgi’s input.

"Can confirm,” Sara said.

“Wow. How have I never heard of him before? What was his name again?”, Victor asked. 

“Yuuri!” Mila hailed out loud, interrupting Georgi. Victor turned around and yes, it was him.

It was him.

He didn’t stop to question why it mattered or why his eyes narrowed immediately on the slender figure poised a few feet away from their table, only reveled in chocolate eyes brushing over him, and embellished his own face with a polite smile. 

The Japanese boy was wearing glasses today. They looked nice, gave him an air of intelligence.

Reluctantly, Yuuri waved at their table, only for Sara to ask him to come over while Mila whispered hushed taunts in Yuri’s pinking ear. He was surprised to find that was who Yuri had a crush on, but at the same time not. Yuuri Katsuki seemed like a perfectly decent man to lose your shit over, and if it was a little weird to share a name with your crush, well, that was Yuri’s business alone. At least he had better taste in men than in hoodies.

“Hi” Yuuri greeted them, received friendly smiles and waves from everyone, and an indignant glare from Yuri that he seemed to stutter at for a second before becoming hell-bent on ignoring.

“Come sit with us for today!” Sara gestured at the empty spot next to Victor before turning teasing eyes on Phichit Chulanont, who was apparently hanging out with Yuuri today.

“Phichit, you won’t mind parting with him for one day, would you?” Sara demanded, playfully. 

“Bring me Seung Gil’s number and I won’t.” Phichit cocked a neatly plucked, thick black brow as he smirked at the better Crispino twin. Yuuri playfully jabbed at his side. 

“Selling me out for booty, are you?” He questioned. His shoulders were tense, Victor noticed. 

(Of course, he noticed. He had spent so long plucking those chinks out of his own armor.)

“Deal!” Sara shouted before grabbing Yuuri’s hand across the table and tugging him down roughly, He spread his hands out to brace himself and while the left landed on the edge of the table, his right palm fell flat on top of Victor’s thigh, which he immediately retracted before Victor could even fully register the touch.

“S-sorry.” He muttered, sheepishly.

“You really need to stop starting our conversations with that.”, Victor chuckled and found his smile broadening in an involuntary attempt to ease the solitary wrinkle wedged between Yuuri’s brows.

Yuuri smiled. The wrinkle left. Victor’s eyes crinkled slightly. 

Opposite from them, a knife found itself wedged into the table. 

Alarmed, Victor turned to meet acid green eyes staring right into his with all the self-righteous ferocity he had forgotten fifteen-year-olds could possess. Curling his lip in dismissal, Yuri then turned to glare at Yuuri instead. 

“Get up. You aren’t needed here.” He ground out and Victor found his eyes widening. 

To Yuri’s right, Mila gasped.

Yuuri frowned slightly. 

“Excuse me?” 

“You heard me, pig. Get up so I don’t have to watch you two make eyes at each other and can actually eat my lunch.”

In a second, Victor deflated in exasperation, shaking his head at his cousin. What was this? Petty jealousy? Yuri knew he was straight!

Giving Yuri an unimpressed glare, he turned to Yuuri. The Japanese man’s expression was pinched again and before he knew it Victor found himself tapping a finger against Yuuri’s clenched ones, drawing the brunette’s attention to himself. 

“Don’t mind him. He’s a child, angsty phase and all that.” 

“Doesn’t give him any right to be a fucking dick.” Phichit sneered from where he stood behind Yuuri, arms folded and eyes brimming with anger. Victor had played on the same team as Chulanont for two years now and he knew the Thai reserved this expression of pure contempt for the field. 

Clearly, Yuuri was important to him. 

Before more words could be exchanged, Yuuri was out of his seat and pushing Phichit away, while Mila slapped a hand on Yuri’s mouth again, who seemed to be trying to incinerate the Thai boy with the intensity of his glare, now that spewing verbal poison was out of the question.

Victor shook his head at the absurdity of it all.

…

That night found Victor lounging in his room, Def Leppard blaring on the huge dec system his parents still didn’t approve of him having, procrastinating when he knew he should be working like any high-schooler worth the title. On nights like this one, he would pretend his mother was calling for him and that he wasn’t responding, choosing to ignore her for his favorites of Classic Rock. In reality, he would never dare to ignore his parents, blaming the loud volume for whatever few seconds of delay he ended up causing being the height of his rebellion.

Presently, he was alone in the house, save for the servants who won’t bother to smile at Victor, and whose names in turn Victor never bothered to learn. It was a calculated relationship of measured disregard and it was the least strained relationship Victor had with anyone in the house. 

Scrolling through Instagram, he stifled a yawn, fingers sweeping across his phone screen mindlessly till a username caught his attention and he sat up. 

yuuri.katsuki

He hadn’t seen him again after Yuri’s outburst in the cafeteria but he did meet Phichit during practice. When he asked him if Yuuri was fine he received a smile and a ‘don’t worry' but that was the extent of his contact with the Japanese boy for the day. Curiously, he clicked onto the Instagram ID flashing in his suggestions, fingers already poised to hit follow when he realized the ID was private and had a low follower count of 139, while the following list was bursting at 2,814. 

He wondered if Yuuri would accept his request. Not paying it too much mind, he clicked on the blue bar before moving to the solitary blue link displayed in Yuuri’s otherwise empty bio. 

He was redirected to a YouTube account.

A few glances at the titles of the clips listed revealed it was the official account of their school’s dance team, the Downtown Dragons. Who came up with that ridiculous name was still as big a mystery as who stuck gum in Rebecka Warren’s hair before Prom last year but everybody’s money was on their principal given her reluctance to change it. 

Secretly Victor thought the legendary Okukawa Minako was enough of an undercover dork to have picked that name, too.

His eyes narrowed on the thumbnail of the second clip, and what looked to be Yuuri in the little square. He clicked on it. 

Victor knew that song. It was by Zella Day and he was pretty sure it was called Hypnotic or Hypnotised or Hypnosis or something along those lines. On the screen, the solitary figure of who he recognised as Isabella Yang, JJ’s long term girlfriend, was in a crouch, doing some frankly difficult looking lock-and-pop shoulder movements in time with the building tempo of the song before rising to her feet and sauntering confidently to the middle of the room. The lyrics started flowing, a movement followed it to the side, and oh. 

There he was. Victor’s eyes hadn’t deceived him. 

Twenty seconds into Yuuri joining Isabella and he had completely overshadowed her, despite not being the lead. Victor didn’t know anything about dancing beyond what any frequent partier would, that is to say, absolutely nothing when it came to professional dancing. Yet, it was clear even to his unseasoned eyes that Yuuri was incredibly talented, his body moving with a liquid grace which formed a stark contrast against the strictly controlled and measured step sequences his legs were effortlessly following. At one point, he twirled Isabella, bringing her head to rest against the back of his right hand before dipping her to the left in the jerky, short movements that seemed to characterize this number. Then he stepped over her frame and their bodies met together in twin waves, hips colliding in a singular grind before they pulled away, expressions just the right edge of teasing, flirting. 

The tempo of the song was too heavy to be playful. It was heady, consuming. Yuuri paused and licked his lips as his eyes ran over Isabella’s dainty fingers walking up the sides of her body. They had chemistry together, and they portrayed the song’s sexual tension so well it had Victor’s knuckles turning white on the edges of his phone. He couldn’t look away from them, from him. 

Before he knew it, the video had ended and he was replaying it, eyes lapping up the sensual twists of the body he had seen naked just a handful of days ago, and really, why had he never heard of Yuuri before?

Most of the videos on the channel featured Yuuri, some in a group, others solo, and yet more where he was partnered with Isabella. Victor subscribed to the channel and promised himself he would allow himself two more clips of solo Yuuri before he finally got down to the Geography assignment he had due the next day. He would stop after two last videos, he swore. 

He didn’t. Then again, he reasoned, who could ever look away from Yuuri?

He was just that good. 

(Victor had seen nothing yet.)

Chapter Text

The sound of someone calling his name cut through the muted, meaningless babble of the crowded hallways. Yuuri paused and allowed Isabella to catch up with him. 

She pushed her bangs out of her face in a frustrated motion as she came shoulder-to-shoulder with him, looping her free arm around his. Her hairstylist had experimented with the style and length of her bangs, and she had yet to grow to like them. 

Giving up on her more-than-perfect bob, which Yuuri would kill to have the bone structure to pull off, she turned to eye him with a huff. From the faint wrinkle between her brows, he knew he was better off agreeing with whatever she was about to demand. 

“JJ wanted to go try out that soda pop place Leo tagged in his snap yesterday. Wanna come along?” 

Yuuri’s eyes crinkled in confusion. 

“And be the third wheel who gets token attention but is otherwise ignored? Like a Christmas card to a distant relative you don’t actually want to invite for dinner.” 

“Oh no, it’s not a date.” Isabella waved her hand around, dismissing his concerns with ease. She was so used to his behavior, she barely blinked an eye at his response. Yuuri had to bite back a grin. “I know he is probably going to ask his friends from the hockey team, anyway.”

“So I am not the third wheel. I am the compensation he offered you.” He smirked and watched Isabella roll her eyes. 

She didn’t deign to respond and wordlessly started dragging him over towards the gates.

“How’d the date go?”

Yuuri hummed, wondering how to put ‘she was trying so hard to get to know me that I basically got overwhelmed and proceeded to ignore her for my phone for the rest of the afternoon’ without making it obvious that he acted like a major dick. Anastasia had looked hurt and angry when they parted ways, and if Yuuri was in her place he would have made it a point to unload all the disgusting details of their ‘date’ in front of every single person at school the very next day, so he didn’t really know why Isabella, or absolutely anyone, was unaware of what had happened.

He still wasn’t sure why she hadn’t just gotten up and left. He would have. 

“I messed up.” He put it simply and as expected, Isabella’s mouth formed into the scowl she and Phichit had collectively adopted as a means of thwarting Yuuri’s self-deprecating streak.

“I am not,” he continued. “Trust me, I am not being insecure or anxious or whatever you guys use in place of ‘honest’ these days. I really, really messed up and I should apologize.” 

Isabella gave him a long look, narrow blue eyes making Yuuri look away and chuckle to try to diffuse some of the air of cold scrutiny she seemed to be projecting. Finally deciding to take Yuuri’s words at face value, she sighed and looked away. 

“You aren’t going to, though.” She pointed out, and Yuuri winced because- personal attack much? He didn’t counter the statement, however. He tried to avoid outright lying as much as possible.

“Well, now she knows when they tell you to avoid creepy math nerds with shady pasts, you listen.” Yuuri attempted a joke and then cringed. This was bad, even by his standards. 

“Literally nobody tells anyone that but I will have to admit, flying over from Japan for studies is the most chilling origin story possible.” She rolled her eyes again. Yuuri would make a jab about looking for her brains back in her head but he figured he had exhausted his daily quota of lame jokes.

“How’s the program coming along?” He questioned instead. 

Isabella gave him an unimpressed glance because they practiced together every day and Yuuri knew exactly how the program was coming along but she allowed him this escape, moving on to chatter about her entrance program for the women’s dance competition neither of them bothered to try pronouncing the name of. 

The office of the security guards was by the gates, and all high-schooler boarders had to enter their exit time before leaving and return before their curfew, which was 7 in the evening if they needed to go anywhere. Isabella waited outside as Yuuri quickly entered the office and headed towards the computer to scan his fingerprint and sign out. Smiling at the grumpy, red-haired man who never smiled back at anyone, ever he finished the technicalities and moved to sign the register page, quickly skimming his eyes up the list of names that had signed out already. 

JJ had left, but Phichit hadn’t. Leo’s name appeared right underneath JJ’s though, so he was probably coming along. 

Yuuri shut the register, placed the pen back in the holder, and turned to leave, fishing out his phone and shooting a text asking Phichit where he was. There was no way JJ invited Leo but didn’t invite Phichit. 

The response came as he and Isabella headed towards a group of hockey jerseys Yuuri could make out from the corner of his eye. ‘Over in a minute.’- the message read. Yuuri was so caught up typing out a reply asking Phichit to hurry that he didn’t look up till he had stepped on someone’s shoe.   

Yuuri wasn’t counting on Victor to be one of the ‘friends’ Isabella said JJ might call, though he didn’t know why. He knew the two were close, or JJ considered them to be so, at least.

“Shit, I am sorry!” He held his hands up, hastily backing away. Victor looked up into his eyes, and a moment later, they were both snickering. 

“You’re never going to learn, are you?” Victor shook his head. His picture-perfect smile divulged into the category of something caused by actual amusement and Yuuri internally preened at having managed to get a somewhat genuine reaction from the Victor Nikiforov who’s every expression seemed tailored to deliver carefully calculated impressions that left Yuuri strangely frustrated every time he caught sight of them. 

How could one man be so plastic? 

Yuuri grinned, shoulders sagging in the face of Victor’s twinkling eyes. It was always his eyes, his startlingly clear blue eyes that gave away how little he meant what he put forward. 

“I forbid you to apologize to me ever again.” Victor teased. 

“Sorry,” Yuuri drawled “What makes you think you have any authority over me?” 

Victor’s shoulders lifted in a shrug of laughter. “I do have authority over myself and I refuse to listen to another one of your apologies.”

“Would suggest cotton, it’s a lot softer and nicer than plastic earplugs. I don’t have any on me right now though.” His grin widened. “Sorry.” 

Viktor shook his head, but before he could respond, a furious hiss and the click of someone’s tongue distracted Yuuri. 

He turned around to see Isabella, JJ, Leo, and two other kids he couldn’t name watching them in amusement. The blonde junior from the breakfast table the day before was also there, rolling his eyes exaggeratedly, probably the source of the angry sounds. Yuuri held back a sigh. He didn’t know what the toddler always seemed so angry about but it clearly had something to do with him and he really didn’t care to find out. 

He gave Victor a tired glance, who shrugged in response. 

“Yo, Yuri look! Your wet dream!”

Yuuri turned around to Leo but it soon became apparent the American was talking to the blonde junior. Yuuri didn’t know they shared a name. 

The group turned to look at who Leo was calling the kid’s wet dream in an embarrassingly obvious manner, but Victor, JJ, and Isabella combined were easily the three most popular students on campus, apart from Phichit himself. It wasn’t like anyone was going to make them feel bad about it. Yuuri on his end tried to be discreet. His gaze parsed through the hordes of students on their way out of the building to pick out Christophe Giacometti making his way to his yellow Lambo and well okay, that made sense. 

The other Yuri probably didn’t think so and embarked on a heavy, filthy rant, Leo’s collar bunched up in his bony fist. JJ, who’d been uncharacteristically silent till now, quickly swooped in and dragged the blonde teen away, arms secure around his waist. 

A shorter, brown-haired boy quickly stepped in front of Leo, who was still laughing at the seething junior. 

Yuuri needed Phichit to get there as soon as possible. He was already feeling overwhelmed and out of the loop, here. He only really knew Isabella and JJ but they knew everyone, clearly.

“I mean remember our cheat list, Bella?” JJ asked from where he was still holding on to Yuri, who was basically frothing at the mouth now. Yuuri didn’t even want to be around the kid, much less hold him in a chokehold. “Add Giacometti to it. I am confident enough in my sexuality to say if he ever came on to me I won’t turn him down.”

“You’re disgusting, man! Let go of me!” Yuri screamed and JJ loosened his hold, latching on just barely to keep the snarling teen away from a snickering Isabella. 

“We get you, Yuri. Chris is everyone’s wet dream and he’s fucking proud of it.” 

Yuuri didn't know why he turned to Victor just then.

“As he should be. That ass is perfect.” The brown-haired boy next to Leo provided. He looked only about as old as the other Yuri, probably a sophomore. 

He didn’t know why Victor’s jaw was tight, eyes a spearing shard of ice, cold and clearly displeased. 

“It’d be criminal to turn him down!” Isabella protested. Christophe had long since driven away. 

... and Yuuri didn't know why he was more uncomfortable with the rapidity with which Victor schooled his expression than his upset expression in the first place

Yuuri soon found out the two kids he didn’t know, knew his name already, and felt even shittier. The moment Phichit joined them and was done bestowing his excited ‘hellos’ onto everyone, the Japanese pulled him aside and asked for their names. 

They were both sophomores, Guang-Hong Ji and Emil Nekola. Yuuri committed their names to memory, repeating them under his breath so obviously that Victor noticed and sent him a teasing smirk. 

“Ciao Ciao was being such a dick today I legit threw a book at him.”, Phichit whined out as he took his usual place at Yuuri’s arm. He didn’t seem to have noticed Yuri, yet which Yuuri was thankful for. Phichit really didn’t take well to people who misbehaved with his friends and he hadn’t forgiven the junior for their interaction in the cafeteria the day before. 

“That’s not new. Every once in a while, he cycles back to this manic mode and drives everyone fucking crazy. I can’t fit everyone in my car. Are we walking?” Isabella threw the question at no one in particular. 

Yuuri turned just in time to catch Victor’s startled yelp as JJ stabbed his back with his forefingers. 

“No one is walking. What did you think we invited this pretty lad here for?” 

“The charms of my company, I would hope?”

“Your Q7, more like. I think we’d be fine between his car and Isabella’s.” 

…

Yuuri didn’t know why these people were friends with him. Every time he rode in Isabella’s Mercedes he remembered how different they truly were. He wasn’t popular or rich or gorgeous or any of the adjectives the student body used to describe Phichit, Isabella, or JJ. He was a transfer student on a scholarship who actually came here for the school’s hockey team but never could bring himself to go for the trials. 

So, he had settled for the dance team and refused to mention it to anyone ever. Dancing was familiar, dancing was safe, dancing was the cocoon he had wished to break out of so that he could fully spread his wings and show the world the breathtaking talent his family and friends back home kept insisting he had. 

He hadn’t succeeded, clearly but he didn’t allow himself to wallow in self-pity. It was useless. Given how he was the one who sabotaged his own chances, he knew he didn’t even deserve that much from himself. 

The car rocked out of a pothole Isabella had failed to see because JJ kept trying to show her something on his phone. The familiar jazz tunes he heard every evening in the dance studio were playing in the car. It was Isabella’s competition music and Yuuri had to admit, it was a great song for her, catchy, upbeat, and softly sensual. JJ loved it just as much, he had been told. 

Next to him, Phichit and Emil were bitching about a classmate Yuuri knew by name but couldn’t attach a face to. Leo had decided to ride with Guang-Hong and Yuri in Victor’s car. 

Victor was pretty, rich, and popular too but it didn’t come as naturally to him as it did to the other three. Victor had always maintained a careful facade, of sorts, and it was none of Yuuri’s business, really, if he did. He just couldn’t understand why no one else picked up on it. 

The cafe they were headed to was supposed to be just around the corner but was somehow taking over ten minutes to reach. It was the after-school/lunch hour rush and Yuuri turned his gaze out of the window. 

Victor’s smile was beautiful when it wasn’t forced to look perfect. His upper lip would dip in a vague heart shape, lopsided and toothy, and his nose did a little scrunch that was absolutely adorable. 

“What you smiling at?”

Yuuri turned to look at JJ upfront. He hadn’t realized he was smiling. 

“I didn’t know you knew Victor.”, Isabella supplied. 

“I don’t.” Nobody seemed to. 

…

The cafe was cute but very pink, with pink walls and magenta curtains and pastel furniture and framed purple modern art. Yuuri wasn’t one for chocolate soda pops but he ordered it because he was craving a change in the color scheme.

It came in a pink cup with a white straw.

His best friend, self-proclaimed social media king, self-proclaimed cameraman of the year, self-proclaimed selfie-artist extraordinaire Phichit Chulanont, was having the time of his life, getting Guang-Hong to click him in various spots around the cafe. His feed was going to be very pink once he was done with his ongoing monochrome theme. 

His phone chimed on the table in front of him.

“Hawwwww Yuuri you complete f-boy!” JJ gesticulated in mock horror. “You’re texting Phichit’s man behind his back! And only days after your date with sweet ole Anastasia!” 

Seung-Gil’s name flashed angrily in his notifications. Yuuri turned the phone over. 

“We’re partners for our Chem project and I only have his Snapchat which Phichit does too but refuses to text him on for some reason.” He explained calmly, refusing to comment on the Anastasia bit. He hoped JJ would catch the hint and drop the subject, but he should’ve known that was stupid. 

“Wait, you’re the one who went out with Anastasia last weekend?” Emil frowned and oh no. Yuuri sent Isabella a panicked glance but before she could respond JJ decided to open his big, fat mouth and ruin everything. 

“So? Did you score?” 

“I heard she went home crying.” Victor took a noisy sip of his soda pop and Yuuri had never wanted to punch someone so bad before. 

“What did you do?” JJ laughed, probably not getting that Victor really wasn’t joking. “Performance anxiety keep you down, my man?” 

An indignant squawk followed and Yuuri hoped that was Isabella stomping down on JJ’s foot. 

“I don’t know what happened. I didn’t drive her back home.” And if she was choosing to be the bigger person and not throwing him under the bus he wasn’t going to confess in front of people who were practically strangers for all intents and purposes and ruin her efforts. 

“She didn’t say?”, Victor asked. Yuuri sipped his drink in a noisier fashion than Victor could ever imagine and counted it as a victory that others just couldn’t see he had achieved… because they didn’t know he was competing… in soda sipping. 

“No.” 

“Oi piggy,” blonde Yuri began and sighing, Yuuri just accepted that was his nickname now. “Did you even call back?” 

He hadn’t. 

“Did you guys see the picture Jayde uploaded on Instagram yesterday? Do you think she got a lipo?” It wasn’t smooth of Isabella but Yuuri was very grateful, anyway. 

Victor, who was either very passionate about cosmetic surgeries or had finally noticed Yuuri was uncomfortable, jumped onto the topic, and together, he and Isabella didn’t let it die down till they felt Yuuri was safe. 

Yuri didn’t stop glaring at him like he was the lowest of the low. 

He didn’t try to insist he wasn’t, even in the confines of his own mind.  

…

Since there were no practices scheduled for the day, Isabella and Victor flipped a coin and decided Victor would drive JJ, Yuuri, Phichit, and Leo back to school. Yuuri rode shotgun. 

In the backseat, the three had devolved into hostel gossip. In the front, Victor gave Yuuri a glance out of the corner of his eye before turning back to the road. 

“You’re a great dancer.” 

“Oh.” Then, he remembered his manners. “Thank you. Just been doing it for a long time, I guess.” 

“Let me present an alternative. You will find, ‘Thank you. I am just that talented’ to be a more accurate response.”

Yuuri chuckled awkwardly because he couldn’t decide how else to respond to something like that. Sure, enough people had previously assured him of his talents multiple times but they were his friends or family members. He didn’t even know where Victor saw him performing. 

So he asked the Russian boy. 

“The YouTube link in your bio” Victor said. 

“Bio?” Yuuri frowned. He knew what link he was talking about but what the hell was a bio? 

“Instagram.” Victor shrugged. 

“Oh, you call that bio?”

“Everyone does.” His lips quirked up and Yuuri nodded, sheepishly. 

“You didn’t get my follow request?”

“Don’t take it personally if he doesn’t accept it for months.” Phichit chose that moment to insert himself into their conversation because he had an in-built radar for whenever someone mentioned Yuuri and social media in the same breath. “He doesn’t check his social media, like ever!” 

Yuuri flipped off the Thai boy and immediately pulled out his phone, opening the app to his overflowing notifications. There were quite a lot of requests and he promised himself to sort through them later, presently accepting Victor’s and moving to send one in return. He watched as the tab next to his username turned from the blue ‘follow’ to the white ‘following’.  

“There!” He declared, feeling stupidly self-satisfied. Victor huffed out a laugh as Phichit and JJ crowed loudly. 

“Thank you.” Victor inclined his head and Yuuri watched as his fringe brushed the high of his cheekbone, listened as his deep voice mixed in with the cacophony of their companion’s loud voices and yet remained distinct, rich. Yuuri nodded again and shied away when he saw Phichit giving them a weird look from the rear-view mirror.

He felt a sudden need to shrug off his seatbelt and tucked his palms under his thighs, just in case, you know. 

Chapter Text

Victor watched the smoke curl away from his mouth, brought the joint back to his lips, and inhaled the bitter fumes again. He supposed, to Yuri who was lounging on his bed and gazing at his back, he was the picture of a man deep in contemplation but swimming in the haze of pricey hash hitting just right, his head was quieter now than it had been the entire day.

… because Chris fucking Giacometti had been there. 

Objectively he knew it was stupid to hope to avoid his ex-friend forever when they went to the same school and lived on the same street but Victor’s brain had an unparalleled ability to make it seem like if he ignored them hard enough, his problems would go away. That never happened. Victor never learned.  

He was trying to ignore it after all. 

He tipped his head back as the drug started hitting right. Eyelids drooped lower and lower, fingertips were raised to lips again and again, till Victor was no longer blinking but hanging off the railing in his balcony with his eyes half-closed. It was dangerous, but the wind was pleasantly cool tonight, and the joint smoldering between his fingertips made him feel like he was a tad invincible. 

Like 1/4 of Captain America.

He giggled, Yuri groaned. There was the distinct sound of angry teen stomping and then he was being pulled away from the balcony and dumped onto his bed. 

He fell back and waited for someone to climb on top of him, and laughed when no one did. 

Yuri snatched the joint from his hand and marched away. 

…

Victor had a high alcohol tolerance and a shitty drug tolerance. He knew that. 

He also knew that he didn’t hit the deep end once he got off the high, he just… lost the ability to sleep for the next twelve hours straight. 

That was why he was up at 3 A.M. on a school night, listlessly scrolling Instagram. His phone was balanced precariously between his flaccid fingers, arm aching from holding it up like that. He would give it thirty-seven seconds tops before it fell right on his face. 

He shook his head, flipped over onto his front, and put up token resistance as his thumb glazed over to the explore page and typed in a username in the search bar like it already had twelve times before. The phone spat out a suggestion at him, knowing, mocking, before he could so much as enter the third letter of Yuuri’s user. 

Well, he wasn’t to be blamed. The guy had a ridiculously aesthetic-looking Instagram wall. 

He was the sort of person who took grade-A pictures of random shit, put on the same filter on every single one of them, and ended up making a really pretty and really impersonal ID which gave nothing away as to who he was and Victor couldn’t help thumbing over and comparing it to his own wall, where every single picture was a carefully picked, gorgeous shot of him. Similarly pretty, similarly impersonal. 

They both seemed well-versed in hiding away. Victor didn’t know if that was what drew him to Yuuri’s account again and again but he couldn’t stop scrolling down the thousands of pictures, dogs, ice-creams, his laptop, coffee cups, stage lights, and god knows what else. You name it, Yuuri had clicked it. He seemed to enjoy sticking to a theme at least, even if that theme was ‘go through a horde of dumb shit and don’t learn a single thing about me.’ 

Victor groaned with brimming frustration. He felt thrown off like he was being denied something that was rightfully his, as ridiculous as that sounded. He felt a dry chuckle rise in his throat when he remembered how often Chris used to call him an arrogant, entitled ass… before a borderline genius idea struck him. 

He moved on to check Yuuri’s tagged pictures.    

And, oh.

He grinned as he clicked on the first clip which Phichit had posted and tagged Yuuri in. The background was basic lavender walls and a bunk bed, the lower bunk of which Yuuri presently occupied. The Japanese boy had his feet propped up on the wall, garish orange shorts riding up his muscular thighs as he made speculative gestures in the air and talked… to himself… in Japanese… out loud. 

Victor snorted.    

Phichit, it seemed hoarded content of Yuuri; dumb boomerangs of him falling over and bumping into things and immediately proceeding to apologize to them, compilations of Yuuri scrunching his nose before realizing that didn’t actually help in righting his glasses and using his fingers next with a sheepish grimace, videos from his dance practices which Victor may or may not have saved, and clips of Yuuri going on angry rants about things as stupid as the world’s hatred for pineapple on pizza. 

Victor loved pineapple on pizza, and he had never felt more proud of it. 

That wasn’t all. Phichit also loved taking beautiful pictures of and with Yuuri. The Thai boy knew his selfie game, which was a fact Victor also objectively knew but actively spent time avoiding because it had been thrown around once or twice (or maybe a couple of hundred times) before that Phichit’s selfie game was stronger than Victor’s and nobody challenged it. He was still bitter about that, and he guessed his total devotion to speed-liking and moving past Phichit’s posts within a second was why he never came across Yuuri before. 

Which was a waste because Yuuri was quite interesting. 

An hour or so later, Victor had exhausted Phichit’s reserve of Yuuri documentation and moved on to JJ and Isabella, who also had a few shots with Yuuri, but not a lot. Clearly, they didn’t understand what amazing pictures one could get with the cute Japanese guy. He seemed to brighten up every shot he was in. 

Victor felt an intense need to tell Yuuri that. Maybe that would convince him to post his own face on his ID. 

Victor’s thumb moved over to the chatbox and he had already opened it before he realized what time it was. There was no way Yuuri would be up at this hour, he was convinced. Imagine his surprise then, when he saw the tiny green dot blinking beside Yuuri’s username at the top of the chatbox, indicating he was online. 

All cleared, Victor moved to type in a ‘hey’ before his thumb stuttered to an awkward pause. 

His mind raced to decide if it’d be appropriate to text Yuuri like this, with no context or reason and his heart screamed that it absolutely won’t. It was only Victor’s legendary self-control that kept him from locking the device and chucking it away at the wave of nervousness that arose from within. 

Yuuri didn’t seem overly keen on talking to Victor this evening, he remembered. 

He huffed because this was stupid. It was starting a conversation with someone who loosely fell into the category of a friend and Victor had done this a million times before. There was nothing weird about messaging him. 

He exited out of the chat box anyway. If you asked him he’d tell you it was because of how late it was. Just because Yuuri was up at 4 didn’t mean it was appropriate to text him at 4 after all. 

Losing interest in his phone, he pushed it away and moved to his laptop instead, determined to find something worth watching on Netflix.  

…

“Do you text your friends good morning?” Victor called Yuri that morning at 6, as soon as he deemed it socially acceptable. Yuri disagreed, in wildly colorful language.

“I don’t have friends. Period.” Victor wondered why Yuri sounded proud of that, then reminded himself he was angsty and moved on, not willing to deal with this for now. 

It was nice to wake up to a good morning text, wasn’t it? It showed you somebody was thinking of you. Victor didn’t think it was weird, really. He was just checking because he didn’t really know Yuuri and all that. 

“Okay but imagine if you had a friend, and like, a new one, someone you’re still trying to be close with. Would you text them good morning?” 

Victor was ready for another string of abuse, for a scream so loud it would shatter his eardrums if he wasn’t so used to it, even for the phone to just be hung up. He wasn’t ready for the deep, cautious tone of voice Yuri broke out next. 

“Don’t bother. Nobody likes that.” 

Victor was fairly sure he was lying but he decided not to take the risk anyway. 

…

He was still thinking of a good ice-breaker when he parked his car in the school parking lot that morning, screen open to Yuuri’s page underneath his thumb. He unplugged his phone from the music system, locked and pocketed it before grabbing his backpack from the back and bringing it to the front seat. Noticing he still had some coffee left in his cup, he gave his watch a glance and settled back to finish it, given he had arrived fairly early and had some time before the bell rang. 

Now that he didn’t have the excuse of it being too late, he had moved on to it being school time to justify his uncharacteristic hesitation in texting the man. It didn’t mean he could put it out of his mind, however. 

Slurping the last few dregs of the nearly cold latte Victor surveyed the students milling about the parking lot. It was a rare experience, sitting back and observing, and not one he particularly craved anyway. There was something completely disarming about the anonymity of being away from everyone’s eyes and yet exposed to them, surrounded. He felt like he could do anything in these stolen pockets of time, could be anyone without fearing a nameless stranger’s response.

As it was, he often didn’t know how to act in those spaces. They felt like cracks in a mask he couldn’t let break. 

Grabbing his bag and phone, he got out of the car, locking it and casting a glance around himself for the trashcan that adamantly changed its position every damn day, almost as if it wanted the students to litter around. 

Finally locating it and finding it within chucking-and-safely-landing distance, Victor aimed carefully and threw the scrunched cup into the can. A cheerful ‘whoo’ followed, and he turned around to see Georgi and Christie making their way towards him. 

Victor took a deep breath, never thought to question what he was bracing himself for, and slapped a grin onto his lips.

“Morning!” He called out. And see? He wished them good morning, why was he so afraid to wish Yuuri? 

Oh right, because it was school time already. 

They both called out similar greetings and before long Christie had her an arm each on both the Russians’ necks. Victor’s shoulders tightened. He was back in the familiar bubble where he knew who he was supposed to be and that was someone who never had to hesitate so much about starting a conversation with a guy he found interesting.

…

Victor wondered if the only times he would come across Yuuri was on these off chances that he couldn’t count on. There was no guarantee of them repeating after all.

The pained moans coming from the dance studio were definitely Yuuri’s, and Victor, who was on his way to the water cooler in the main building before practice started because he had forgotten his bottle at home like an amateur, recognized them at once. 

For a second he had wondered if Yuuri wasn’t actually in pain and if those moans indicated quite the opposite but a vehement hiss had followed that laid his doubts to rest. Yuuri definitely wasn’t fucking a girl in there, or if he was, he had to be a heavy masochist to sound so tortured. 

He pushed the doors open the moment he became convinced that Yuuri was in pain, and his eyes were immediately drawn to where Yuuri lay curled into a ball on the floor, jaw lying open in heavy pants, fingers clutching his right calf, his yoga pants rolled up from there. In a second, Victor was by his side, a frantic shout of the other guy’s name tearing out of his mouth almost against his will. 

Yuuri’s cognac eyes shot wide open and he tried to sit up even as Victor came to kneel beside him. 

“I-I, ah! I am fine.” He hissed, teeth kissing, lips pulled back in clear distress. Victor wondered who he was trying to fool. 

“What’s wrong?” He questioned insistently. “Where does it hurt?” His hands moved to the calf Yuuri was clutching before the other guy could answer at all, fingers stubbornly spreading over the muscles there despite Yuuri trying to bat his hands away. 

The moment his palm touched Yuuri’s unnaturally taut calf he knew. A cramp, a bitch of a cramp, if Victor knew anything. 

“Give it here.” Victor grabbed Yuuri’s thigh and straightened out his leg from under him. Yuuri keened in pain the moment Victor’s hands fell on him. At least he had given up on insisting he was okay. 

Frowning, Victor started moving his hand up and down the muscle like Coach Yakov had taken care to teach everyone on the hockey team. Yuuri panted but seemed insistent on not crying out again if his tongue tucked between his teeth was any indication. 

Under Victor’s expert hands, the cramp started relieving itself soon enough, the stress in the muscle disappearing under the consistent heat of the Russian’s palm. Yuuri sagged in relief as he felt the pain recede. 

The cramp wasn’t even completely gone before Yuuri was hissing again, the elbows he was resting on collapsing underneath him, his calf muscles bunching back with a bitter vengeance. 

“Shit. Okay, ssshhh.” Victor hushed his screaming head because Yuuri wasn’t making any sound, despite how painful it must’ve been for him. 

Sliding out from in front of him, Victor brought Yuuri’s staggering form to rest against his own chest as he leaned forward and changed the angle of his massage, hands quickening and applying more pressure to help relieve the tightening. Yuuri’s head rolled back onto his shoulder as he squinted his eyes shut.  

“It’s okay, it’s okay. Don’t clench your muscles, relax.” He muttered frantically, only subconsciously aware of the other boy's choking grip on the neck of his jersey. 

Thankfully, the cramp didn’t return once it left this time and Yuuri melted in the cradle of Victor’s arm as he continued massaging the calf even after all the stress was gone, bending and stretching Yuuri’s leg in different positions to make sure it won’t return. 

Yuuri struggled to catch his breath again, and the soft tufts of breaths brushing against the side of Victor’s neck alerted the both of them as to how Yuuri had tucked his head under Victor’s jaw in his distress, and the Senior had come to lean his head over Yuuri’s face protectively. 

A weird tingly feeling ran down Victor’s spine and dazed, he watched Yuuri pull away with a choked yelp, hands still bunched in the hockey jersey not allowing him to move very far away while simultaneously tugging the Russain forward. Victor lost his balance and his hands instinctively moved to brace himself against the floor, bracketing Yuuri between them. 

Their chests brushed together, and Victor filed away the flecks of black blending against the chocolate of Yuuri’s eyes to admire later. Nose to nose, both broke into a surprised chuckle. 

“I- uh, thanks.” Yuuri said, and when he broke eye contact, in his usual skittish manner, Victor registered the strange need to grab his jaw and force him to let him see his eyes again. 

“You’re welcome, Yuuri.” He tried to smile and it sat weird on his face. 

Instead, he pulled his legs back under him, gathered Yuuri up in his arms again, and stood up. 

Immediately Yuuri was clamming up in his arms, hand gesticulating wildly as he insisted he was fine and could walk by himself, which wasn’t new information. Victor had had enough cramps in his life to not doubt Yuuri’s restored mobility for a second. 

“Sorry”, he intoned and didn’t set Yuuri down, carrying him all the way to where benches were stacked as makeshift bleachers. 

As agile as his body was, Yuuri was unsurprisingly easy for Victor to carry. He couldn’t help smirking when the younger guy huffed in annoyance and finally settled. 

Placing Yuuri down to sit on an upturned bench, Victor sat beside him and gave his calf a cursory swipe to make sure no undue tension returned. Yuuri pulled back, hands grabbing Victor’s and pulling them off of his limb. 

“It’s okay, I’ll take it from here!” He exclaimed, voice pitched higher than usual and eyes still not straying towards Victor. 

He really didn’t like that. 

“I am not trying to hurt you.” Victor reminded the Japanese boy, a little miffed by his response. He was acting like Victor’s mere touch burned him when he had done nothing but help. 

Violent red erupted across Yuuri’s nose and cheekbones, and his eyes finally rose to meet Victor’s, only to lower again with shame. 

“No!” Yuuri groaned. “I know! It’s just-” 

He gulped, and Victor waited patiently, not wanting to push him into talking when he was very clearly struggling with words.

“Listen I am not good with taking help. Hell, I’d dig my own grave if I could. I am not ungrateful, really, thank you, Victor. I am sorry, I wasn’t trying to be rude. I just can’t help wanting to deal with everything by myself.”

Carefully, slowly, giving Yuuri plenty of room to back out if he wanted to, Victor put his hand on his knee and squeezed. 

“It’s okay. That does sound like one hell of a way to live, though. Ought to be exhausting.”, he smiled, trying to help ease the thick blanket of tension he hadn’t anticipated. Yuuri didn’t shrug off his hand. 

“It’d be more exhausting to regulate and change my reactions every time.” Yuuri shrugged. Victor nodded because he knew it was. He had been doing it all his life, yet Yuuri… Yuuri was guarded, but he wasn’t fake and Victor figured that was something to respect him for. 

They remained in silence till Yuuri visibly started feeling awkward, and Victor decided it was time to distract the younger male. 

He didn’t stop to think, and went with the first statement he could think of, which was a dramatic swoon of his head and a low-pitched ‘this is it, then? I have interfered with your mission to release your own cramps and dig your own graves so I guess this is the fated end of our budding friendship.’ He sighed and tutted till Yuuri was laughing, surprise written on his face. 

Which was fair, Victor was always cool and composed, and he probably would have maintained said facade if he had given himself the space to think before he talked.

“Oh my god, stop!” The younger man urged and Victor gave him a smile. Yuuri gazed at him for a couple of seconds longer, before his expression grew somber again. 

“That was the first time I heard you cuss.” 

Victor was used to people paying attention to his every gesture. The butterflies fluttering in his stomach because Yuuri did the same were wholly unwarranted. 

“I don’t. Not out loud, at least. Inner Victor,” he tapped his chest. “Has quite the potty mouth.” 

Yuuri nodded and looked away. “Uh, aren’t you getting late for practice, Victor?” 

Victor knew how to read a dismissal and stood up gracefully. 

“Oh. I am, thanks.” 

Yuuri stood up too and gave Victor another small grin. 

“Thanks a lot, Victor. Really.” 

Victor simply smiled and waved his goodbye, and before he turned away he told Yuuri, “Anytime. And if that shovel ever gets too heavy to carry you can call me. I won’t tell anyone you asked for help, not even you.” 

…

Back home that night, Victor tapped into his meme folder and brought out his best ones before forwarding them all to Yuuri, seventeen in a row and if his heart thundered when three squiggly dots appeared at the bottom of the screen to indicate Yuuri typing, he simply ignored it.

Chapter Text

A phone pinged.

Yuuri had gone from using Instagram once every two weeks to an average of two hours every day, all because Victor fucking Nikiforov won’t stop sending him memes. After which, he felt obligated to send some back. It would be very easy if he could just ignore the messages and never open any, but Victor had a good stash. Yuuri couldn’t resist a funny meme or the random puppy videos he seemed to also hoard. He was helpless, his curiosity always made his fingers fly to click on every notification that said, ‘Victor Nikiforov sent you a message.’ and once he opened them, he couldn’t leave without sending some from his and Phichit’s shared Drive folder. 

JJ called it a miracle. Phichit was torn between feeling overjoyed that Yuuri was finally using his social media and furious that where he hadn’t been able to move a pebble, Victor had crushed the entire rock within days of knowing Yuuri so he alternated between pouting and excitedly telling Yuuri about features of Instagram they both knew the Japanese boy would never use. 

Then, Victor caught and added Yuuri on his near-dead Snapchat. Gulping, he accepted but prayed Victor won’t start Snapping him because he had no idea what he would even send back. Thankfully, it seemed the Russian wasn’t as active on Snapchat as on Instagram. 

In a sense, Yuuri supposed this abundance of online interaction and a complete lack of face-to-face communication was a blessing in disguise. After the embarrassing incident in the dance studio that evening, Yuuri wasn’t excited to meet Victor again. All this meme-sending back and forth acted as the buffer keeping him from cutting Victor out of his life. 

It was so easy for him to forget the world didn’t turn to bring him down. 

He couldn’t remember when he started harboring this intense feeling that people would consider him weak over the slightest loss of composure. Phichit had once made this great point that revolved heavily around the completely logical argument of ‘would you judge someone over something like that?’ If anxiety followed logic or reason, that’d easily defeat all of Yuuri’s self-doubts. 

Sadly enough, it didn’t. Yuuri would’ve bolted the moment he was back on his feet if Victor hadn’t caught him completely off-guard, whether with his out-of-character cussing or his adorably lame dramatics. Yuuri wasn’t expecting it from Victor, as aware as he was of how little Victor actually let his true self show. 

Like any normal human though, (or any normal human who was best friends with Phichit Chulanont and in the habit of watching a LOT of thriller dramas) he had assumed the parts Victor so obviously kept hidden to be unsavory, unflattering. He didn’t know a sense of humor so terrible it made Yuuri laugh was one of the things the Senior kept capped. 

It increased Yuuri’s curiosity but also softened the sharp edges of it.

Smiling to himself, Yuuri shook his head and tried to focus his attention back on the book open in front of him, sliding the notification away and promising himself he won’t give in and look at the latest memes Victor sent him before he was done with his portion of reading for the day.

He gave in within minutes. 

Tucking a finger between his teeth, he bit back his chuckles, not wanting to disturb others in the library and quickly forwarding the funniest two to Phichit. Just as he was about to exit the chat, another video was forwarded to him, this one of a guy doing lunges while his dog watched in curiosity before deciding he wanted to join in and attempting to do some, following his human’s lead by leaning down on his front limbs, tail and tongue waggling along. It was cute, it warmed Yuuri’s heart and he forgot to tone down his happy little gasp of adoration. 

Immediately five annoyed high-schoolers were shushing him with such pure contempt in their eyes that Yuuri shrunk down. Mouthing a quiet ‘sorry’ at as many people as he could, he turned back to his phone and typed out a quick message, the first he would send to Victor. 

‘Aren’t you supposed to be in class?’ 

The text was seen within seconds and Victor started typing. 

‘Oh so we’re allowed to use our words?’

Remembering to bite back his amused snort this time, Yuuri rolled his eyes.

Before Yuuri could respond, more texts flew in. 

‘To answer your question, yes. 

‘But it’s Chem :((‘ 

Yuuri smiled. 

‘Excuses, excuses. You send me memes all through school hours. Don’t blame Chemistry.’ 

‘Are you complaining?’ 

‘Nope.’ 

He really wasn’t.

‘What’s your favorite subject?’ 

Yuuri found himself stifling giggles again. 

‘Chemistry.’ 

A keyboard smash was Victor’s reply making his outrage clear with the sheer number of random letters thrown in there. 

‘Yeah, we can’t be friends anymore.’ 

Yuuri’s fingers stuttered. They were friends. Victor considered them to be friends. 

There were a lot of people in the school who considered Yuuri their friend, that Yuuri didn’t count in his close ones. He didn’t mind, he liked the idea of people being comfortable around him and trusting him enough but he hadn’t especially cared ever. 

Before today, that was. 

… because his teeth won’t stop worrying at his lip even as his eyes danced across the message again and again. Victor thought they were friends and Yuuri thought he’d love for that to be true. 

‘Aww :(‘ 

He grinned when he remembered how proud Phichit would be when Yuuri would tell him he actually used the emojis on his keyboard. 

‘I can make it up to you?’ He followed up. 

Glancing at the book open in front of him, he realized he wasn’t actually going to get any work done today. With a sigh that felt more obligatory than something stemming from genuine remorse, he snapped the huge tome shut, shoved it in his backpack, and got up to take his leave. 

A blonde guy who had given Yuuri a nasty glare earlier rolled his eyes and let out an exaggerated huff of relief now as he caught sight of him about to leave. Yuuri flipped him off, realized what he’d done, cursed Phichit’s influence, turned tail, and all but ran out. 

In his mad dash, he didn’t realize when he ran straight into a taller figure also headed towards the exit. His unlocked phone, with its screen still frozen over his Instagram texts with Victor, flew out of his hand at the impact and skidded away from the two of them… From him and Christophe Giacometti. 

“I am sorry, I wasn’t looking.” 

It should be illegal for anyone’s voice to be this smokey and alluring. 

Yuuri nodded in apology himself, head still reeling with the strong scent of expensive cologne wafting off the Swiss man, and watched Chris walk over and pick his phone up for him. 

His eyes met Yuuri’s phone screen for one split second before he politely looked away but it was enough for his expression to tighten considerably. 

“Thank you” Yuuri muttered as Chris handed him the phone with a smile. 

Victor had replied, ‘Now there’s a tempting offer if ever I saw one.’ 

Yuuri didn’t know why the idea of Chris reading that message made him blush but what he was painfully aware of was the fact that Victor’s reaction had been incredibly similar when they saw Chris that day. 

These two clearly had beef and Yuuri couldn’t deny he was curious. 

“It’s no big deal.” Chis waved it off with a warm grin. His eyes were such a gorgeous green Yuuri had to check to make sure he wasn’t gawping with his mouth open. When he smiled, dimples appeared in his cheeks and Yuuri could now see what everybody meant when they said Christophe Giacometti was a gorgeous son of a gun. 

“Aren’t you Yuuri? Katsuki? Gosh, I didn’t know you went here.” 

“Yeah, um, yeah I do.” Yuuri’s mind raced, trying to figure out just how Chris knew him if it wasn’t from school. 

The Senior seemed to read his mind because he sidled up closer to Yuuri, throwing an arm around his neck that immediately made him freeze up. “I saw you in the pole dancing class at Buskers. I go there too but on the weekdays. I just happened to have missed my slot that week and Gia said I could come with the Saturday batch. I don’t think you noticed me.” 

Yuuri was vaguely aware of his face having steadily ascended through every shade of red known to mankind and turned purple. Oh, he definitely didn’t notice Chris. He’d have run away if anyone he knew was in the same room as the one in which he regularly hung himself off poles and became an insulting travesty of a sensual, confident pole dancer. 

Then there was the fact that he had signed the class in as ‘alternative dance form’ in the school register which boarders had to fill out if they took any courses outside of school. Nobody except Mari (his sister and local guardian), Phichit, and JJ knew about his brief stint as a pole dancer.

Chris, in a surprising show of perceptiveness, lowered his arm from the intimate hold he had on his neck to his shoulders and said, “I was amazed by your performance and you have no idea how badly I wanted a dance-off but you were so intensely focussed and you didn’t take off your earphones once when you were off the pole so I thought you probably won’t want to be approached by a stranger.” 

Yuuri had seconds ago agreed with the mass opinion that Chris was a very charming guy. Were charming people supposed to be this mouthy? He had always assumed they’d be more broody. 

Maybe he needed to lay off Pride and Prejudice for a while. He was no longer sure whether he watched it for Kiera Knightley or Matthew Mcfayden anymore.

“Sorry about that.” He muttered, not sorry in the least. 

“No, no!” Chris actually waved his hand in front of their faces like his impassioned dismissal of Yuuri’s apology wasn’t obvious enough from his loud exclamation. “Pole dancing can be quite scary in how much you have to let yourself go. It’s not like any other dance form. If the earphones help you cope, have at them.”

They were out in the hallways now, Yuuri never even realizing when Chris led him out of the library. With another grin, Chris stepped back from him next to the stairwell.   

“Later, cherry.” 

Yuuri was convinced his brain had just melted. 

…

A frantic discussion with Phichit about whether Christophe Giacometti was that friendly with everyone, which was mostly just Phichit losing it over the Swiss’s butt and two mind-numbing hours of classes later, Yuuri stumbled on Chris again. 

The guy didn’t look half as friendly anymore, but positively harried. 

“Umm, are you okay?”, Yuuri stepped into the empty classroom, with Chris standing alone, pulling at his hair and actually groaning in frustration.  

“No!” Chris exclaimed, turning on Yuuri and continuing as if the Japanese boy’s appearance was totally a part of his personal script for life. “That fucker! That absolutely disgusting fucker!” 

Glancing once at the group of students peeking in from the hallway, Yuuri came to a decision in a second and slid the door of the classroom shut. His next class was English as it was, and he was pretty great at it already since his anxious brain had been convinced he won’t survive in the States if he couldn’t speak English better than the citizens there. 

“Which fucker?” 

“Dino! That absolute pig lost my fucking geography file and now he wants me to fucking redo it!” 

Ah, the Dreaded Geography File of Senior Year. 

It was thick and extremely detailed. Students usually took two months to complete one of the four installments it was supposed to be submitted in, all year round before it was tied up together for a final presentation, viva, and written paper that made up for about 25% of the Senior geography students’ final grade. 

Yuuri was firm with Chris on this one, asking a student to redo that entire tome was torture. 

“I’ll fucking need to start today itself if I want to bloody get this shit in within the week and I had a goddamned date with Masumi! I have been planning it for more than two weeks Yuuri!” 

“That really sucks, Chris I am sorry.” Because it did. Having to give up a date with your loving boyfriend that you’d been excited about for two weeks to redo a file your bastard of a teacher lost? That was something that genuinely sucked. 

… and then, as a courtesy that both of them knew was nothing more, he offered, “Is there something I can do to help?” 

Chris sighed. “I’d love it if someone could grab me a good mocha but the pour in the cafeteria is swill so thanks, but you’re pretty much useless, cherry.” 

Yuuri perked up. 

“No, I am not!” 

Chris gave him a curious glance and Yuuri practically beamed. With a smile highly reminiscent of JJ he said, “I keep a coffee machine and mini-fridge up in my room.” 

That coffee machine was the pride and joy of JJ, Phichit, and Yuuri and the envy of the rest of the boarding given how all of them practically survived on coffee and like Chris, the rest of the student body hated the brew served in the cafeteria. 

“Yuuri…” Chris whispered in awe. “Yuuri, you bitch, that isn’t allowed.” 

His grin merely widened. 

…

“How the hell have you not gotten caught?” Chris was still whispering as he stared inside the mini-fridge. Strangely enough, that was everyone’s reaction when they found out it was Yuuri’s idea to sneak the two appliances inside. The three roommates let the boarders believe it was a daring, badass act of rebellion on their parts when in truth they had simply bribed the warden with the promise of two freshly brewed cups every day.  

“Guess I am just lucky.”, Yuuri drawled. He wasn’t a flashy person at all, but this coffee machine was Important to him. Chris was only the fifth person to drink from it, apart from the three friends and the warden. 

“Sure you want a mocha? I make some great Sunshine.” 

Chris turned to him. “Sunshine?” 

“That’s the name JJ gave to it. Just trust me, okay?” 

Chris hummed. 

Fifteen minutes later, Yuuri was waiting in anticipation for Chris’s verdict as he delicately sipped the cold espresso and orange juice drink. He looked into Yuuri’s eyes, letting the flavor roll across his tongue before swallowing. 

“Cherry, this is amazing.” 

Yuuri’s shoulders dropped and he beamed before excitedly reaching for his own cup and taking a greedy mouthful. He really did enjoy this drink. 

He thought it was pretty fucking hypocritical of him to be guilting Victor about sending memes in school hours while here he was, cutting class to show off his coffee-making skills for a boy he had never spoken to before that day. He decided to not think about that, especially since Phichit had made him cut class often enough for him to have become kind of numb to it. His fingers, however, itched with the sudden need to text the Russian. 

“Oh my god, hand over your cup.” 

Curiously, Yuuri watched as Chris placed both cups on the windowsill and opened a camera app Yuuri couldn’t recognize, selected a filter, and quickly took multiple pictures. Yuuri looked over the taller boy’s shoulder and pointed at the image he liked best which Chris immediately posted. 

“Should I tag you? What’s your handle?”  

…

Yuuri had been back from dance class for a little over an hour and was idly scrolling through Twitter, which just so happened to be his preferred app. His handle was anonymous and his Tweets were mostly of an activist nature. As little as he liked confrontation in real life, ripping online trolls a new one was one of his favorite pastimes. 

There was a knock on the door of his dorm and he staggered out of bed, slipped, felt too lazy to get up, and crawled over to the door on his hands and knees, safe in the knowledge that it was just JJ and Phichit back from practice. 

It wasn’t. 

… that is, it was, but it wasn’t just them. Victor was with them for some reason. 

Yuuri was so baffled as he stared up at the three stunned faces that he forgot to feel embarrassed for a few seconds. 

Phichit whistled. 

“Now that’s a view.”, JJ laughed out loud. Victor gave a nervous grin and Yuuri blushed and shot to his feet. 

“Is that the sort of welcome you receive every day?” Victor nudged Phichit’s shoulder. Whatever nerves plagued him a moment ago were now gone as he smirked teasingly. Yuuri rolled his eyes and dropped down on the bed with a loud and exaggerated huff. 

“Hmm no.” Phichit placed a finger under Yuuri’s chin that was promptly shrugged off. “Only when this doll knows he’s angered his daddies.” 

“Phichit!” Yuuri’s cheeks flamed and he was torn between slapping the Thai boy and covering his face with his palms. 

Laughing, Phichit shrugged off his t-shirt before heading over to this dresser, which was essentially a cupboard each that they had to keep all their clothes stuffed in. 

“Why the hell are you here?” Yuuri mumbled and if Victor was taken aback by the bluntness of his words, he didn’t react. 

JJ slung an arm across Victor’s shoulders. 

“Victor here didn’t have anything planned for the evening and wanted to grab a coffee with us, or something but with Phichit’s date and your expertise with the beans, I thought we should just bring him back here for a cup, especially since our coffee machine is now open to random strangers.”

“I am not a random stranger!” Victor cried at the same time as Yuuri said, “You are just mad your male muse grabbed a cup with me instead of you.” 

“We are not talking about you, Victor.” JJ only responded to Victor and Yuuri smirked with satisfaction, barely resisting the urge to push his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

“Yuuri brought back a date to the room, this pig, when we explicitly said none of us would bring our dates back to the dorm.” 

“It wasn’t a date” Yuuri stated calmly and was ignored. 

“Christophe fucking Giacometti.” Phichit bounced his head in emphasis between each word. Yuuri rolled his eyes and only remembered a second later to pay attention to Victor’s expression but by then he had already regulated his reaction into a politely confused smile. 

While Yuuri had always disliked Victor’s plastic grins, after that day in the dance studio the fake curve of his mouth just sat wrong in his stomach now.

“My boy decided to invite Christophe Giacometti to the room and didn’t even give me a heads up so I could come and look at his bum.” Phichit mumbled, head still buried deep inside the clothes of his cupboard. 

“He had to redo his geo file and he desperately needed a coffee. Get over it.” The Japanese boy intoned as he got up to snatch the shirt Phichit was looking for out of his own wardrobe. The stupid boy couldn’t even remember he had sleepily asked Yuuri to iron it out last night and he had just hung it in his own closet instead of fighting with Phichit’s. 

Phichit gave him a grateful smile while JJ sprawled back on his bed. 

“Make four of your Sunrises, Yuuri” JJ ordered. If Yuuri hadn’t known JJ well enough to understand what a golden heart he had, he’d have chucked a slipper at his head for using a tone like that with him. “He makes amazing coffee.” JJ directed at Victor, who raised his eyebrows. 

Yuuri itched to latch onto his cheeks and pull on them till he let his faux mask relax.  

“Do you?” The Russian questioned politely. 

Yuuri smiled. It felt as sarcastic and fake as possible. Victor deflated and watched Yuuri turn away. 

Clattering about, pulling the ingredients out of the fridge, Yuuri clenched his jaw. He didn’t understand his own irritation but he knew it was irrational. Victor didn’t owe him shit and he had no right to take the lack of genuineness in his eyes as a personal affront when it seemed to be the same for everyone. 

He didn’t want to face the fact that as much as Victor’s openness that evening unnerved him, it also made him feel… special like he was finally allowed in on a secret. 

It pinched his heart to see Victor pretend in front of him again. 

Setting his juice box and cold espresso jug on the table, he pulled out three glasses and one mug for three Sunshines and a hot espresso for himself. When he felt Victor come up next to him, he didn’t turn around or pause. 

“So, Chris got to drink your coffee…” he started. High on irritation, Yuuri’s mouth went on autopilot. He twisted around and stared at Victor. 

“What you’re gonna try to ‘claim’ me too?” 

He clamped his jaw shut when he realized what he said a moment later. Behind them, JJ and Phichit burst out laughing. 

“Claim you?”, Victor questioned, incredulous. 

Yuuri rubbed his eye and cursed Victor for coming up here under his breath. 

“All afternoon ever since these two idiots found out I brought Chris and made him coffee they’ve been joking about claiming me back and just come up to me and rub up against me like dogs, talking about getting their scents on me.” 

“We need to let Chris know you’re ours,” JJ said, seriously, making the Japanese boy shudder and Victor laugh. 

“Ah Yuuri if you want me to rub up against you all you have to do is ask.”

“God, what’s wrong with all of you today?!” He screamed, only being offered shameless laughter in response.  

Phichit, who had managed to change into the gorgeous pale yellow shirt and blue jeans, turned to Yuuri and gave him a searching look, probably to make sure he wasn’t feeling overwhelmed or genuinely uncomfortable. When Yuuri rolled his eyes and started adjusting Phichit’s collar to make it lay down flat, he smiled. 

Grabbing JJ’s expensive ass perfume that he couldn’t ever remember the name of, he sprayed Phichit liberally with it before handing him his coffee. 

“Who’re you going out with?” Victor asked, picking up his Sunrise and handing JJ the other. 

“Seung Gil,” Phichit said, unable to bite back a soft, giddy smile that ultimately made the other three smile too. His eyes sparkled, cheeks coloring at the mere mention of the guy. 

“He was being nervous for nothing,” Yuuri told Victor. “Seung Gil said yes so quick it was obvious he had been gagging for it. And why won’t he, I mean look at this.”  

“You look so proud of him. Like you’re actually his mom.” Victor said. They exchanged a quiet smile before he drew a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. “Smoke, anyone? You can’t truly enjoy coffee without a cigarette.” 

“Yeah, no, I have to go,” Phichit said, quickly knocking back his coffee and pecking Yuuri on his cheek as thanks. “And JJ here thinks he’ll drop dead if even a whiff of tobacco touches his lungs.”

JJ rolled his eyes but before he could try to explain to his friends how horribly disgusting of a habit smoking was, Victor interrupted him. 

“Yuuri?”

Yuuri grabbed his espresso cup. 

“Sure but we’ll have to sneak up to the terrace.” 

…

Victor had to haul himself onto the terrace, and then hold open the hatch for Yuuri because the warden for some reason thought taking away a staircase and all safe means to access the terrace would somehow keep a bunch of teenagers from climbing on to it. Victor snickered when Yuuri told him the warden won’t acknowledge people climbing in through this rickety structure that opened like a coke can top because he didn’t want to admit his master plan to get students to behave had failed so spectacularly. 

“Your warden sounds like he’s doing a really lousy job of this.”, Victor chuckled as he extended a hand for Yuuri to grab. Yuuri just shushed him but was unable to help the grin on his face. 

“Rule number one of sneaking into places you aren’t supposed to be in,” Yuuri whispered, determined to not need Victor’s support. “Keep your mouth shut.” 

Victor straightened when it became obvious that Yuuri wasn’t going to take his hand and folding his arms across his chest, watching the Japanese boy struggle with an amused grin. When he spoke his voice was low. 

“I thought he didn’t acknowledge people were doing this.” 

“Oh, he doesn’t.” Yuuri was aware of Victor’s eyes on his forearms and was suddenly worried that the ripped hockey player was judging his less muscular dancer’s limbs. “That doesn’t mean he won’t follow your obnoxious voice up here and pull me down by my pant leg if he sees my butt hanging down this stupid hatch.”  

Pushing up with all his strength, he lifted himself up, and shoving a sneakered foot in the space between his hands, stood up, dusting his hands and clothes of non-existent dirt and hoping Victor won’t recognize it for the nervous action it was.  

The sky was dark around them and Yuuri thought he was stupid for his initial surprise at that. Just because it was light when he returned to the dorm didn’t mean it was going to stay that way. Next to him, Victor bent down suddenly and Yuuri startled, only to realize the man was merely retrieving their coffee cups that he had placed on the ground because he needed his hands free. 

Victor gave him a strange look upon straightening but handed him his cup wordlessly. With a jut of his jaw, Yuuri indicated to the makeshift benches they had picked up rocks, and arranged, to resemble. The two walked over, sitting on two big slabs of rock while using another to hold their drinks. 

Victor offered him the pack of cigarettes and held the lighter as Yuuri lit up, following himself seconds later. 

With the very first exhale Yuuri felt his limbs loosen and for the hundredth time, hoped Mari won’t find out about his new habit because of how long he had spent making fun of her for doing the same. 

“What are you thinking about?”, Victor asked as he sipped his Sunshine. The glowing tip of the cigarette dangling by his fingers was a gorgeous, gorgeous orange against the indigo sky. 

The wind blew around them, gentle, persuasive, just how Yuuri liked it. He suddenly wished he had made himself a milkier, creamier frappe. The rush of energy the espresso would lend him seemed like a direct affront to the silent, calming night.  

For a few moments, he watched the stars above them, trying to decide how to put ‘I hate myself for picking up smoking after I spent years clowning on my sister for burning her lungs with her own damn hands, am terrified she’ll find out and rat me out to my parents as revenge, and hence want to give up but am completely sure I won’t’ without sounding like the stupidest, most self-important and weak-willed moron to ever breathe.   

“I hated this when I was younger. I thought it’d kill my sister one day.” He held his cigarette to his lips for a second, before sucking in a harsh, impulsive drag. 

“We all learn to rely on things we know aren’t great. I guess it’s just part of growing up.” 

That sounded shitty and Yuuri was about to mention that but Victor, in what he was starting to realize was typical Victor fashion, interrupted. 

“Sometimes I wish I could have the determinedness of seven-year-old Victor. He was a handful to deal with, but he was so much… better, you know?”  

“In what sense?” 

Yuuri had a vague idea about how seven-year-old Yuuri was better than his present self too, but he suspected Victor’s reasons were somewhat different and otherwise entirely unrelated to anxiety. 

“He wasn’t so confused all the fucking time.” 

“You cussed.” Yuuri couldn’t help himself. “Ah n-no I mean, what are you confused by?” 

Victor didn’t bother to bite back his helpless little laugh. They let the subject die down. 

Victor’s eyes were incredibly blue, now that there were no other colors around to water down the shade except for the startling alabaster of his skin. Yuuri found himself fixating on them.  

His eyes trailed from the glowing cigarette tip to the web of stars in the night sky to the seas in Victor’s eyes and decided he must be incredibly fond of things that glowed in the dark. 

It was only the cool, mellow beauty of the night that allowed that thought to pass through his head unchallenged. 

“You know had anyone ever asked me I’d have bet good money on you not being a smoker.” 

Victor giggled. “That’s ridiculous and if Yuri was here, he’d slap you for that one.”

“JJ doesn’t smoke.” 

“If you haven’t noticed, JJ is a bit of a pretentious twat.” 

“So, all non-smokers are pretentious twats now? I am offended on behalf of my parents.” 

Calmly, Victor put out his cigarette and lit another. His coffee was finished. 

“No, they aren’t. I just never miss an opportunity to abuse JJ.” 

Between chuckles, Yuuri gasped out, “I get the urge, I so do. Damn, can’t even fight you on that. When we first met him, Phichit and I used to gang up on him and have all-out prank wars. That’s how we drove our fourth roommate away!” 

“What sort of pranks?” Victor perked up in curiosity and just because he could, Yuuri teasingly refused to tell him. 

Plus, he was pretty sure Phichit had videoed all of them and he’d rather Victor saw them firsthand. One day, he promised himself and watched Victor whine. 

He calmed down a minute later and gave Yuuri a pouty glare before muttering something to himself. It was ridiculously adorable and Yuuri only laughed harder. 

“Seriously though,” his tone became serious. “How did you get along with Chris? I can see your personalities clashing a lot.” 

Yuuri frowned. 

“You’re so not subtle.” 

“I am so subtle it’d make you lick your words right off of the soles of my shoes.” Victor raised a brow and Yuuri was painfully aware of how true it was. “I am just not trying to be right now.” 

“Why?” 

“You were right in the studio that day,” Victor’s fingers shook as he moved to light his third smoke, but Yuuri covered his hand, making him stutter mindlessly till Yuuri pulled away, the packet of smokes in his grasp, safely away from Victor. “It does get tiring.” 

Unprecedented and yet with a clear, steady build-up you could only recognize in hindsight, like any decent epiphany, it struck Yuuri. What they had been doing all this time, this back and forth, like giving away pieces of themselves to each other, slowly, cautiously. It was like a dance, Yuuri would share a part of himself and then Victor would follow up and it had started that day in the dance studio, continued over Instagram, and now, sitting here alone, three stubbed out cigarette buds and two empty coffee cups between them, they were still dancing, slow as always but definitely surer. 

… and it was his turn. 

The cool breeze ruffling his hair and the bewitching beauty of Victor’s eyes could do nothing to calm the storm building rapidly in his chest, fast, scary and intoxicating all at once. He stared at Victor, suddenly aware of the fact that Victor Nikiforov, the man he had spent so long carelessly dismissing for his more than misleading public facades was looking to open up and to him of all people. 

Yuuri licked his lips and gulped. 

“Yuuri…” Victor trailed off, a clear inquiry as to whether he was okay curling in his tone. 

Yuuri shook his head and smiled. Up here, in the dark and quiet, it felt like nobody was ever going to touch them again.  

“What’s your favorite color, Victor?” He blurted out, because for some reason, in his incredibly socially awkward brain, that was a perfectly apt question for the moment and needed to be asked right then. 

Victor frowned but took it in stride. 

“Purple. All purple tones.” And then, a lot more hesitantly, “I like pinkish shades too.” 

“I love blue” Yuuri replied with an ever-broadening grin. 

Chapter Text

When the doorbell rang, Victor almost sighed out loud, nerves clanging noisily in the back of his head like they were made of steel at the very idea of facing his uncle. His mother had never taken well to his ‘obnoxious’ huffing and puffing, though, so he bit it back and silently went to open the door. 

He was relieved to find it was only Nikolai.

“Grandpa.” He smiled, and almost leaned in for a hug. Nikolai had stopped hugging both Victor and Yuri when they turned ten, deeming physical depictions of affection beneath ‘men’ but neither Victor nor Yuri had truly forgotten how safe and comfortable they felt in Nikolai’s warm, bear hugs and faced with Nikolai’s familiar dark eyes Victor once again found himself wishing he was seven again.  

“You’re looking good.” Nikolai gave Victor a quick once-over and then nodded in approval, before shrugging out of his coat. 

Victor reached out to take it from him and smiled. 

“Didn’t you have a big game this month? Your mother told me about it.” 

Of course, she did. Victor was her most prized possession and Katia Plisetski was, by nature, a terrible show-off.  

“It’s not until next month” Victor replied once he finished hanging up Nikolai’s coat, following behind the old man’s surprisingly quick footsteps, given how bad his arthritis had gotten recently. 

“Would you like to come?” 

His parents always came and never stayed to chat. Victor had figured out it wasn’t him they came for, years ago. Nikolai would though, he would be there for no other reason except that he was proud of his grandsons and Victor couldn’t remember why he never asked before. 

The sparkle in his grandfather’s eyes belied the mouth that remained pursed tight and Victor kicked himself again. He really should’ve asked Nikolai to come before today. 

The man nodded and handed his phone to Victor so he could set a reminder. Victor felt a giddy smile press against his lips. 

Nikolai had barely finished hugging his daughter before the doorbell was ringing again. Deeming his parents a safe distance away and more than occupied, Victor let out a tiny curse for there was no mistaking it now. Nobody else had been invited tonight. 

Setting Nikolai’s phone aside, he went to get the door again and sure enough, two blonde men stood in his doorway, matching scowls on both of their faces. 

Igor quickly schooled his own expression once the door opened, a smirk as cocky as Yuri’s spreading gracefully across his mouth. Victor supposed with how similar Igor and Yuri looked, it was only fair that their mannerisms were the same as well. Yuri borrowed his pride from his father but while Yuri had natural talent and a spiky but huge and kind heart to show for it, Igor had money and a temper quicker than the devil’s if he felt slighted in the slightest.   

Victor hated the man. 

“My favorite nephew.” Igor enveloped Victor in a hug ignoring Victor’s hands spread out in a silent request for his coat. Behind his father, Yuri rolled his eyes and moved to hang his coat away.

“I am your only nephew, uncle.” Victor smiled when Igor stepped back. 

“A shame, that. I kept telling Dimitri having only one kid was an absolute waste of Katia, but when has your father ever listened to anyone?” 

Sweeping past Victor down the hall, Igor’s voice trailed behind him and Victor didn’t bother biting back his groan of frustration. Igor hadn’t taken off his coat, would remember it fifteen minutes later, and then send Victor away to hang it for him like he always fucking did.  

“Grandpa here?” Yuri asked from next to Victor. 

“Yeah, in the living room.” 

“Cruella in there?” 

Victor scoffed but didn’t protest Yuri’s nickname for his mother too much, considering how he didn’t much disagree with it. Her love for fur and her thinly veiled cruelty were the first things one would notice about his mother. 

“How the fuck did these apples fall so far away from the tree?” 

Victor smothered a snicker behind his fist as he followed Yuri to where everyone else was gathered.

Together, Victor and Yuri stepped into the living room, their eyes finding each other for a split second in a silent show of camaraderie before they turned to the strikingly familiar scene. Nikolai always sat in the very armchair he was presently occupying with his daughter perched on the armrest, and Yuri’s father was already by the drinks cabinet, riffling through his brother-in-law’s collection as Dimitri tried his hardest to keep himself from telling Igor to not touch his precious bottles. 

Dimitri bit back his words once again,  though and Victor clenched his teeth as he remembered how that was not a courtesy six-year-old Victor had been offered. 

“How the fuck indeed.”, he muttered. Yuri shook his head. 

“At least Grandpa’s here.” 

One of them said that to cheer the other one up nearly every single night of these dinner parties. It was usually Yuri, and he always sounded like he needed the reminder more than he felt Victor did. 

Come to think of it, the first time Victor had felt any sort of a bond begin to form with his cousin, it had been one of these dinner nights. Victor was eleven then, and still desperately trying to find love for himself in the cold eyes of his family members. He had just been to a family dinner at Chris’ the night before though and had been struck by a wonderful idea by which he could bring everyone to feel closer to each other. 

At Chris’ he and his parents cooked dinner for their entire extended family. Everybody set up the dinner table together and ate amidst laughter and conversation, as opposed to the heavy and compelling silence of Victor’s own family dinners. He had come back home and excitedly demanded Katia and Victor cook the meal at the next dinner party by themselves, already too old to kid himself into thinking his father would want anything to do with it. Katia had immediately scoffed and rejected his request, but amusedly let him set the table. 

Victor had been excited that night and beamed so wide as he carried cutlery and dishes and napkins, Nikolai’s approving eyes on him as he rushed from the kitchen to the dining hall. After dinner ended, he had been running around for some reason and tripped. Igor had laughed. 

Victor, usually a happy, cheerful kid, had nearly begun crying because he had tried so hard and set the table all by himself and yet no one had looked any happier. No one was looking at Victor like how Chris’ family looked at him. 

That was when Yuri had come scampering over, eyes huge with concern. He hadn’t yet started stacking brick after brick into sky-high walls around himself and he had innocently asked if Victor was okay. 

Victor had taught Yuri how to fold napkins into swans that night and never set another table in his life again. 

…

The strange thing was, after over a decade of knowing Yuri Plisetsky, one still couldn’t definitively say anything about him. 

“I am gay.” He blurted out over dinner out of no fucking where. 

Victor choked on a sip of wine. Everybody else seemed to have ceased to breathe.

His eyes immediately found Igor though whose face was already setting into stone. The Plisetskis however, from Nikolai to Katia to Yuri, all had incredibly expressive eyes and Victor felt a chill race through him at the look in Igor’s.

Silence stretched on across the table, as Yuri took the time to look all of them in the eye, his gaze steadfast and unflinching even when it turned to Igor. For his cousin’s sake, Victor quickly schooled his face into a supportive smile, deciding to interrogate Yuri over why he decided to risk his life today later, in private. 

“Back in my day nobody felt the need to announce things like this.” Nikolai huffed out. His face didn’t look forcefully neutral, his voice held no disapproval. He looked… exactly how he looked seconds ago. 

“I still don’t understand why you younglings need to make a huge thing out of it. You don’t owe it to anyone to explain who you love.” 

Yuri smirked; a tight, sharp thing. Sitting next to Igor, the similarities between the two were unsettling, and for no good reason. Why acknowledging the similarities between a father and his son made Victor’s stomach twist, he could never tell. 

“Wouldn’t want to give you a heart attack if you caught me sucking face with a guy out of nowhere.”, Yuri quipped.

His relationship with Nikolai had always been freer than Victor’s. Victor used to be jealous of Yuri’s friendly ease around their grandfather, till he realized it wasn’t that he was specifically barred from joking and messing around with Nikolai. It was simply that he never would, too terrified of losing the one blood relative who seemed to care. Yuri didn’t seem to have such fears and that was no reason to feel bitter towards the boy. 

At the head of the table, Nikolai returned Yuri’s amused expression. 

“I wouldn’t have had a heart attack, boy. I would simply have smacked you up the head. What business do you have sucking anyone’s face at your age? Kids these days are in a rush over everything.” 

Victor weakly remembered he was younger than Yuri when he lost his virginity and it was no trouble burying the fact miles and miles away from the conversation. 

Despite the light-hearted conversation between Nikolai and Yuri the rest of the table was pointedly and painfully silent, Igor most noticeably refusing to look at his son. Victor decided he was going to make Yuri stay the night and then nearly six thousand more.

“What about you, Victor? Anyone caught your attention, yet?” 

Victor startled at his name, completely unaware of the last few words exchanged before that, so caught up was he in scrutinizing Igor’s every expression to figure out how bad the bruises would be on Yuri the next day. 

“Uhh, no. No, there’s no one I am interested in.” he laughed awkwardly, absently remembering he hadn’t had the time to forward Yuuri a link to that clip of a panda eating bamboo that he had found recently.  

“Why? You’re at the right age to be sucking face.” Nikolai intoned. 

Down the table, Yuri protested, loudly. Before Victor could let himself be too amused Dimitri broke in. 

“When I was Victor’s age I had already found Katia and set my sights on her. How could I not, she was such a gorgeous, intelligent woman, the perfect partner for any decent, respectable man.”

Yuri did a good job at not reacting to the obvious jibe in Victor’s father’s words.  

“Even so, these things take time sometimes,” Katia began, her eyes sympathetic and trained on fucking Igor , instead of Yuri. “You know girls are so much huffier these days, and you can rarely find yourself a good one. Boys lose hope and get confused. It’s okay to take a while, figure things out. There are so many… options made acceptable these days that boys give up so quickly. You have to have patience with the right woman, with the woman that’s worth it.” 

Her poisonous gaze had inched over to Yuri and though her voice remained smooth, her jaw sat tight. Yuri faced her head-on, not letting his eyes stray for a second.

This was strangely unsurprising to Victor because with Yuri, anyone would expect him to burst out in indignant defense of himself faced with such things. However, if the fear coiling in Victor’s chest was even half as bad as what Yuri must be feeling just then, it made perfect sense for him to not tempt fate anymore. Even Nikolai won’t let misbehavior with adults slide. 

Victor thought Yuri was already immensely brave for coming out in the first place. 

“Well”, Nikolai began, his tone heavy and final, almost as if challenging his company to oppose him. “Whenever you find a nice, smart boy to fall in love with you bring him over to mine for dinner, Yurachka. Even you Victor, you get yourself a wom-… partner, and you both come over. Got that?” 

Victor almost immediately began to correct Nikolai that there was no need for ambiguous terms when it came to him because he was straight. Not that he didn’t support Yuri… he just wasn’t like him. 

They didn’t need to worry about him. 

… and then he noticed the curl of his mouth, and the disgust in his eyes, and even though his discomfort with that implication was perfectly justifiable to himself, right now Yuri needed all the support he could get. So he smiled and nodded and bit his tongue when Nikolai continued,  

“You are such handsome lads, both of you. You will find yourselves equally amazing partners in no time.” 

…

Yuri excused himself to the washroom after dinner, and Victor followed immediately after him. 

Grabbing a hold of Yuri’s arm he dragged the boy all the way up the stairs into his own bedroom.   

Victor’s heart hadn’t stopped racing all through dinner and as soon as the door shut behind them, he very nearly burst out. 

“What were you thinking?! Have you lost your fucking mind?!” 

Yuri’s face remained downturned, his fringe falling across and concealing half of it. His voice lacked all venom when he replied, nearly a minute later.  

“I thought this through very carefully, baldy. I wasn’t going to get a better chance.” 

Victor scoffed at that but when he opened his mouth he realized he didn’t have enough information to dispute Yuri’s statement.  

“How was this a good chance?”, he tried to keep his voice in check, even though his entire being roared in barely contained fury, fury at Yuri for risking himself like that. Why he ever needed to say anything Victor didn’t know. 

“Grandpa’s coming over to stay tomorrow, has some business in our area. Said he would be there for like two weeks. My bastard father has tonight, just tonight to get some of his anger out so it doesn’t build into something even more dangerous. Hopefully, he won’t kill me, considering grandpa will be there tomorrow and he knows now. He also knows the bastard doesn’t like it. After he leaves, I go over to his, and then to yours and by then Igor would have found something else to be mad at… and well, I don’t fucking know, Victor, okay?!”  

Victor blinked as Yuri’s head whipped up and there,… there were those furious green eyes, angry and refusing to back down despite the glossy film of tears covering them. Victor felt something unclench in his chest and he realized Yuri’s lack of anger was only serving to heighten his fears. 

Like he’d go down too easy; like he won’t consider this a battle worth fighting at all.   

“Grandpa will be there tomorrow, and I wasn’t going to… there won’t be a better time…”  

“Why did you have to say anything to those fuckers at all? You could’ve just told me and grandpa…”

Victor trailed off as he watched Yuri ball his fingers into fists by his sides, his shoulders squaring out as visible conviction rushed through his frame. He had never looked so sure of something before. 

“Because I fucking wanted to! I wanted to do this. It wasn’t something I was going to hide because then I felt like I was agreeing with them that it was… that me being… that I should hide my truth away like a dirty secret. It isn’t dirty anything and you don’t get to hold this decision against me Victor, you are not going to be mad at me. ”  

Victor ran a hand over his face and sighed, almost missing Yuri’s furious kicks and angry little jabs whenever they argued. This distance between them served all too well as a reminder of how huge this was… how unreal… how unacceptable…  

How scary. 

He was scared.

He was so scared. 

“I am not mad at you… I just… I wish you’d have told me before.” Victor babbled nonsense, pretty sure the words that could adequately sum up all the hot emotions lashing against his heart would all be too big, too clunky, too giving to ever be voiced, or understood. 

He didn’t understand his own emotions. 

“Like even before, I just never thought… you never looked like…”

Victor watched a bitter scowl twist Yuri’s face.

“Guess I forgot my rainbow eyeliner.” 

“I didn’t- what… Yuri!” 

His own bedroom door slammed in his face was all the answer he received. 

…

Unable to bite back the mounting frustration in his chest, and utterly unwilling to face Yuri again, given the fact that he didn’t really understand what he’d said to warrant a storming out, Victor grabbed his smokes and went off to the lawns through the backdoor. 

He was met with Nikolai, who raised a brow at the stick clutched in his fingers, before tossing a lighter at him.  

Victor caught it on instinct and then he noticed Nikolai was smoking. His grandfather only smoked when he was stressed out.  

He lit up in silence, watching the smoke curl away into the cloudless night as they stood side by side. It was a good few minutes before Nikolai spoke again.  

“Yurachka is a fucking idiot.”  

“It was his decision and we don’t get to hold it against him, or be mad at him” Victor repeated, without much conviction. His body felt heavy suddenly, and he figured conveying Yuri’s thoughts about that particular sentiment was the least he could do to make up for whatever monumental way in which he had managed to fuck up with the boy again.

 Nikolai, however, simply huffed in amusement and turned his knowing eyes onto Victor.  

“Were you mad at him?”  

Victor felt his irritation grow. 

“No! Yes! I don’t know!” 

“It’s one thing acknowledging what he did was stupid, another feeling angry at him about it. Is he the one we should be angry at for him not being safe inside this house?”  

Victor shook his head. 

“That’s not what I meant.”  

Nikolai shrugged and turned away.  

“Might be so, but your anger proves that you’re placing blame on the wrong person here. And that is all he can see right now.” 

 Victor sighed, unable to deny the validity of Nikolai’s words, even as his brows pulled together in pouty indignation.  

“Get your shit together, Vitya,” Nikolai said, a hand landing on Victor’s shoulder in a kind pat. “We need to be there for him. This isn’t about either of us.”  

Why Victor’s heart won’t understand that and stop thundering was as fascinating a mystery as any. 

Absent-mindedly, he fished out his phone from his back pocket and had already unlocked it before his purpose found him. Quickly bringing up Phichit’s Instagram account, he held up a solo shot of Yuuri for Nikolai to see. 

“This is the guy he may have a thing for. He is older to him, a year under me. At school. Honestly, I would think motorcycles and leather jackets would be more Yuri’s type.”  

Nikolai hummed, eyes roaming Yuuri’s smiling profile with interest. 

“He looks handsome. I’ll give Yurachka that.” 

For the first time in what seemed like hours, Victor felt his mouth curling a little. 

 “That he is. He is also a very talented dancer, and he’s smart. He’s the top of his class constantly and he’s so kind, grandpa. Very strong too. And ridiculously proud, guy got such a bad cramp that day and didn’t feel comfortable accepting help. It was kinda stupid. He also makes amazing coffee and he’s a talented dancer, did I tell you? I will show you videos, wait.”  

Nikolai waited. Victor failed to notice the calculating gaze he settled onto Victor’s face.  

…

It was hours late into the night when Victor found the chance to send Yuuri the panda video. Yuuri immediately liked the message.  

…

It wasn’t until Monday that Victor saw or heard from Yuri. His messages and calls had been ignored over the weekend and Victor would have been worried if Yuri wasn’t constantly posting random cat videos on his Instagram stories. Knowing Yuri, that was his coping mechanism, ignoring any and all interaction with actual humans and burying himself in feline cuteness, which he then felt compelled to show off to the rest of his friends as well.  

Knowing Nikolai was at Yuri's, Victor had let himself breathe and started sending Yuri pictures of cats back.  

When Victor saw Yuri in the hallway on Monday before classes, the blonde guy was actually having a halfway civil conversation with Yuuri and Phichit. He didn’t particularly look any worse for wear, there was no visible bruising and Victor let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.  

“Guys, what’s up?” He stuck his hands in his pockets and tried to appear nonchalant as he walked up to the tight huddle. To his credit, he managed to keep his eyes from immediately assaulting Yuri and hence putting the younger boy on edge. He let his gaze roam over Phichit and Yuuri instead, both of who smiled at him, not noticing anything odd with either Victor or Yuri.  

It wasn’t until lunch break that Victor dragged Yuri into an empty classroom and they actually got a chance to talk. 

“Are you okay?” Victor questioned, the tension in Yuri’s shoulders, making a lump form in his throat as he recalled the way they had parted that night. All of a sudden, he had convinced himself Yuri hadn’t been ignoring him because he was trying to cope with something, but because he simply didn’t want to talk to Victor. 

… to make matters worse, Victor still couldn’t tell what he had done wrong! 

“I don’t need an asshole like you to worry about me!” Yuri seethed and Victor gritted his teeth, unable to understand how he was supposed to have even a loosely constructive conversation with someone as childish and petty as Yuri.  

The realization made him pause though, and his breath stuttered in his throat. 

Yuri was a child.  

He was fifteen and going through something nerve-wracking with zero familial support on his side. As far as Victor knew he didn’t even have any real friends. The poisonous anger in Yuri’s eyes tumbled into a softer shade of green, a little less goading, a lot more pitiful. Yuri needed help, he needed support, he didn’t need whatever it was Victor was doing here. 

Victor still couldn’t tell what he had said to upset Yuri so terribly but it wasn’t the time to get stuck on ‘you said this, so I said that.’ Victor needed to be there for Yuri because no one else was going to.  

So, Victor threw his arms around him and didn’t let him go despite his furious squirming and steadily worsening language.  

“I am sorry I was such an asshole the other night.” 

He didn’t truly know what he was apologizing for, because despite his new resolution to support Yuri however he could, he still couldn’t tell what he had done wrong. He figured apologizing was as good a start as any, though and from there he could move on carefully avoiding any sore topics till he could tell what was the right thing to say at any given point and what wasn’t.  

“I don’t know why I was expecting anything else from you.”  

The statement stole a gasp from Victor because only when the layer of hurt thickened in Yuri’s tone did Victor realize it was there in the first place. Yuri wasn’t just angry, he was genuinely hurt and Victor loathed himself at that moment. 

Yuri’s shoulders remained tense under Victor’s touch but he stopped protesting Victor’s embrace so he felt it was safe to move forward. 

“Yura, I can be stupid sometimes, you know it.” (Yuri scoffed at that.) “But I promise I didn’t mean to hurt you and I will do better. I will be a better person for you.” 

He had known Yuri since the kid was born and he knew the gruff shrug he received was the best he was going to get. He finally allowed Yuri to step out of his arms. 

His eyes were still laced with apprehension, and Victor knew a simple promise to be better wasn’t going to cut it this time, till he truly acted on it.  

“We’ll see about that,” Yuri muttered. 

…

Before practice that day Victor found himself googling ‘how to talk properly with a homosexual person’ which wasn’t helpful in the least. The articles google spat back at him ran around in circles, pointing out obvious  shit that Victor knew he didn’t do.  

Don’t be homophobic? Check. 

Don’t try to ‘reclaim’ the f-word for them? Check. 

 (Victor honestly couldn’t tell who’d even do something like that.) 

Don’t out them without their permission? Check. 

Don’t act like you are afraid of them perving on you? Check.  

Don’t try to act gay? Check.  

(Why would a straight person act gay anyway? It just looked weird.) 

Frustrated, Victor clicked on to the second page of the search results which was even less helpful because most of them were rants about ‘PC police’ or how everyone is offended by everything these days and while Victor didn’t understand a lot, he understood that wasn’t it. Any article with the words ‘pansies’ and ‘real men’ was trash, he quickly learned.  

With a tired groan, he exited his browser and tossed his phone into his open sports bag, which sat right beside him on the bench.  

By then, other kids had started filing into the locker room and Victor quickly wiped his face of its harried expression, joining JJ and Phichit with a smile when the two walked in. 

…

That night Yuuri was the one to initiate their meme exchange. 

It was only when Victor caught sight of the notification on his phone screen that he realized he had been radio silent on Instagram for the entire day and that had to be looking weird. 

Quickly diving into his folder of baby pictures, Victor pulled up one of him and Yuri when Yuri was six, uploading it with a simple black heart emoticon because he knew Yuri didn’t like sappy captions. That done, he moved onto his chat box with Yuuri. 

They had been texting a bit more ever since that night on the rooftop, texting with actual words. It always left Victor with a smile, and like he couldn’t wait to see the other boy and talk to him in real life again. 

Real-life interactions, however, had been a bit more limited.  

While Yuuri definitely seemed more open to conversation now than he had previously been, they just couldn’t seem to find the time to properly see each other in school, and Victor still couldn’t decide if asking Yuuri to grab a bite with him would look too weird.  

He didn’t think it should but what if it did? Victor didn’t want to seem clingy. 

‘Hey’ he typed in quickly. ‘how was your day?’  

‘Fine. Ms. Okukawa wants me to sign up for this dance competition falling right on Phichit’s birthday. I am still trying to figure out how to get out of that one.’ Yuuri replied. 

‘Does Phichit know?’ 

‘Are you kidding?  

‘He would start throwing a fit before I even get to the part where I asked Ms. Okukawa to not list me for that one.’  

Victor grinned and flipped onto his stomach, stretching his legs out till they hung off the bed from the knee onwards. 

‘That does sound like him.’ 

‘How was your day?’ Came the reply. 

 For a second Victor considered telling Yuuri the truth. Phichit was his best friend and very flamboyantly gay. If Yuuri had managed to deal with him without saying anything to hurt him, then he must have some pointers for Victor, he figured. 

When he went to type in the message, though his fingers froze because what would he even say? Teach me how to be decent around the gays? 

That was such a strange text to be send to someone, and even the thought of Yuuri thinking of him as a braindead, homophobic asshole had Victor dry swallowing in nervousness. 

‘It was a bit tiring. How about yours?’ 

‘I just told you how mine went.’  

Victor smacked his forehead. Well, no choice but to flip the topic. Quickly scanning the last few days for a subject to engage Yuuri in a conversation about, he landed on the party Mila was going to host that weekend. 

‘Are boarders allowed to go out for parties?’   He asked, never mind what an obvious attempt at distraction that was. 

‘We usually have a downtime and most parties start after it so, technically, no.  

‘Is this about Mila’s? Isabella hasn’t managed to stop talking about it.’

‘Yeah, well, I don’t blame Bella. Mila knows how to entertain. Will you guys be there?’ 

‘JJ is definitely going, Phichit might as well. I don’t know about me.’ And a second later. ‘I am not a party person.’  

Well, that was… disappointing. More so than it had any right to be, really. 

Victor was almost surprised at how quickly his smile had dropped, given seeing Yuuri at the party wasn’t even a thing on his mind till seconds ago.

‘Well, that sucks. I’d have liked to see you there.’ 

A string of laughing emoticons was what he received in response. Victor wondered if he should mind.  

‘I am sure there will be a lot of people to keep you company there.’ 

Victor sighed because Yuuri was silly and that wasn’t the point.  

‘That’s true. It would still be better with you around anyway. 

‘Plus, I think it's time I saw some of those Salsa moves in real life.’  

‘Oh my God, Victor.’ 

Victor couldn’t stop the huff of laughter falling out of him, all the worries that had plagued him through the day already miles away.

Chapter Text

The more time Yuuri spent with Victor, the clearer it became- Victor’s big secret was probably that he was an absolute dork. 

His jokes swung violently between mean and corny, and it never failed to make Yuuri laugh. He had read more books than Yuuri could possibly name. He didn’t have a preferred brand of cigarette but he adored charcoal milkshakes and absolutely refused to get one from anywhere but his usual place because apparently, nobody else could make them right. 

Yuuri was quickly, steadily, growing fond of Victor, already beginning to count him as one of his close friends.  

Hanging out with Victor, talking to Victor, all of it was way more fun than he had originally expected and JJ was delighted by the new developments because that meant he could now add Victor to their super-exclusive WhatsApp group chat named Snitch, bitch that previously only had him, Yuuri, Phichit, and Isabella. JJ was ridiculously obsessed with that chat for some reason. 

Phichit also seemed glad Yuuri had made an actual friend who wasn’t a roommate or a lover of a roommate. 

Victor, however, was the one who constantly seemed to be over the moon about their new friendship. He would excitedly show Yuuri random things he found interesting on the internet, tell him thrilling facts that he also seemed to have an endless capacity to hoard because apparently, he was a full encyclopedia, and rant to Yuuri over text about annoying teachers or teammates. It almost seemed like he couldn’t get enough of Yuuri, which made no real sense because most things Yuuri contributed to their conversations seemed boring in comparison to the whirlwind that was Victor Nikiforov. 

A couple of weeks into their friendship, Yuuri was the one to hunt down Victor’s Twitter and follow him, because as it was, he couldn’t get enough of Victor either. He wanted to know everything, store away every little thing about the man because none of it was knowledge carelessly given away, every bit more precious than the one before. 

One Saturday, Yuuri and the Roommates decided they needed to check out the new Indian place downtown for lunch. It was going to be just the three of them but then JJ invited Isabella and Seung-Gil mentioned to Phichit that he’d been wanting to try that place as well and… Yuuri called Victor. 

“Friends don’t let friends be third wheels, you know.” - was the first thing he said when Victor picked up. 

“Mhmmm.” Victor sounded amused. 

This was another thing Yuuri liked about Victor. He never seemed thrown off by Yuuri’s randomness, always going along with it with a slightly disbelieving and largely amused smirk on his face. It was nice of him, Yuuri thought. 

“So you shouldn’t let me be the third wheel. Or a fifth wheel.” 

“Let me guess? You made plans with JJ and Phichit but they want to bring Isabella and Seung-Gil as well?” 

“Such bastards. Can you believe it?” 

There was no bitterness in Yuuri’s tone. He loved Isabella, and he had to Officially meet Seung-Gil at some point. It would be best done with a group of people he felt comfortable around. 

“Absolutely not, the audacity. So you want me to come along and help you not feel awkward when they inevitably start smooching?” 

“Basically.” 

“On it.” 

…

The restaurant was nice enough, and Yuuri had been enjoying himself till the waitress approached them. 

At the head of their table, JJ had boisterously ordered a Pork Vindaloo despite everyone telling him it would be too spicy for him. Isabella had just sneakily signaled their waitress to tell the chef to reduce the amount of spice he’d normally put in. 

The waitress was now standing between Yuuri’s and Victor’s seats and Yuuri, who hadn’t decided what he wanted yet, was stuck in a spiral of ‘oh my god, I am never going to recover from how embarrassing not knowing what you wanna order when your server asks what you want actually is’ 

He looked to Phichit as Victor listed what he wanted but his best friend was busy giggling at whatever Seung-Gil was muttering, which was doubly annoying because Yuuri couldn’t imagine a single scenario in which Seung-Gil could be funny. 

“And you, sir?” The waitress smiled at Yuuri. 

Yuuri stared at her, mind suddenly unable to come up with a single Indian dish to blurt out the name of. 

“He hasn’t decided yet. Could you come back in a minute?” Victor smiled and the waitress nodded, not seeming affronted or mocking in the least as she rounded the table to go to the Traitor and Unfunny Man, next. 

“Thanks” Yuuri muttered and immediately started scouring his menu. 

He only looked up when Phichit’s cheerful voice listing his order was interrupted by Seung-Gil’s cold ‘no’. 

Yuuri looked up to where Seung-Gil sat with his eyes on the menu card, posture now suddenly looking more dismissive than stoic. 

“You should get this Idli thing.” He said to Phichit. “You don’t want all the calories Chole Bhatura has.” 

The waitress raised a brow. Yuuri gaped. Next to him, Victor looked confused. 

“I-…” Phichit hesitated, expression looking confused, but then he quickly plastered a smile onto his face and turned to the waitress, probably deciding to smooth over the situation quickly. “That’s right. One Idli-Sambhar for me, please.” 

“We’ll take a Chole Bhatura, as well.”, Victor piped up, softly bumping Yuuri’s shoulder.  Yuuri nodded and sent Phichit a smile.

When their food arrived it seemed like Victor had ordered a little too much for himself, and that his portions alone could feed the entire table. Yuuri didn’t even mind that he didn’t get to order for himself because courtesy Victor he had three delicious-smelling dishes that Victor insisted he tried, minus the Chole Bhatura.  

“You could say I have a natural talent for picking out the best food by name alone” Victor muttered with his mouth full at one point, and Yuuri chuckled, unable to challenge that statement because this bun-type dish called Dabeli sitting in front of him was, in fact, delicious. 

“Mmmmm, Phichit, this Chole Bhatura is amazing,” Yuuri said. “You should try a little.” And then he slid the entire plate across the table and towards Phichit, who grinned and tucked in, eating his way through nearly one of the two Bhaturas before handing it back to Yuuri. 

Seung-Gil didn’t say anything, eyes on his own Dosa. 

Lunch was fun, overall, despite Seung-Gil’s weird behavior. The Pork Vindaloo did turn out to be too spicy for JJ, but he was determined to eat through all of it, anyway so they decided to order dessert quickly, going for something called Doodh-Jalebi that Isabella insisted she had tried before and loved. 

It wasn’t much to Yuuri’s liking but he enjoyed it either way. 

“I want ice cream after this.” Victor declared. 

While JJ and Phichit cheered in excitement, Seung-Gil abruptly stood up, his dessert still untouched. 

“I’ve somewhere to be, now. Thanks for inviting me.” He gave Phichit a sideways glance. “You can stay, of course.” Then, he pulled out his wallet, laid what would turn out to be his exact total onto the table, and left. 

Everyone stared after him, and then unanimously turned to Phichit, who was looking at the exit of the restaurant with a disappointed expression on his face. Slowly, he stood up. 

“I better go see what that was about.” 

“Peach-…” Yuuri began but Phichit waved him off. 

“Cover for me. I’ll pay you back.” He said before leaving. 

“Are those two fighting?” Isabella asked. 

“That looked less like fighting and more like one-sided passive aggression.” Victor muttered. 

Moods thoroughly ruined, they didn’t go for ice cream. Isabella suggested they go visit their local animal shelter because she knew that was a surefire way to cheer all of them up, and they headed over there instead. 

In the passenger seat of Victor’s car, Yuuri felt worry overtake him. He pulled out his phone and texted Phichit, asking him if he was okay and sighed heavily. 

He didn’t know who had done what to piss Seung-Gil off, or what that entire thing with not letting Phichit order what he wanted was about. His best friend's mind was rushing through a thousand scenarios in which Seung-Gil was the devil incarnate and Yuuri needed to help his best friend out of the Korean demon’s clutches, but he knew he was being too hasty in judging the guy. Everybody had off days, and what Seung-Gil had said to Phichit was just a suggestion after all, and maybe he did have somewhere to be… truth was, he didn’t know anything about Seung-Gil and that was putting Yuuri on edge. 

… because what he did know was how much Phichit cared about Seung-Gil.

“Hey,” Victor called out to him at some point in the drive from the restaurant to the shelter. His voice was soft. “They’ll be fine. Phichit will be fine. Every couple, hell, every pair of people related to each other in any sense, go through difficulties sometimes. It’ll blow over, you’ll see. Trust me.” 

“Did we piss Seung-Gil off or something? Because I really can’t tell where we messed up.” 

Victor snorted. 

“I am the worst person to ask, Yuuri. I seem to have a habit of fucking up and not being able to tell what I did wrong.” 

Yuuri sighed. 

Victor didn’t say anything for a few minutes, worrying his lower lip with his teeth instead, eyes contemplative. Yuuri didn’t ask him what he was thinking about, instead choosing to wait patiently for Victor to mention what was on his mind, if anything was. 

Eventually, Victor started talking. 

“So I’ve been meaning to ask you for a while. Did you have any difficulties talking to or like, behaving right around Phichit after you just found out he was gay? Not, not in the way this sounds, ugh, like, how did you make sure you never accidentally offended or hurt him?”     

Yuuri blinked. 

“Just don’t be a jerk, ummm, it’s hard to accidentally be homophobic when you’re not, you know, in real life.” 

The moment the words were out of his mouth, Yuuri knew this was some of the shittiest advice he’d ever given. He paused, and thought about why all of this came easily to him, before taking a deep breath and deciding if he was going to say anything, he better make it worth it. Even if it was going to be slightly embarrassing to himself. 

After all, this was still a dance. 

“See, I know it’s not as easy as it sounds. I come from a very, very small town and you know me, I don’t talk to a lot of people. There were some girls in my ballet class when I was little, who were very jealous of how good I was so they took to bullying me. Telling me ballet wasn’t something real boys did and that I must be like those men, instead.

“I didn’t know what they were talking about, what ‘those men’ meant but I let their words get to me. I decided I was going to quit. My sister was having none of it, though. She knew I’d rather cut off a limb than willingly quit ballet. So she sat me down and actually grilled me till I fessed up.” A tiny little smile surfaced out of nowhere and Yuuri didn’t try to stop it. 

“Then, she talked to me. About gender stereotypes, and how they didn’t mean shit. About how boys could do whatever they wanted and girls could do whatever they wanted because interests are rarely gendered. About how being born with certain genitalia wouldn’t determine my gender anyway, so ‘girl things’ and ‘boy things’ were just made-up nonsense. About who ‘those men’ were and I shouldn’t take being called one as an insult.

“My point is, if we hadn’t had that talk, I would have come to the States completely ignorant and probably more than a little bigoted. I guess what I am trying to say is, we only act right when we realize what is right, Victor. I can’t give you hard and fast pointers on how not to mess up because thanks to my sister, I haven’t grown up with any space for homophobia inside of me. I know that’s no great achievement of my own. I was taught to do the right thing, so I did, and I don’t really know how to help you, I am sorry.”

By the time Yuuri was finished speaking, Victor had pulled over, all his attention focussed on Yuuri’s words instead. His face was set in a contemplative frown and he seemed overwhelmed. Suddenly, Yuuri was worried he had overdone it. 

“I.. don’t think I am homophobic. I mean, my parents are horrible and I instinctively knew everything they believed in was wrong, and they are. They are very homophobic. All of my family is. Someone came out recently, and I think I have really messed up with him, and I can’t figure out what I’ve said wrong. My grandfather thinks it's cause I was angry at him-…”

Yuuri felt his eyes widen. 

“Wait, you were angry at him when he came out?” 

“No!” Victor cringed. “It sounds awful when you put it like that! I wasn’t angry at him! I was angry because I was scared for him! He risked his safety when he came out. His dad is a monster. I was just worried and he, I think he gets that Yuuri because he wasn’t mad about that. He stormed out when I told him I wished he had given me a warning, a heads up, just let me prepare myself better. I really hadn’t imagined…” 

Yuuri felt fairly sure he knew who Victor was talking about, (given the multiple and incredibly long anti-homophobe rants Yuri had taken to post on all his social media) but decided not to mention it unless Victor did. As for where Victor had messed up, it was glaringly apparent, and Yuuri wondered how Victor couldn’t see it. 

“Did you imply you were shocked by him not being straight?” 

Victor paused, the anguish on his face suspended for a second. 

“Well, I was.” 

“Was that because you weren’t expecting him to be gay, Victor?” 

“Not expecting something when it happens is generally the lead-up to shock, yes.” 

Yuuri raised a brow. 

“Why were you not expecting it?” 

“Because he didn’t seem gay!” 

Yuuri gave Victor a helpless smile that he couldn’t bite back in time. Victor stared at him, unable to understand what had happened to put that expression on Yuuri’s face. 

“What?”, he asked, tone sharpened by his confusion. 

“Whatever image you have in your mind of a non-hetero person, is not always true. You were stereotyping him. He was probably hurt by that.”

“Stereotypes only exist because they’re true in some capacity” Victor muttered, but the words seemed more a reflex than something he believed. His eyes left Yuuri’s as his mouth fell into a small pout, the gears in his mind visibly turning inside his skull. 

He looked adorable. 

“Oh, because all Russians are stonecold bitches with no empathy. All feminists are misandrists. All old white men are racist. All African Americans are criminals. All blonde girls are stupid. All Indian guys are creepy perverts. All-…” 

“Yeah, okay! I got it, you can stop!”  

Yuuri shook his head.  

“No, you haven’t and that’s okay. It’s supposed to take time, Victor but at least now you know one of the things you need to avoid.” 

Victor shook his head, scrunching his eyes shut, fist tight around the steering wheel that he had grasped at some point, and Yuuri felt pity well up in his chest. Victor looked so cut up that he couldn’t help himself and he reached out, grabbing ahold of Victor’s shoulder and pulling him forward into the most awkwardly distanced hug Yuuri had ever experienced. 

“Oh, okay” Victor muttered, confusedly, but he loosely draped an arm around Yuuri’s shoulders anyway. 

Yuuri, on his end, had planned to say something encouraging and motivational, something to soothe the reality check Victor really hadn’t signed up for but was now busy subtly feeling Victor’s firm biceps and shoulders with awed admiration. He couldn’t help but imagine how girls felt wrapped up snug in Victor’s arms. They were barely hugging and he could already tell it must feel great. 

“Um…” Victor trailed off, awkwardly and Yuuri shook himself out of it. He tightened his grip around Victor’s neck anyway and nearly cheered when Victor reciprocated by pulling him in closer. 

The problem was, all stupid, inspirational words had flown out of his mind some six seconds ago. 

“Is this meant to be a show of support?” 

“Uh… yeah?” 

Victor chuckled and buried his face in Yuuri’s shoulder. 

…

The shelter turned out to be a great idea, Yuuri noted and then wondered why he was surprised. Animals cheered everyone up almost instantly. 

“We should get Phichit a pet!” JJ had suggested at some point and Yuuri simply rolled his eyes, but it was really hard to wipe the grin on his face when he was being showered in wet kisses by three of the cutest Labrador pups he’d ever met.  

“Phichit lives in a hostel. With us.” 

“Oh yeah,” JJ said as if he had actually forgotten that for a second. 

“Get him something small, something easy to hide,” Victor suggested from where he sat amidst a huge pile of puppies and kittens and Yuuri felt vicious, hot jealousy course through him at the sight. 

“Like a hamster.” 

Fifteen minutes later JJ could be found pouting and loudly complaining about how he really didn’t deserve that bad of a stink eye for asking if they had hamsters in the shelter. 

“It’s fine, we’ll buy one from a legit pet store on our way back, okay? With a cage and everything, cheer up!” Isabella patted his back. 

“Well I need to step into the office for a second” Victor said and Yuuri found himself frowning because he knew for a fact Victor was a dog person… and he was presently carrying a fluffy Siberian cat to the office. 

So, he followed, naturally. 

“Hey, you adopting?” He asked when he caught up with Victor, his hand immediately flying to stroke the cat’s little head, despite the frown on his face. 

Victor laughed. 

“A cat? No. I’d be convinced she hated me and then hang myself within two days. I am a dog person.” 

Yuuri smirked because, of course, he knew that. 

“I am adopting her as a present to Yuri, you know with everything that has happened. I figured he deserved a solid apology and he’s always wanted a cat.” 

The grin on Victor’s face was one of the sweetest things Yuuri had ever seen. 

“That’s really nice.” 

Victor nodded. 

“I just want him to know how proud I am of him, even though I was worried.” He said a second later. “He’s brave. He’s so, so brave. Reckless, but brave. A Gryffindor through and through.” 

Yuuri chuckled. 

“A what, now?” 

Victor rolled his eyes, a soft blush on his cheeks. His voice rose in indignation and he frowned at Yuuri. 

“Yeah, we’re both Harry Potter nerds! Big deal!” And then he paused. “… wait, Yuri was so into Sirius Black! How did I not see this before?!” 

Yuuri laughed. 

“Tough luck. JJ’s Tumblr writing stint has me convinced Sirius was obsessed with Remus.” 

“Yeah, but, why would Sirius be gay?” 

“The trick,” Yuuri smirked. “My dear friend, is to ask yourself why won’t xyz be gay till the answer you come up with is ‘yeah, why the hell not?’” 

Victor shook his head but a few hours later that very night Yuuri received a Snap from Victor that was an image of the cat in a very cute wicker basket, wearing a black collar with yellow lettering spelling out ‘crazy but cute’ on the side. Attached to the basket was a note that very clearly read:

‘To dearest Yuri, 

Here’s a little coming-out present for the bravest Gryffindor I have ever known. Now Yuuri introduced something to me so I had to look it up, so that’s whom you have to blame for me edging towards Team Wolfstar, but for the record, I was originally rooting for Yuri Plisetsky x Sirius Black.’ 

 Yuuri laughed. 

He was so giddy, in fact, that when Victor asked, he even said yes to going to Mila’s party the next day. 

…

Yuuri had been right about how great it felt to be wrapped up in Victor’s strong, muscled arms… especially with the way Victor was crowding him against the edge of the table.

What Yuuri hadn’t anticipated was exactly how good it felt to be kissed by Victor. 

Heaving up on his palms, Yuuri lifted himself onto the tabletop. Their mouths parted for all of one second and Victor groaned in frustration, threading his fingers through the back of Yuuri’s hair and crashing their mouths together again. Yuuri moaned, spread his legs, and scooted forwards till he could wrap them around Victor’s hips. 

Victor’s half-hard cock rubbed against Yuuri’s from over their clothes and Yuuri bucked forwards against him. Victor’s hand immediately dropped down to the small of his back, holding him still while thrusting his own hips forward. Yuuri’s head fell back in a sharp gasp of pleasure. 

“Victor,” he moaned. 

Victor trailed kisses up the side of his neck, his grip bruising, now holding Yuuri’s body steady as he drove into him. Their faces were red and all Yuuri could taste or smell was the alcohol they had been drinking before. His mind was swirling, his eyes ringing with the terrible but catchy pop music Mila had playing downstairs, and he found he couldn’t really think beyond the intense knot building in the pit of his stomach. 

He was kissing Victor Nikiforov. He couldn’t remember why, but just then, it felt like the best damn thing he could ever do in this entire world.  

He was so glad he came to this party. 

Chapter Text

Yuri loved the cat, which became apparent when he didn’t bother to complain about it. It never failed to amuse Victor, how a complete lack of complaints was the biggest indicator of Yuri’s gratitude anyone would get. When he was leaving Yuri’s place that night, however, he was stopped and given a hug by the blonde boy and Victor couldn’t stop grinning all the way home.  

He was in a good enough mood to not let his mother’s judgemental scowl dampen his spirits when he got back home. She had made her disapproval of animals in the house very clear and despite all of Victor’s attempts to explain the cat was only going to be in there for like fifteen minutes till he fixed her basket and attached a note, the mere presence of (newly christened) Potya was seen as a personal affront to her. 

Victor had already decided he didn’t care though. 

“I had dinner at Uncle’s with Yuri and Grandpa.” He informed her and didn’t bother to wait for a reply, skipping his way up the stairs and into his bedroom. Once the door was shut behind him, he let out a sigh of relief. 

Today had been quite something. 

In retrospect, it seemed obvious, much as Victor still couldn’t wrap his head around it. Nobody liked being stereotyped and while that was a fact, Victor still didn’t get why it was that big of a deal. He hadn’t exactly said anything factually incorrect. 

What he did know, however, was that even beyond the realms of microaggressions and internalized bigotry, he didn’t get to dictate somebody’s feelings for them. Yuri had felt hurt by something he said, which he shouldn’t have, so he needed to apologize and do better. It didn’t need to be any more complicated than that. 

So, he apologized and only felt better for it. Yuri looked so… happy, or as happy as a child like Yuri could look, when he read the note. 

… and it’s not like the note had been a lie. Furthermore, Victor had grudgingly come to accept that some of the artists making that ‘WolfStar’ art were amazing at their jobs and Victor may or may not be hooked. 

(He had also sworn to himself he was going to hunt down JJ’s fanfiction Tumblr, simply for shits and giggles at the cocky Canadian’s expense, but that was besides the point.)  

He threw himself onto his bed and pulled out his phone. He didn’t have any new messages so he started checking his social media. As was to be expected, one Yuri Plisetsky had posted multiple story updates devoted to one Potya Plisetsky and Victor forwarded all of them to Yuuri. 

He was happy and he was going to do better. 

After having thoroughly combed his main account, Victor switched to his finsta that he had once shared with Chris. They used to follow people they didn’t like or want on their main accounts but still needed to keep tabs on from that ID. 

If anything was going to bring Victor down today it would of course be the memory of Chris. 

Guilt had started festering in Victor’s stomach the day he drove Chris out of his life, much as he refused to acknowledge it but in light of today’s events, it hit him harder than ever. 

He had fucked up, back then. 

As time went on, his stupidity became more and more obvious to Victor but he couldn’t bring himself to truly face it because doing that would mean admitting everything Chris had had to say about him was right. 

… and that was humiliating. 

It meant facing the hurt pouring down Chris’ face in a steady stream of tears that day hadn’t in fact clouded his judgement when he had told Victor: 

“You don’t support me, you don’t support us. You’re just looking to spite your parents. You’re a mean, piece of shit who is using the lives and identities of people like me to prove to himself that he is better than his parents and that is one of the most pathetic things you could ever do.”

Victor shook his head, whatever he had opened his finsta to check, already forgotten. His hand fell back, phone bouncing lightly on the mattress before coming to a stop. He licked his lips and sat up. 

No, that wasn’t right. 

Chris wasn’t right. 

Yes, he had behaved poorly. He had been caught off guard! Of course, he wasn’t his best self! Couple that with the fact that he rarely knew what he felt or what he needed to be feeling at any given point, and really, smacking Victor in the face with shocks like that without any prior notice was a recipe for disaster! 

It wasn’t his fault. He wasn’t any of what Chris had said he was, and who was he kidding, really? Chris probably didn’t mean any of that himself. He had been angry, Victor told himself. 

Victor wasn’t a secretly homophobic jerk who didn’t care about his friends and he was absolutely nothing like his parents. He was a good human being and a good friend, as well. 

He was going to prove it. 

Resolute, Victor pulled up Chris’ Instagram handle. It was public, and Victor used his finsta to stalk him sometimes, just to check up on his old friend. It wasn’t anything creepy, of course. 

It was actually through his finsta that he saw the picture Chris posted in which he tagged Yuuri, the one with the coffee cups. Victor still couldn’t tell why looking at that picture had immediately made him want to go find Yuuri. It had been surprisingly easy, tricking JJ and Phichit into inviting Victor to have Yuuri’s coffee as well. In the back of Victor’s mind, he counted that as a win even if he was still unsure what he had won. 

Presently, he opened Chris’ chatbox and quickly typed in a short text:

‘Hey, meet up tomorrow? I wanna talk.’ 

… 

Victor wasn’t so much counting on Chris accepting his invitation. Grudgingly, he admitted to himself, he only sent that text to absolve himself of some of the blame. He had reached out, and he wanted to be turned down, ignored, something to help him feel a little less like the asshole he had been feeling like ever since his talk with Yuuri. 

However, Chris accepted. It was a Saturday as well, and despite it being the day of Mila’s party, Victor figured he still didn’t have a good excuse to postpone a plan he, himself proposed. 

Plus, if they sorted things out, maybe they could appear at the party together. That’d be quite the surprise and Victor did love surprising everyone. 

So, he sat in the little cafe he and Chris once used to frequent. He had been feeling anxious enough that he got there a little earlier than the time they had both agreed on. Sitting there with nothing to do, he called Yuuri. 

“Morning,” a groggy and half-annoyed voice answered from the other end. 

Victor chuckled. 

“It is like eleven in the morning. Were you seriously still asleep?” 

“Oh, fuck off,” Yuuri grumbled and Victor laughed harder. 

“What did you want?” Yuuri asked a second later, and Victor’s smile dropped. 

What did he want? 

Why had he called? There was no reason. He had time to kill and somewhere along the way, talking to Yuuri had become his favorite pastime. 

He floundered for a good enough response to give. He couldn’t very well say he called just like that. That sounded weird, didn’t it? 

“I was just worried about Phichit.” He lied and then cringed. Phichit had been nowhere near his thoughts all day, and he felt like a shitty friend. 

“Oh,” Some of the animosity disappeared from Yuuri’s tone, only serving to make Victor feel worse. He bit back a curse. 

“He said it was nothing. I am very worried.” 

Victor frowned. 

“But he said it was nothing.” He repeated, like a fool. 

He could almost imagine Yuuri rolling his eyes when he heard the exasperated huff that followed that statement. 

“Nothing is ever nothing with Phichit. He’s a very talkative person, and he always has something to say about everything, Victor. He never brushes me off like he did last night and I don’t know how to get him to talk. It’s usually me who needs a little push to open up. Phichit has always been easy to talk to, and now all of a sudden he is hiding things from me. Something is wrong.” 

Victor listened to Yuuri’s little monologue, brows furrowed. He knew he didn’t know Phichit as well as Yuuri did, but he couldn’t help but feel Yuuri was overthinking this just a little. 

Every couple had off days. Maybe it really was nothing, after all. 

“Sometimes though we need to give people the benefit of the doubt, don’t you think?” He nudged, gently. 

“Well, duh! What else do you think I am doing? They haven’t reported the murder of a Seung-Gil Lee on the news yet, have they?” 

Despite himself, Victor chuckled. 

“Okay, now that is a definite overreaction. Yuuri, you have to understand that even though you and Phichit are best friends, he and Seung-Gil are in a relationship now and there’s going to be a lot of things that happen between them which, frankly, are none of your business. It’s natural for Phichit to not discuss everything about his relationship with you because this isn’t just about him anymore. There’s a whole other person involved, and privacy is very much still a thing.” 

“Uh huh I get that.” Yuuri intoned. 

“You don’t mean that.” 

“I don’t wanna talk about this, Victor, especially not first thing in the morning.” 

Victor hummed. 

“Alright, have you decided what you will be wearing tonight?” 

“Whatever in hell makes you think you can share a room with Phichit Chulanont and retain outfit-picking privileges, especially when according to him, you dress like a 55 years old, golf-addicted, middle-class dude going through a divorce?” 

“Now I really wanna know what you wore to leave that impression.” 

“See, I don’t agree with Phichit’s assessment so normally I’d have no problem showing you but something makes me feel you’re going to back him up, so I’d rather not.” 

Victor shrugged. 

“I mean, I do think his fashion sense is everything it needs to be so maybe I will, you know. Well, I’ll just ask him. I am sure he has a picture or two.” 

Yuuri snorted and Victor gripped his phone tighter. Something about that sound made his stomach fold into nervous knots and he really wanted to hear it again.

“Have fun trying. In Phichit’s own words, I am his pet project and he will never let my dark past resurface.” 

“Yuuri!…” Victor heard himself whine. 

That was when Victor spotted Chris, running a hand through his hair as he entered the cafe. Gulping, Victor held his hand up to wave him over. 

“Yuuri I will have to call you back, okay?” 

Victor’s heart picked up speed as green eyes found him. He saw Chris’ jaw tighten and knew despite Chris agreeing to see him, this wasn’t going to be easy in the least. 

“Victor” Chris nodded as he reached the booth. Victor felt an insane urge to stand up. 

“Hi,” he said instead, hands neatly folded atop each other on the table. 

“Let’s order,” Chris said as he began to remove his scarf and coat. Victor flagged the waiter down. 

“A blue-berry iced mocha for me and uh, Chris… do you still want the eggs and cappuccino.”

Chris nodded and Victor felt foolish hope bloom in his chest. He still knew some things about his friend at least. He had gotten something right. 

Once the waiter went away, Chris turned to face him fully. 

“What did you need to talk about?” 

Surprisingly enough, when the question came, Victor found himself prepared. 

“I am sorry I was such an ass to you. You deserved better, you deserved a best friend who’d be in your corner as you went through something life-changing and I fell short. I let my… biases get in the way of our friendship and I needed to say I am sorry.” 

Chris stared, blinked, and continued staring. 

On his end, Victor held Chris’ gaze, barely flinching. 

“Umm I was expecting this,” Chris admitted. “But somehow it has still caught me off-guard.” 

Victor raised his brows. 

“You were expecting this?” 

Chris sighed, tearing his eyes away. For the first time, since he had walked in, the stony impassiveness receded from his features and he frowned. 

“I was wrong, too. You aren’t a bad person, not at all and I knew you were going to realize your mistake sooner or later. I am sorry I called you those awful things, Victor. I felt hurt and I wanted to hurt back.” 

Victor had waited a long time to hear Chris admit he wasn’t as bad as Chris had made him out to be, and yet he felt no relief. 

If anything, he felt shittier. 

He hadn’t meant to apologize, had he? He hadn’t even truly wanted to come here. 

In some ways, Victor couldn’t help but face it now, he was just as shitty as Chris had said he was. He was selfish and he used people to make himself feel good because his parents had spent their entire lives making sure he felt absolutely horrible about himself. 

When tears rose to his eyes, Victor didn’t try to blink them away. Chris needed to see his guilt, know he was sorry. Victor owed it to him. 

He reached out for Chris’ hand. 

“I really missed you.” 

The grip of Chris’ hand was just the same as Victor remembered it. His hand was still bigger than Victor’s and that little fact only made his heart feel fuller, his tears come faster. 

“I missed you too, Victor.” 

…

Victor was fifteen and his best friend had just told him he was gay. 

He hadn’t said anything. He had gotten up and left because he didn’t know how to cope with it. 

By the time Victor had gotten home, he was already cursing himself. He shouldn’t have left Chris there alone, that wasn’t the sort of person he was. But he was also infuriated because who even was Chris? Had he ever even truly known him? How could he have hidden something this huge from Victor? Victor had thought he was normal, and he treated him so. It was unfair to Victor for Chris to be so deceptive about something so important. 

Everything had changed. 

All of the hugs Chris had given Victor felt dirty all of a sudden, filled with intent Victor had failed to pick up on. The sleepovers they had had… in the same bed, no less. Victor had thought nothing of it then. It was just friends hanging out. He had even changed in front of Chris. 

And now it turns out it wasn’t just that after all. 

Victor felt disgusted. Chris had no fucking right. 

By the time Chris dared to call Victor, Victor was still cursing himself. Not because he had left Chris alone this time, but because he had allowed himself to be tricked like that. He had fallen into the clutches of a nasty pervert. 

When Victor picked up the phone, he told Chris the same. 

… and then Chris started telling him what he actually thought about Victor. 

… and then Victor cried. 

… and then he lost his best friend. 

…

It was a quiet falling-out. Most people who had known Victor and Chris back then had noticed when they suddenly stopped hanging out together, but no one had an idea as to what actually happened. Chris didn’t come out immediately so nobody put two and two together. When he did though, Victor realized he was the first person Chris confessed to, the only person Chris felt comfortable enough around to share that part of himself. That was when Victor started feeling shitty.

He didn’t actually start seeing what was wrong with his reaction till he noticed no other guy friend of Chris’ had abandoned him like that. As it seemed to be… nothing had changed. Not in Chris’ life. 

Victor, however, was now all alone. 

…

Showing up to Mila’s house together did create the ripple Victor had been anticipating. The grin on Chris’ face told him he felt the same. 

Some things truly never changed. 

The person who looked the most surprised, however, was Yuuri, which was thrilling because Victor enjoyed surprising Yuuri most of all. 

“You two made up.” He said when Victor and Chris approached him at the kitchen counter-top turned bar, where he stood talking to JJ and Isabella. 

“Wait, they were fighting?” JJ frowned. 

“You knew?” Chris asked. 

This time, Yuuri rolled his eyes. 

“Of course,” he said. “Anyone who knows Victor knew.” 

Victor didn’t know why that statement seeped right into his skin and settled into his core, warm and comforting in its weight. 

Yuuri knew him. 

He smiled. 

“Wait, I didn’t know!” JJ protested. Yuuri simply chuckled. 

“My point still stands.” 

That is when Victor noticed what Yuuri was wearing. 

He felt his mouth fly open. 

He… hadn’t truly realized how good Yuuri’s legs looked but his tight leather pants were leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination and the picture they presented was damn near perfect. Furthermore, the deep blue of Yuuri’s shirt suited him very well. A couple of buttons had teasingly been left undone and his hair was slicked back. Victor feared for the hearts of all the women around them who caught sight of Yuuri tonight.  

… minus the lesbians of course. 

… oh, and plus the gay men. 

… or any gender non-conforming people who were into men. 

See? He was inclusive. 

“You look great.” He told Yuuri. 

“Doesn’t he?” A happy and very clearly intoxicated voice screamed out from a distance to be heard over the music. 

Victor whirled around to catch sight of a, for some reason, shirtless Phichit. 

“Why are you not clothed?” Chris smirked. Victor didn’t miss the way his eyes roamed all over Phichit though, taking their time to appreciate all of him. Victor smirked. This was interesting. 

Then, he remembered Phichit was taken and visibly deflated. He knew how picky Chris could be. He had tried to set him up with so many girls and he always turned them down. 

Right there and then, Victor gained firsthand experience of a meme-worthy lightbulb moment. 

“My skin clothes me.” Phichit, who had walked over to their little group said, eyes serious. 

“That makes absolutely no sense.” Yuuri blinked. 

Phichit leaned forward to press his face close to Yuuri’s and then, he screamed, 

“MY SKIN CLOTHES ME!” 

Yuuri struggled to push him away and JJ said something that made Yuuri scream louder than Phichit had but Victor wasn’t paying attention. 

… because after however many years, he was listening to his best friend’s laughter. 

…

“Okay, so you promised me a Salsa performance,” Victor said to Yuuri at some point. 

“I never did and even if I had, I am too sober to start dancing in front of everyone.” Victor watched Yuuri’s eyes grow comically large with panic and couldn’t control his laughter. A dancer on a dance team had no business looking this panicked at the thought of dancing!

“See, now that is something I know how to fix.” And so Victor embarked on his quest to get Yuuri drunk. 

What he hadn’t accounted for, however, was Yuuri’s legendary self-control because the boy didn’t take a second drink, no matter how hard Victor tried. 

Just when Victor was starting to consider bribing the two cheerleaders in the other corner of the room to start… well, cheering ‘chug, chug!’ the perfect solution to his problem arrived in the form of a very drunk Yuri Plistesky challenging someone Victor couldn’t actually see into a drinking game. 

Grabbing a hold of Yuuri’s hand, Victor dragged him over before the boy had a chance to protest. He nearly bumped into a clearly drunk person dancing about two rooms away from the designated dance floor and he glared at Yuuri when he dared to giggle. 

“We’d like to play whatever it is you’re playing!” 

Yuri narrowed his eyes and then smirked, his eyes traveling up and down Victor’s body in the most exaggeratedly mocking way, ever. 

“Are you sure you can handle it?” 

Now, Victor was mostly counting on Yuuri’s competitiveness to rise up to the ridiculous challenge he knew his cousin was going to throw down, but instead, it was himself who was being challenged and mocked like a loser. 

He glared at Yuri and then turned to glare at the other person he had just challenged, for good measure. It turned out to be Mila which, honestly, he should have foreseen. Nobody irritated Yuri to pieces like she did. 

“We’re in.” He said. Mila shrugged, Yuri grinned and Victor turned to Yuuri with a smirk on his face. 

“Nothing stands between me and your dance performance now.” 

He watched Yuuri’s own eyes narrow, his mouth falling into a careless grin like he didn’t even care enough to tease Victor properly. He took a step closer to Victor so that he had to crane his neck up to look into Victor’s eyes, and despite that Victor was the one with his breath caught in his chest. 

“Simpleton. I just won’t lose.”

And then, he didn't. 

Of course, of course, Yuri would do everything he could to be of absolutely no help because as it turned out, the game he wanted to play was something called ‘Red Hand’. 

As it also turned out, Yuuri had a ridiculously high pain threshold as well as an unshakeable poker face. 

Victor and Yuri were the ones wincing or crying out the most, and they were the ones being driven to intoxication with shot after shot after shot being thrust into their hands. Yuuri only had to do four and only seemed tipsy, really. 

Soon, Victor was drunk enough that he exclaimed he couldn’t go on anymore and flopped back onto the couch. While Yuuri was still smirking. 

He tried to glare but he was informed he was pouting quite adorably. 

“I can’t believe you guys,” Sara said when she came over to them, drink in hand. “We’re at a party! This is not the sort of game you play at a party!” 

Yuri, with a hand redder than a tomato, tears in his eyes, and sheer willpower holding them back, looked all too fussy for someone who was losing so miserably at the game they suggested. 

Victor laughed because that was funny. Yuuri turned to give him a fond, little smile so of course, logic ordained that Victor needed to put his head on Yuuri’s shoulder. 

Yuri looked even less pleased by that than by Sara’s interruption of their deathly game. 

“Oh? What do you suggest we play?” Mila quirked a brow. “Truth and dare?” 

She probably meant it as mockery but Sara saw no shame in admitting that was exactly what she wanted and within seconds, she had somehow managed to gather a small group of people to crowd around the sofa set they were sitting on. Chris dropped down next to Victor. Phichit was (annoyingly) stuck to Yuuri’s side. JJ and Isabella were saying something bad enough that Mila had to bodily restrain Yuri and Sara had just spun the bottle. 

Oh! Victor realized. They were playing spin the bottle. 

It stopped on JJ, the other end pointing at Phichit. 

“Truth!” JJ grinned, and Yuri immediately started boo-ing him. Victor joined him because it sounded like a fun sound to make and then he began enjoying it so much that Chris had to slap a hand to his mouth to get him to be quiet. 

“Okay, what was the first thought in your head when you saw Isabella?” Phichit asked. 

Had Victor been sober, he’d have felt compelled to coo at the way JJ’s eyes softened. 

“I couldn’t believe I was looking at someone hotter than me. That was literally impossible before her.” 

It sounded obnoxious enough, but in JJ-land, that had to count as some sort of a marriage proposal. Isabella, who was fluent in the national language of JJ-land, seemed to understand that, for she gave her boyfriend a deep and filthy long kiss. 

Yuri started gagging. Victor thought that seemed like a fun sound too but before he could try it out for himself, the bottle was spun again, and apparently drunk Victor’s attention span was shorter than a goldfish’s. 

The next person it landed on was Chris. 

The person supposed to ask the question was Yuri. 

“Dare” but absolutely no one was surprised at that, of course. 

“You won’t take off a single item of clothing tonight, at all.”   

Chris looked outraged, and interestingly enough, Victor noted, so did Phichit. 

The next round was spun and it landed on Mila, who chose dare again. 

“Recite that poem you wrote about Sara’s butt last year!” Yuuri said and that earned him a wave of laughter. Mila flipped him off and then began reciting a poem that was subsequently recorded and spread all over Snapchat. 

“Roses are red,

Foxes are clever.

I like your butt,

Wanna touch it forever.” 

When the laughter got too much she exclaimed nonsense like “I was drunk!” Or “I am going to get you good, Yuuri!” Nobody paid her any attention. 

The next person to go was Phichit, who chose truth again. 

The person supposed to ask the question was Victor, and he, being a good friend, a great gay-supporting best friend, actually, asked Phichit; 

“On a scale from 10 to 10, how much would you like to date Gris Chiacommetti?” 

It took him till the end of the game to realize he had said the name wrong but the point was that since the scale was 10 to 10, Phichit had to say 10, and Victor grinned proudly at Chris. 

“See how I played this?” He asked, expecting to be thanked. 

Chris just laughed, and that was terribly rude. 

The bottle landed on Yuuri next and the person who was supposed to ask him was Mila. 

“Dare” he raised a brow defyingly and Mila grinned. 

“Kiss the person next to you.” 

A ripple of jeering laughter ran through the group. Next to Victor, Yuuri drew perfectly still. The joke seemed to be that Yuuri was sandwiched between Phichit and Victor, and Mila hadn’t simply dared him to kiss someone like a fifth-grader, she was making him choose. The choices were: not single but gay best friend or single but straight… other friend.  

The good thing was, Victor wasn’t sober so he didn’t throw a fit at the mere suggestion like he might have if he were. 

The bad thing was, drunk Victor noticed how cute Yuuri’s mouth looked and didn’t stop to think about sober Victor before he kissed it. 

When he pulled away, Yuuri’s mouth was still open in shock. 

“That isn’t fair!” Mila declared. “Victor made the choice for him, it doesn’t count! Yuuri didn’t even move his mouth!” 

Victor was just turning to tell Mila off because a kiss was a kiss was a kiss was a… except he felt fingers close around the collar of his shirt and he was pulled back in.

… oh

Now, this was a kiss. 

By the time it ended, Victor had forgotten how to breathe or look away from the adorably blushing boy beside him. 

Victor had started to lean in again when someone began making gagging noises, and he pulled away. That really did sound funny. 

The game moved on, without Victor it seemed… because he just couldn’t take his eyes off of Yuuri. Kissing was fun, and that sounded like a revelation, for some reason. 

Kissing was always fun. Everyone knew that. 

Except it wasn’t but now it was, but the moment that thought occurred to Victor it vanished. 

Instead, Victor tugged on Yuuri’s arm to draw his attention to himself. He was still blushing, which was very cute. 

“I think you should do the Salsa now.” Victor nodded. 

Yuuri laughed. 

“Alright then.” He said and Victor stared. Maybe Yuuri wasn’t all that sober, either, after all. Had he secretly lost Red Hand and they never found out? And he had drunk all the alcohol so now they were playing Spin the Bottle because it didn’t need alcohol. 

“I am Sherlock,” Victor said. 

“Okay.” 

It took Yuuri a minute to compose himself and stand up. He offered Victor his hand which Victor gladly took, and despite the complaints of their friends that they were leaving mid-game, they walked away from the sofas and headed out through the hallway into the game room that was supposed to be the dance floor. 

Except Victor saw that the door to Mila’s parents' bedroom was ajar. 

Except Victor had an amazing idea. 

He dragged Yuuri inside, and the boy followed after a token demand to be told why Victor had just locked them inside the master bedroom. 

They stared at each other, the dim light from the single, lit lamp casting a soft glow across half of their bodies. Despite the party raging just outside, the room seemed quiet to Victor, like every outside force had unanimously refused to distract Victor from how gorgeous Yuuri looked, flushed and adorably confused. 

“Victor?” He asked, tilting his head a little. Come morning, Victor would like to imagine a part of him was telling him to stop, that this wasn’t right. 

That would be a lie. 

At that moment, all of Victor knew without a doubt that reaching for Yuuri was what he was always meant to do. 

Yuuri must have read the shift in his body language, because the next moment, his arms were around Victor, and his mouth pressed to the side of Victor’s neck. Victor groaned and grabbed Yuuri’s hips before his hands grew a mind of their own and trailed over to his butt. Yuuri canted backward into Victor’s touch and Victor pulled away...

... only to kiss Yuuri again. 

Chapter Text

Yuuri woke up alone in a strange bedroom, with a pounding in his head and his throat feeling like the Sahara. 

It didn’t take him too long to realize he didn’t remember a lot about how he got there, either. 

He groaned and tried to sit up, the contacts still in his eyes from last night burning with a wicked vengeance. Yuuri cursed and tried to feel around in his jeans pockets for his specs case, which he always carried on himself. 

Finding the smooth plastic box, Yuuri nearly cried with relief, before finally daring to open his eyes fully and remove the lenses. He tossed them in the case, knowing they would need to be discarded now, and placed his glasses on his nose. 

Even with the hurtful contacts out, his eyes still teared up with pain. He needed to find a sink to wash them and get back to the dorms as soon as possible for his eye drops. 

Slowly, Yuuri rose to his feet, arms spread out on both sides because his head felt heavy enough for him to believe toppling right over was a very real possibility right now. He hissed at the throbbing in his skull, ran a hand over his face, and then started sifting in his pockets for his mobile phone, eyes scanning the bedroom for an exit meanwhile. 

He saw the cherry-wood door soon enough, but not before he felt his eyes widen in admiration at the room he was in. 

It was clearly the master bedroom, and it had been done up in warm shades of reds, browns, and golden. Sunlight filtered in through the drawn, but thin, beige curtains, making the room look like it belonged to some elfish royalty from a fantasy book. His eyes landed on a gilded photo frame of an elderly (albeit fashionable) black couple posing with the Taj Mahal in the background. Yuuri wondered if they were Mila’s parents. He definitely had never met them or any of her family members before. 

Fast on the heels of that thought followed the realization that he really shouldn’t be in this room. 

Quickly, he booked it out of that room, only to run headfirst into someone passing right outside the door.

Yuuri let out a shamefully high-pitched squeal and fell back on his butt into the room, the impact having pushed the half-closed door open again. 

“I am sorry-…” 

“Jesus! I told Mila this room was off-limits, god! Why the fuck were you in there?” 

Despite the vitriol in the words, the voice of the speaker remained calm and measured. A hand was thrust forward, and instinctively, Yuuri shied away. The girl, for Yuuri could now see he had bumped into a tall girl with the most kickass pink cornrows he had ever seen, merely shrugged. 

“Sorry. I don’t really remember going in myself. I must have been trashed.” Yuuri stood up and brushed himself off of dirt the room was too pretty to be accused of accumulating.  

The girl hummed.

“Clearly. Your eyes are redder than her hair. Do you need to wash them? Or an ice pack or something?” 

Yuuri shook his head. 

“I just left my contacts in all night. I mean, I am hungover but that’s not what’s behind the redness.” 

There was silence for a few seconds before she turned around. 

“Come with me. You can use my eye drops. It’s dangerous to leave that alone.” 

Yuuri’s eyes were burning too much for him to even consider denying he needed help. With a sigh, he followed the girl as she headed upstairs. 

“Umm, where’s Mila?”, he questioned. 

“In her room. She was up hungover as fuck trying to clean the house when I got back this morning and I put her to bed. That kid is too independent. Still doesn’t understand the biggest perk of having a family is someone always who has your back when you’re down.”   

The sentence drew a smile from Yuuri, his mind jumping back months in time to the last few days he spent with his parents, and then to his sister, only a few miles away from him. He had taken incredibly long to learn to rely on his own family, too, even though he had always known they would be there for him no matter what. 

Unprecedented, his thoughts raced to Victor, then, and Victor’s family. From what little he knew, he doubted Victor had the same steadfast support system as he or Mila did. 

“Who are you?” The girl asked, as they turned on the landing and went up another flight of stairs. “I don’t think I’ve ever met you before.” 

“I am Yuuri. I just recently began hanging out with Mila. We’re not very close, we just have common friends.” And then, after a beat, “Who are you? I am guessing you’re Mila’s sister.” 

“Right-o. Name’s Ester. I am the same age as Mila.” 

“Oh. You don’t go to our school, though.” Yuuri muttered, as he pulled out his phone and brought up his group chat with Phichit and JJ. 

‘I am at Mila’s. Be back when I get my eyes to stop burning.’ 

before moving to his text thread with Mari. 

‘Need a ride. You free?’ 

and then he went to Victor’s. 

‘Hi. Alive?’ 

“Yeah, no, I finished school a year ago. Needless to say, it's cause I am smarter than you.” 

Ester threw him a cocky little smirk from over her shoulder as she opened the door to what Yuuri supposed was her room. Yuuri almost rolled his eyes but remembered just in time that they were hurting like a bitch and exaggerated movements won’t help his case. 

“I hope you’re not basing my intellect on this morning’s display. I don’t make a habit of passing out dead drunk in schoolmates’ parents’ bedrooms with my contacts left in like a fool, you know.” 

Ester scoffed and directed Yuuri to her large, queen-sized bed. Her room was white, with silver highlights on furniture and stuff and it had a bunch of plants. The entirely too soft vibe seemed to be at direct odds with Ester’s no-nonsense personality, pink hair, and punk getup.  

She reached for the top drawer in her bedside table, all the while muttering:

“Passing out dead drunk in schoolmates’ parents’ bedrooms with contacts left in after a wild night of going at it like rabbits in the same schoolmate’s parents’ bedroom, you mean.” 

Yuuri frowned. 

Ester straightened, taking a step closer to him with a small bottle of eye-drop liquid clutched in her hand. 

With a brow raised, she surveyed Yuuri’s neck. 

“I have to say, though, whoever you were boning last night must have been trying their best to eat you up. You’re going to need a whole bottle of concealer to hide those on Monday.” 

Instinctively, Yuuri’s hand flew to his neck. The disbelieving expression in his eyes made Ester clamp her mouth shut. 

A couple of awkwardly silent seconds later, she held out the eye-drop bottle to a stunned Yuuri. 

“You don’t remember fucking anyone either, do you?” When Yuuri still didn’t respond, she winced in sympathy, awkwardly patting his head like Yuuri remembered Mari used to. 

“I am just gonna give you a minute. The washroom is straight through that door. Fresh face towels are in the first drawer of my cabinet. I will be downstairs, changing the parents’ bedsheets, if you need me.” 

The moment Ester was out of the room, Yuuri was scrambling into the washroom. With disbelieving eyes, he took in his throat and collarbones. 

There were more hickeys on there than Yuuri could count and a few imprints of teeth as well. Ester was right, his partner must have been trying to gobble him whole. 

Eyes stinging with tears of pain, Yuuri let out a flurry of curses. Waking up in a room after a party with no memory of how you got there was one thing, but to think he had been drunkenly making out (at least) with someone was a big fucking deal. To him, it was. 

… and if Yuuri was honest with himself the marks dotting his neck seemed too furious to imagine they had stopped at just that. 

Quickly, Yuuri stripped his clothes off, surveying his body for more marks but contrary to his suspicions, the marks stopped around the top of his chest. There were more on the back of his neck and shoulders, but they didn’t go all that lower either. He didn’t feel sore anywhere, and his underwear wasn’t soiled.

It didn’t seem like he had sex, which was good but not nearly as good as the scenario where all of this was a dream and the worst that had happened at the party was Victor finally convinced him to do the salsa. 

Memory jolted, somewhat and hoping Victor had some idea who Yuuri had been making out with, he reached for his phone in the pocket of his discarded jeans. 

He was about to call Victor when he noticed he had locked the phone without exiting his text thread with Victor and the screen showed that his text had been read. 

No reply had come, though. 

Frowning, Yuuri went back to his group chat with his roommates. Phichit’s only sign of acknowledging his text was a thumbs-up emoticon while JJ had been sending paragraphs about some fight he had managed to get in as early, Yuuri confirmed from the top of his screen, 11:30 in the morning. Not bothering to read JJ’s nonsense, Yuuri typed: 

‘Do you knwo who I was makin out with last night?’ 

As expected, that message roused Phichit from whatever hungover stupor he must have been suffering from, for his replies started pinging in seconds later. 

‘!!!!!!’

‘Damn girl go get it’ 

‘idk though’ 

‘you already know I would have recorded if I knew that was happening’ 

‘HOW DID IT HAPPEN THO?????’ 

‘Katsuki the whore- out breaking hearts again. Doesn’t even remember who’s he shattered this time.’ 

‘New low, sir. New low. I respect.’ 

‘My news is that I somehow got Chris to autograph my butt.’ 

‘His signature is on my butt.’ 

‘And now I can’t take a shower.’ 

Phichit was helpful in only so much that he startled a laugh out of Yuuri, but just then it seemed to be what he was more desperately in need of than answers. There was tension steadily building in Yuuri’s chest, and he realized as nice as Ester had been, he needed to get out of this house. 

He moved over to check Mari’s response to his message. 

‘Ofc. Address?’ 

With a sigh of relief, Yuuri sent Mari his location and then got to redressing himself. Once done, he sat back at Ester’s table, and put the eye drops in, and closed his eyes. 

All he could do now was wait for Mari to arrive and hope with all his might that he won’t have to face Ester before that. Through the confusion of the morning, Yuuri hadn’t failed to notice that she was very pretty, as well as confident and helpful. Clearly smart, too. She was exactly his type and now that the rush of the morning was wearing off, the embarrassment was setting in. 

This is definitely not how he would have liked to meet a girl like her for the first time. 

With burning cheeks, Yuuri tried to distract himself from everything. Her study desk had made it clear that she was in med school and there was no real reason a university-going girl of her looks and wit would look twice at someone like him, anyway so what even was the point? All he needed to do was get out of the house, pester Mari to buy him the overpriced coffee he would never buy for himself, regroup with his idiots at the dorm and launch a nationwide search for the vampire he had caught the interest of last night. 

He at least hoped whoever she was, she would be nice enough to not make fun of Yuuri for whatever undoubtedly embarrassing shit he must’ve pulled last night. 

Then, he got to wondering if he himself was a biter when drunk. Did her neck look just as bad as his own? That only caused his blush to deepen. 

His phone began ringing nearly fifteen minutes later, and Yuuri lifted it to his ears without opening his eyes. 

“Hello.” He croaked out. 

“Hey, bro. I am outside.”

The familiar voice of his sister was immediately welcome. Yuuri heaved a huge sigh of relief.  

“Be right there.” 

He kept the call on as he opened his eyes. Ester’s eye drops were more effective than his. The burn had very nearly disappeared. Blinking to clear his vision, Yuuri snapped a picture of the label on the bottle to buy it for himself later. 

He moved through the house in search of Ester and began appreciating how big the house was for the first time since he came in here last night. The couple he had seen in the picture in the master bedroom reappeared in photo frames throughout the house, surrounded by a number of teenagers and kids. Yuuri wondered if all of Mila’s siblings were adopted, or if they were just a huge foster family but quickly shook the intrusive thoughts from his mind. 

He found Ester in the kitchen, dragging a black trash bag around with her as she scooped discarded beer cups and paper plates off the floor and dumped them inside. A tall, brown-haired man that Yuuri had seen in some of the photo frames stood to the side, scrubbing the kitchen counter free of spots Yuuri couldn’t make out from his position. 

“Umm…” he began and two pairs of dark brown and grey eyes lifted to find him immediately. Yuuri stuttered, because it was honestly starting to seem like Mila’s entire family was made up of ridiculously good-looking people.

“Yuuri, this is Jace. My oldest brother. Had to call him to come help me out with this shit. Parents will be home by evening.” Ester explained. 

Jace grinned at Yuuri. 

“We were going to order sandwiches. Will you stay for a bite? Mila will be downstairs by the time they arrive.” 

“No, actually I just came to say goodbye and thank you.” Yuuri nodded at Ester. “My sister is outside and I need to get back to the dorms before people notice I am gone.” 

“Some other time, then.” Jace grinned with the false disappointment of someone being polite but not actually keen on your company. Ester, however, and it warmed Yuuri’s heart to see, seemed genuinely disappointed. 

They said their goodbyes and Yuuri jogged out of the house, taking a deep breath of the fresh air outside with cartoonish eagerness. He could see Mari rolling her eyes as she watched from inside her car. 

“It’s not like you to spend the night at a stranger’s house,” Mari said as Yuuri buckled the seat belt in. Yuuri felt his cheeks grow hot with shame. 

“It wasn’t a stranger. It was a friend and I wasn’t there alone. It was a full party.” 

Except Mila was practically a stranger and this party was one he had only come to because Victor kept pestering him about it. 

Only to leave him all alone there, and then refuse to answer his messages. 

Yuuri hoped Victor was deathly hungover and completely out of his senses; otherwise, he was gonna be pissed. 

“And did you have fun?” 

Yuuri shrugged. From what little he could remember, it hadn’t been too bad. 

“Were you safe?” 

Yuuri groaned and pinned Mari with a glare that only made her smirk. 

“I didn’t sleep with anyone and I don’t even remember who gave me these.” He pointed to his neck as if anyone could miss the angry red marks. 

Mari whistled. 

“Don’t mention it again.” He warned and Mari nodded. 

A couple of minutes of silent driving later, she asked. 

“Do you need me to stop by a make-up store to buy some concealer?” 

With pouting lips and blushing cheeks, Yuuri nodded. 

Mari only laughed, the bitch. 

…

Some Advil, two fancy coffees that Mari with her hotshot-management-firm-job did not begrudge Yuuri at all, and a trip to an overpriced cosmetics store with a giggly server later, Yuuri finally returned to the wasteland that was his dorm room after a night of heavy drinking. As was expected, both Phichit and JJ were in bed (despite the fact that the latter had somehow been awake enough to start drama with a junior just an hour ago). The room looked like a storm had passed through it and the groans rumbling in Phichit’s chest almost made Yuuri feel sorry for him. 

Almost. 

They had left him back at Mila’s, after all. 

So he stomped over to the window, as loudly as he could, and noisily drew the curtains open. 

Vehement protests rose immediately and Yuuri bit back his grin as he stashed his newly purchased concealer in his dresser drawer. The saleswoman had said it was ‘full coverage’, whatever that meant. It was not like Yuuri even knew how to apply it. He was going to have to ask either Phichit or Isabella for help. 

“I can’t believe you two left me there all alone.” Yuuri crossed his arms over his chest and glared at the lumps under blankets that were his roommates. Phichit started mumbling something while JJ just demanded Yuuri close the curtains. Taking pity on the suffering individuals, he did, but he wasn’t planning on letting up on the interrogation. 

“Mortal danger to either of your lives is the only acceptable justification behind a betrayal like this, I hope you know.” 

Yuuri rolled his eyes when neither of them surfaced from their blanket hideouts. Deciding to leave JJ alone for the time being, and tackle one problem at a time, he dropped down on Phichit’s bunk. 

The boy groaned loudly and tried to huddle further into his blankets. Yuuri wasn’t having it, however, and despite the trouble he had in finding the edge of the blanket he dragged it away from Phichit, bundling it into a rough blob and sitting on it to block Phichit’s blindly flailing hands. 

“How could you leave me alone?” He drawled out, making sure to keep his voice light-hearted, probably because he was starting to realize he was actually hurt about this. What had happened this morning was humiliating, despite how nice the Babicheva siblings had been. To top it all off, he had no idea how he’d been making out with and he was convinced all of that could’ve been avoided if JJ and Phichit had just tried to be decent humans for once in their lives. 

“You disappeared with Victor hours before any of us left! Plus, I was smashed. I don’t even know who drove us back!” Phichit whined and Yuuri mindlessly batted his hands away, brain struggling to re-align his blame game charts in light of this new information. 

He needed to get hold of Victor because he honestly seemed like the only person with any real idea of who Yuuri had made out with. 

… 

Victor was… for lack of a better term, ignoring Yuuri. 

He hadn’t responded to his texts or taken his calls and the ‘must be sleeping in’ excuse had very nearly retired now given it was nearing seven in the evening. 

“What the fuck is wrong with him, now?” Yuuri muttered. In the back of his mind, his righteous indignation had melted into a repetitive pool of ‘stupid Yuuri must have said something stupid to Victor while drunk and now Victor will never talk to you again.’ and that… wasn’t very helpful. 

Well, neither was obsessively waiting for Victor to call back, though. 

Yuuri glared at JJ when he pointed that out and returned to refreshing his messages. 

“Listen, I am sure it’s nothing.” JJ tried to reassure him. “If it’s any help Victor hasn’t responded to me either. Maybe he has tons of homework pending or he’s busy otherwise or he’s dead in a ditch somewhere-…” 

“How is that a better option?!” 

“I am just saying, it could be a hundred things before him getting unreasonably upset at a clearly intoxicated you. Plus, you’re going to see him in school tomorrow, anyways.” 

That… was terrifying. 

Yuuri’s anger and embarrassment had melted away to leave space for hurt and fear. He didn’t understand why Victor was ignoring him, was deathly afraid it was because of something he, himself had said and had no way of confirming either which was less public or less distant than in front of the whole school, tomorrow. It was driving him insane. 

“I don’t even remember the last thing I said to him. The last thing I remember is Yuri forbidding Chris from taking off his clothes but even that is a hazy memory which is funny because I don’t even remember drinking that much.” 

From his peripheral vision, Yuuri watched JJ get up from his own bed and drop onto Yuuri’s. He was frowning. 

“You drank a lot during that game, but do you honest to god remember nothing after Yuri daring Chris to keep his clothes on?”

“Oh! That was what it was!” Yuuri paused, letting himself pour over this more likely version of his broken memory and trying to figure out if it triggered the rest of the lost ones. 

“No, I definitely don’t remember anything else.” 

“Not even when Victor kissed you?” 

Yuuri could feel his eyes bulging out. 

“Come to think of it,” JJ carried on “The two of you disappeared soon after that. You just got up and left and I guess all of us were too out of it to look for either of you before we left and-…” 

“No! Hold up!” Yuuri seemed unable to pick his jaw up off the floor. 

“Victor kissed me?” 

“Yeah,” JJ said like Yuuri’s entire world hadn’t just been knocked askew. “The stories still might be up on Sara’s Snap, wait.” 

They were and Yuuri watched that clip of Victor kissing him and then him kissing Victor so many times over and over again that JJ started squirming with discomfort. 

“I have a hack to download someone’s snap story if you want.” He suggested and barely mindful of what he was doing, Yuuri handed JJ’s phone back to him. 

“Do you think this is what he is pissed about?” 

Yuuri scoffed. 

“He kissed me.” 

Yuuri had always been great at getting over shock and hurtling headfirst into panic, but he felt strangely calm about this. A stupid little drunken kiss as it was, it seemed strangely final, like he had never really had much say in how it came about. Maybe it was because he had been drunk, or because it was already in the past. He couldn’t tell. All he knew was he wasn’t panicking and that was something to celebrate, not question. 

“Yeah, but then you kissed him.” JJ pointed out. 

“Which he didn’t seem too mad about.”  

The door of their dorm room was thrown open them, interrupting, and consequently ending the conversation right there. A harried-looking, on-the-verge-of-tears Phichit came stomping in and Yuuri was immediately on his feet. 

“Hey, what’s wrong?” 

Phichit threw his arms around Yuuri, tightening his grip till Yuuri nearly felt crushed. 

“What happened?” JJ inquired. “I thought you went out on a walk with Seung-Gil?” 

Phichit didn’t say anything, but he didn’t let go of Yuuri either, not for a good five minutes. When he finally did, he looked way calmer. Yuuri indicated for JJ to sit beside Phichit while he went about fixing him some coffee, anyway. 

“I just- I am so stupid.” He finally said. 

“Lies.” JJ immediately protested. “You’re one of the smartest people I know.” 

“Just out of curiosity,” Phichit grinned, a hint of humor returning to his gaze at JJ’s passionate declaration. “Are you the smartest person you know?” 

“Obviously not,” JJ said. “Bella. But that’s not the point and don’t think you can distract me, either. What happened?” 

Phichit sighed. 

“It’s really nothing. You know, how I always make a big deal out of nothing? It’s just that. I mean, look at how I barged in here. Nothing that extreme even happened.” 

Abandoning the coffee preparation, for the time being, Yuuri turned to Phichit. 

“We’ll decide how extreme it was for ourselves. Just spit it out, Peach.”

“I blew up on Seung-Gil over nothing.” 

It was rare for Phichit to resort to Yuuri-speak which was just a convenient term for personal belittlement and self-gaslighting that Yuuri was prone to when he was having an exceptionally bad episode, so to see Phichit talk that way about himself made Yuuri feel jarred. 

“You had an argument with Seung-Gil. Kind language, Phichit. That’s what you always say to us.” JJ reminded Phichit and it was always moments like these when Yuuri felt extremely grateful for JJ. He was way more articulate than Yuuri ever would be. 

“He was just worried about how drunk I got last night, especially when he wasn’t even there to look out for me and he was trying to get me to see how careless I had been and telling me I can’t keep doing that and I just- I don’t know why I felt so attacked. I overreacted and stormed away like a two-year-old and god, this is going to be so much more difficult to sort out now.” Phichit rambled. 

JJ and Yuuri exchanged a glance. 

“Did you overreact or did he tell you that you were overreacting?” Yuuri asked. 

Phichit rolled his eyes. 

“I was there, Yuuri. You weren’t.” 

“You’re a pretty level-headed guy. If you felt attacked, it was probably not for nothing. I just don’t understand why he needs to give you such hell over a mistake nearly everyone here has made before.”

“And Mila and you are such close friends! It wasn’t like you were alone, there either!” JJ chimed in. 

“How would you feel if your boyfriend was out partying the entire night and couldn’t even remember who brought him back home? Thank fuck, I didn’t mention Chris’ fucking signature on my butt! I have no idea how that one would have ended.” 

They tried to explain to Phichit how Seung-Gil’s behavior seemed iffy at best, but Phichit was convinced he was to blame. Yuuri was starting to think it was more because of his guilt about the signature thing than any real fault of his in the argument he had had with Seung-Gil. Yuuri was also starting to realize it was futile to try to argue with Phichit so he let it go. 

He was distracted by all of his own issues, soon enough, anyway. 

Hours later, Yuuri found himself in bed, staring blankly at Victor’s chat box which showed no new replies, and felt his eyes cloud with tears. He almost sent Victor a teary voice-note, demanding to be told why he was being ignored. He was confused and unnerved and he needed his friend to tell him it’d be fine, and not to mention, help him find the person he had later made out with, as well. Victor wasn’t responding though and as dismissive as Yuuri had been of JJ’s suggestion, he was starting to believe it was because of that stupid game. 

Right there and then, Yuuri decided he would tell Victor the next day that they could forget all about it if he wanted. They would never talk about it again. If Victor was honestly so disgusted by the idea of kissing Yuuri he didn’t have to remember he had, he just needed to stop ignoring Yuuri, so they could go back to being friends. 

With a deep breath, Yuuri dried his eyes, plugged his phone in, and told himself he was going to sleep. He needed rest, and that became obvious when he found himself on the edge of dreamland mere seconds after putting his phone away. 

Even with the shit storm that the day had been and despite the scared ache in his heart, he still couldn’t help wondering, as he drifted off to sleep, how it must have felt to kiss Victor. 

Chapter Text

Victor didn’t wake up feeling half as shitty as Yuuri that morning because neither did he sleep with contacts in, nor was he very prone to hangovers but that was quickly made up for by the sheer and utter panic that began to overwhelm him when he started remembering what had happened the night before. 

What he’d done the night before. 

Victor couldn’t quite explain (or understand) why his lungs started to give up on him, or why he suddenly found it difficult to breathe but bad was made worse when he shifted around on the bed and realized he wasn’t alone on it. 

Yuuri was still there, peacefully dozing, and really, all Victor could do from there on out was run. 

So, he ran. He shut the wheezing, panicking part of his brain off, threw his clothes back on, literally sprinted out of Mila’s house and to his car, and thanked every deity he knew for not letting him be spotted as he sped off to his house. 

He considered stopping for some coffee before heading on back home, for all of a second, before he decided he needed to take a shower first and wash all of… that off of his body. 

The ghost of Yuuri’s lips all over his skin still lingered- soft, gentle torture at its best. For a reason he couldn’t understand, tears were making their way out of his eyes and his breathing remained out of control. He didn’t know why he was having such an extreme reaction either, he tried to convince himself. It was a drunken mistake! He didn’t need to make a big deal out of this!

He was sure Yuuri would agree too. He wasn’t a homo either.

Although he had been suspiciously close with Phichit all this time. 

No. Victor forcefully shook his head. This was the exact sort of paranoia that had ruined his years-long friendship with Chris. Shit happened. They were both drunk. It was a mistake and Victor would deal with it like a sensible person. 

… and if it was a mistake induced by over-consumption of alcohol that was never going to be repeated again, of course, the sensible way to deal with it was to pretend it never happened. 

Victor wouldn’t let this ruin another one of his friendships, especially since he was as much to blame for this as Yuuri. More, even, since he had been the one to initiate things both times last night. He just needed some time and space to file the entire experience away so he didn’t find himself on the edge of a panic attack if he so much as thought about it, and then everything would be just fine! 

He repeated the words to himself countless times on his way home, like a magical mantra that would sort this entire mess for him. All this time, his hand kept rising to the back of his neck, scratching the skin red and raw. Somewhere around there were hickeys he had spotted on his reflection in the car window when he was getting in and he wanted them gone. 

They didn’t magically disappear by the time he got home. His father caught sight of him while he was trying to sneak in and considering he was the less dramatic half of Victor’s parents, his disapproval only came out as a questioning frown and pursing of his lips. 

“I was at Mila’s last night. Got a bit tipsy so I stayed over.” 

Victor provided by way of explanation. He knew his father won’t question him much. His parents weren’t all that against what they called ‘party culture’. If anything, Dimitri, Katia, Igor, all of them seemed to encourage a frat-boy lifestyle, so to say. Victor’s parents openly took pride in how popular their son was. It was a weird, twisted badge of honor Victor didn’t understand or care to understand. So long as they left him alone, he was good. 

As expected, Dimitri merely nodded. 

Victor thought he had gotten away with it, he thought his father hadn’t noticed, when he began moving towards the stairs without another comment from Dimitri only to be stopped at the base of the staircase. 

“Yes?” He responded to his father’s call of his name. He turned to find him smirking. 

“Which of your lady friends got lucky last night?” 

He gestured with his chin towards the handful of love bites forming into bruises under and behind Victor’s ear and towards the back of his neck. 

Victor blushed, simultaneously feeling his insides shrivel up and collapse. He stood stock-still for a couple of moments before he forced a smile onto his face. 

“It was nothing serious, father.” He tried to brush it off, knowing that won’t go over too well. 

Dimitri was frowning again, his lower lip trembling like it always did when he found himself irritated. Victor gulped. 

“You know I don’t mind partying and living it up with your mates. Lads your age ought to, I say. But messing around with every pretty sunflower you see out there is not becoming of you, Vitya. I want you to grow into a gentleman and have a proper family with a respectable lady. And I am telling you, women like that get snatched up real quick. You keep wasting your time getting your rocks off with skanks not worth your attention, and you’ll soon find all the good ones have been taken up and the girls left for you then, the ones that have been used up and discarded like hand-towels? They won’t make you a good wife, Vitya. They won’t.” 

Victor felt his ears burning, everything inside him recoiling from his father’s asinine words. Misogyny wasn’t hard to come by in this family, hell his mother herself could serve a decent portion of it, any day, any time. Victor was loath to think of what sort of a man he would have grown up to become if he hadn’t seen his parents for the vile, unloving creatures they actually were, as early as he had. 

“Yes, father.” -was all he said, out loud.   

He had also long since learned that no matter how much he screamed and raged, he couldn’t break through his parents’ bigotry. His father’s walking stick, however, found it way easier to break his legs. It was always better to nod, keep his head down, and try his level best to not become as poisonous a human being as Dimitri and Katia were. 

“So, find yourself a nice girl and stop sleeping around. You know, she’d always be welcome to our table. It would please me greatly to show that brother of a bitch Igor what sons are supposed to be bringing home to the dinner table.”  

Victor shut his eyes and gulped the soft, alluring sound of Yuuri’s moans still fresh in the back of his mind. 

“Now I vastly respect Katia’s father, you know that. He’s always been a type of a role model to me but then you remember what happened that evening. He said all of those ridiculous things like whatever flea-infested cur that faggot picks up off of the street will ever be welcome in this house.” Dimitri laughed. Victor felt tears gather in the corners of his eyes. 

“Can you imagine, Vitya, not one but two of those limp wrist freaks-… Vitya? Victor!” 

He couldn’t bear to hear anymore, feeling like every second he stood there in silence he was betraying Yuri and Phichit and Chris over and over again. 

Later, when his father would demand to know why he ran away so rudely while he was still talking, Victor would tell him he had to puke. Dimitri would be satisfied and Victor would come to loathe himself, just a little more. 

…

His parents thought they were some type of royalty, and they behaved that way. 

As far back as Victor could remember, he never had to want for anything. He had better toys than all the kids in his preschool, and back then, he remembered, he had sincerely believed he had better parents than all the kids in his preschool, too. 

Victor, on principle, never spent too long thinking about what his life was like back then, because it was mostly good and it made it so much more difficult to distance himself from his parents, to accept the truth about the sort of people they were and realize Victor didn’t want them to be a part of his life. Memories of his childhood made him feel guilty for his rebellion. Dimitri, when he allowed himself, had a very warm and affectionate smile. Katia, whatever you say about how horrible a human she truly was, had been nothing short of a lioness defending her cub when it came to little Victor. His parents, Victor knew, in their horrible, twisted ways, loved Victor and wanted the best for him. 

That was an incredibly inconvenient realization, however, and Victor kept it buried with hundreds, thousands of other emotions he did not even know he felt, could not name if he tried. His parents… were best left out of his circle of comfort, out of the circle of people he counted as his because grown-up Victor understood all of the big, fancy words little Victor never had, all too well at that. He knew Dimitri Nikiforov. He knew Katia Nikiforova. 

… and somewhere down the line, he had become so disgusted by them that it had stopped mattering that they were the people who had given birth to him. 

Victor had everything, and his parents quite liked boasting about that. Victor took years to realize it, but he had slowly become some sort of a status symbol to them, just another snide little remark thrown in the faces of people his parents deemed competition. He had to smile and bear it. He had been very young when he perfected the art of smiling through damn near everything.

The first real argument Victor had had with his father had been about his hair. Victor remembered still, even though he was merely seven then, but he had wanted to grow his hair out. Someone in his class had suggested he would look like Rapunzel with his hair long and Victor had become mesmerized by the idea. He didn’t even consider his parents would have a problem with that. 

They did, and it only got worse when Victor let slip that he wanted to grow his hair out so he could look like a princess. That was the first day his father raised his hand to Victor. That was the first day his mother turned away from him while he cried. He learned pretty quickly after that, that his parents were nice so long as he was their perfect little doll, echoing their opinions, copying their mannerisms, completely empty of everything that was his own. 

For a long time, Victor had derived some sort of sick pleasure from getting a rise out of his parents. He knew what buttons to push, always.

Victor had been blessed with a kind heart and a helpful spirit. He didn’t understand why his parents wanted him to stay away from certain kids or glared at him for smiling at the watchman or the driver, and hundreds of small things like those, so naturally, he didn’t obey them. He didn’t bother hiding it either. Grown-up Victor thought he must have been in shock that entire time. There was no other reason why he kept inviting abuse upon abuse, except for that he couldn’t believe that it had transpired at all. He must have thought he dreamt it up. He must have believed… 

As he grew up, his self-respect grew with him and it wasn’t just Victor’s cheek that Katia’s palm made contact with then, but also his ego. He stopped going against his parents, openly, that is. Through all of that, they could give him no solid reason why making friends with the janitor’s son was bad, so he remained convinced it wasn’t. He kept his friendships, he kept his heart. In a way, he did what he could to protect his own purity. Even if that meant lowering his head and nodding along to whatever vile thing his father was saying at that moment. 

Because it also meant not being suspected when he snuck extra cookies into his lunchbox for the janitor’s son, who didn’t seem to get to eat too many of them.

… and really, protecting that kid’s smile was a lot more important than saving his parent’s rotten hearts. 

The kid’s name was Eugene and he was Victor’s best friend back then. In fact, he had managed to not hate Victor too much when Victor’s dad saw them playing together during lunch hour one day and pulled some strings to get both Eugene and his father thrown out of the school. 

…

Victor sobered up, then. He learned to pick his battles. He learned to walk inside the line. 

Where required, he learned to lie. For instance, his parents didn’t know his best friend was gay. Victor had never told them. They didn’t know Mila was basically a foster daughter to a black couple. They didn’t know one of his friends was a dancer. They didn’t know he planned to move out when he was eighteen, skip a couple of cities, get a job and never look back at his parents. 

Hell, he might even change his name.

All these years, he had managed to put away a decent sum of money and he had done enough summer internships to have built a strong resume. He probably would have to wait on college for a few terms because even with hockey and a possible scholarship, he didn’t think he could manage to support himself, all by himself, and pay for college the moment he left his house.  

That plan would have to wait for a few years, though, he realized when he began growing closer to Yuri because there was just no way he could leave Yuri alone with these animals. Yes, Yuri was close to Nikolai and yes, Nikolai could be counted on to support Yuri if push came to shove but Nikolai was old and old people were prone to do this very stupid thing called 'dying' and Victor couldn’t risk it. He would only have to wait two years. If anything, maybe he could con his parents into paying for all of his tuition in a go, and once Yuri was out of school, they could both cut the Toxic Three off. 

Victor liked to dream about the sort of life they would have, the courses they would take, the jobs they’d get, the pets they could keep. It would all be wonderful! All of their friends would come over for weekend raves and leave after lunch on Sunday. Victor could almost see it, a small but airy apartment with tons of framed photographs, at least two dogs and two cats, white curtains on their windows and lots of houseplants, and a huge dinner table meant to accommodate all of their friends, Chris, Mila, Sara, Georgi, Christie, Phichit, JJ, Isabella and… Yuuri. 

Victor rolled onto his stomach and buried his face in his hands. 

A shower and hours of fantasizing about the future later, Victor still found himself reduced to a blushing mess when he thought about what had happened the night before, and it wasn’t the nice kind of blush at all. 

His mantra, ingrained into his mind by now, didn’t seem to be working. He told himself it was probably because while he was here alone with himself he couldn’t help but give in to panic, and really, until he saw Yuuri and saw how not big of a deal the night before had been for the other boy, too, he couldn’t truly believe it, could he? 

What made things worse was, Yuuri kept blowing up his phone. 

He had texted Victor barely half an hour after Victor himself had left. It was simple, it read- ‘Hi. Alive?’  

Victor had opened it up in a panic but absolutely couldn’t bring himself to type out a reply. Every time he tried to, his fingers froze and his brain decided to give up on thinking and absolutely no coherent sentence came to him to be sent by way of a reply. Soon enough, Victor gave up, finding it easier to pretend Yuuri wasn’t trying to contact him, after all. That there was nothing wrong, nothing to discuss. It had been a regular party and nothing out of sorts had happened, at all. 

Yuuri sent a few more texts throughout the day and called, too but Victor didn’t respond. To be safe, he didn’t text anyone except Chris, who had already been instructed to tell everyone Victor was just as dead to him if asked. 

It wasn’t a sustainable solution, it was quite cowardly but Victor didn’t suppose he could be blamed for doing whatever he thought would help him avoid the sheer panic thinking about what had happened threatened to engulf him with. He hated himself for how he couldn’t listen to himself and how it wasn’t that fucking big. There was little he could do about it though, except light a joint, turn up his music loud, and try to erase the memory of Katsuki Yuuri from the night before. 

A part of him couldn’t help being worried, though. Yuuri had been texting a lot. He wondered if something had happened- if he needed help. He felt guilty for ignoring his friend as out of his control as the situation was. He didn’t let himself give in to that, though. Yuuri had other friends to look after him. He was sure they would take care of him. 

Plus, Yuuri was a smart, rational man, unlike Victor’s stupid, frantic self. He would understand, he won’t panic. He would see what ought to have happened. They were drunk and playing a stupid fucking game. Could they be blamed for how bad a combo alcohol and teenage hormones were, then? Because that was probably it, they must have been pent-up, horny and their drunk selves didn’t care who they took it out on. That was all it had been. Yuuri would understand. It was not like Victor was into him, after all. 

Victor wasn’t gay. 

Of course, he wasn’t. 

…

He went to sleep repeating the words to himself. His dreams that night, a vivid replay of everything that had happened, didn’t seem to agree. 

…

Waking up the next day wasn’t easy. Victor didn’t feel any more ready to face the music than he had seconds after waking up in that bed with Yuuri, but if his parents had taught him anything, it was to slap a fucking smile on his face and deal with it, whatever the hell it was. 

So, that was exactly what Victor did. 

He got up at the same time he did every day, took the same route to his school, stopped by the same coffee shop, got the same coffee, and smiled the same, too pointy, too edgy smile that had stopped sitting right on his face when Yuuri barrelled into his life. 

That thought left him feeling warm and cold at the same time. He didn’t know what to do with it. 

One thing out of usual had happened that morning though, when Victor snuck into his mother’s room and stole her concealer, generously slapping it on himself.  

Another (and happier) out of the usual thing to happen that day, came in the form of Chris leaning glamorously against his own car as he clearly stood waiting for Victor. Truly, Victor couldn’t contain his grin, then. 

Chris had always given the most amazing hugs and after the sort of day Victor had had, he clung on just a little tighter, refusing to let the comfort of his best friend’s embrace be drawn away from him. Chris simply chuckled and tightened his hold, patting Victor on the back a couple of times. 

“Did something happen?” He asked the moment they parted, though. Victor smiled and lied. He had forgotten apart from Yuuri, there was another boy on campus who could see right through him, and that was Christophe Giacometti, who clearly wasn’t buying Victor’s shit but let it be for the minute. 

They walked inside together, and Victor decided he wasn’t yet tired of the absolutely baffled expressions everyone wore when they saw him and Chris together these days.

For a few seconds, he basked in the cocksure joy of being the center of everyone’s attention as they walked down the hallway towards their lockers, Yuuri and his sinful lips and how wrong it was that Victor knew at all that they were sinful miles, miles away from his mind.    

“Where did you disappear all of yesterday, you bloody idiot?!” 

Somebody shoved Victor into his locker from behind him, and Victor didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. He sighed, and with a roll of his eyes twisted around to face Yuri…

… and Yuuri. 

The Japanese boy stood behind his angry cousin looking strangely unsure of himself. He wouldn’t meet Victor’s eyes and his fingers kept twisting the hem of his shirt, lips pulled into a pout. 

Something deep within Victor immediately knew this was wrong. That expression had no business being on Katsuki Yuuri’s face. 

Brushing Yuri aside, Victor moved towards Yuuri, not a single thought spared to his own panic, confusion, and dread. All he knew was Yuuri shouldn’t be looking like that, ever, and Victor had to make sure of that. 

That was his responsibility. He didn’t know why, but it was. 

“Good morning, Yuuri.” He began. 

Yuuri looked up, mouth still stuck in its sad little curl and eyes unsure. Victor had never seen Yuuri look at him like that, and he didn’t like it. It was wrong, it was so wrong, in so many more ways that Victor could care to rationalize to himself. 

He tried widening his smile but it only seemed to put Yuuri off more, his frown deepening like whatever he had been suspecting had been confirmed. Victor was starting to feel his own false cheer slip when he remembered exactly what had caused this awkwardness between them.  

He nearly jumped back, stopping himself at the nick of the time, and refused to let his lips tremble. 

“You didn’t answer my messages, yesterday.” 

Almost automatically, Victor’s hand tightened around Yuuri’s arm, dragging the boy away to a less… public place than beside the lockers. Yuuri didn’t resist, still looking small next to Victor, unsure if he should even be there. Victor didn’t know how to deal with the well of self-loathing that rose within him. 

He had put that doubt on Yuuri’s face when really, all he had had to do was reply to him. They could’ve talked this through yesterday itself, and then everything would have gone back to normal, by now. Victor insisted on being an absolute dick, though, and really that was his own fault. 

It didn’t occur to him to consider why the panic that had been threatening to drown him for more than a day now fell silent in the face of his concern for Yuuri, almost as if Victor’s heart understood that nothing, absolutely nothing, had ever been more important than making sure Yuuri was smiling, happy. That, as it turned out to be, was a good thing, Victor would think months upon months in the future. That was a great thing- because Victor absolutely wasn’t ready to face the mountain of feelings Yuuri invoked within him, just then. He would have run right out of the school building, and then the city. 

“I am sorry. My eyes were burning so bad. I remember opening your text but I couldn’t even read it, so I put it aside and fell asleep. Turns out I can very well sleep through the entire day.” Victor threw in a chuckle for good measure. “Because by the time I woke up, it was so late there was no point in getting back to everyone. I thought I would just talk to you when I saw you at school.” 

As Victor spewed out lie after lie, some of the tension eased out of Yuuri’s frame. Victor almost patted himself on the back. He had at least gotten this one right. 

They stepped inside the chemistry lab, knowing it would remain empty while everyone left for homeroom. 

“Oh, okay,” Yuuri mumbled, so shy, so unlike the previously confident, sometimes aloof, sometimes challenging versions of his Victor had seen before. 

He seemed to pause, and then opened his mouth to say something more, and then stopped again. Victor’s heart thundered away, as finally, Yuuri stole his nerves and looked up into Victor’s eyes. 

“Only- I didn’t know, I thought you were mad about the game.” 

Victor was about to rush in, half-formed words already threatening to spill out in his eagerness to put this behind them, when he realized something. 

Yuuri had only mentioned the game. 

Considering what had happened in Mila’s parents’ bedroom, the kisses they had shared during the game were nothing. They had nearly tried to gobble each other in the room and if Yuuri thought Victor was pissed about the game… 

A sneaking suspicion began making its way into Victor’s mind. 

“It was just a game, Yuuri.” He replied, carefully. “Of course I won’t be mad about that.” 

People tended to forget things when they were drunk out of their minds at times, and Yuuri had definitely been very drunk. What were the chances…?   

“I know, but… I-…” Yuuri cringed, probably berating himself for not talking properly. Victor had learned Yuuri always was exceptionally hard on himself and he wanted to flick Yuuri’s forehead to remind him it was fine except his very soul recoiled at the idea of touching Yuuri, mind superimposing the image of a flushed, panting Yuuri with his eyes closed and lips parted on to the nervous face of the boy in front of him. 

“My brain just decided to run away from me, I guess.” 

Still unconvinced, Victor continued. 

“I am not mad about the game, I promise you.” 

Yuuri’s eyes flashed, a spark of annoyance lighting them up as he suddenly blurted out: 

“Why were you smiling at me like that, then?” 

“Like what?” 

“Like I have never even known you.” 

Victor froze, brain unable to compute the skydive that his heart attempted, then. 

“Gomen, Yuuri,” Victor smiled as Yuuri gasped at the Japanese term. He had always had a knack for languages and some time ago he had decided, why not? He could still only say basic stuff though and he hoped Yuuri won’t be too disappointed by that when he eventually found out. 

“I have a lot on my mind, this morning. Family stuff. It wasn’t because of you.” 

Yuuri crossed his arms. 

“I am sorry about that, but promise me Victor- I will never have to see that fake ass smile aimed at me again.” 

“I promise.” 

His fingers ached to touch Yuuri’s hand, but he maintained his distance, instead settling with giving Yuuri a genuine grin of assurance, a small one because that was all he could manage, but genuine nevertheless. 

He was pretty sure Yuuri didn’t remember what they had done. 

Or when he said game he meant that to include everything that had come after as well. Victor tried to school his expression to not give him away. But then Victor had said he wasn’t mad because it was a game so surely Yuuri would’ve mentioned it if he remembered. 

Victor’s brain was close to bursting and he decided to risk it. 

“Do you remember what happened after we left the game?”, he questioned, heart in his throat and fists balled up till his nails were digging angry crescents into his palms.  

Yuuri shook his head. 

“I don’t even remember leaving, or the game! JJ told me about the game and then Phichit told me we left. But that’s all.” 

That… was convenient. 

Victor bit back a grin.

That was very convenient. 

Chapter Text

“Do you remember what happened after we left the game?” Victor asked and Yuuri shook his head in response. 

“I don’t even remember leaving, or the game! JJ told me about the game and then Phichit told me we left. But that’s all.” 

Yuuri hadn’t realized when they began walking, but they were. He drew to a stop, however, when a handful of seconds passed without a reply from Victor.

Victor trailed a few steps forward before he noticed that Yuuri wasn’t beside him anymore, turning back to face Yuuri when he was nearly at the other end of the lab. 

“Well?” Yuuri raised a brow. “This is the part where you tell me what happened after we left and which vampire on Earth I made out with.” 

Victor stared at him, eyes still curiously blank. It was almost painful looking at Victor that day because his eyes lacked all the intensity that made him who he was. 

“What?” 

Yuuri frowned. Victor’s behavior was confusing enough that Yuuri got through the entirety of his next statement without blushing at all. 

“I woke up yesterday with a bunch of hickeys all over me and I’d like to know the name of the person who put them all there.” 

Victor continued staring at Yuuri with his kind of empty stare, which was starting to become scary now. Yuuri had a sudden urge to wrap his arms around himself. 

“… person.” 

Victor muttered when he finally jerked out of his weird coma. 

“What?” 

“You said, person. It’d be a girl, right? You’re straight so you must have made out with a girl, obviously.” 

“Uh… I guess, yeah?”

Yuuri had the strangest feeling that he and Victor were having two separate conversations with each other. 

“It’s just, you want to find her but ‘person’ doesn’t really narrow it down at all, does it?” 

“Are you trying to tell me you don’t know who it was either?” 

“How would I know who it was?” Victor’s voice rose a pitch. He wasn’t screaming but Yuuri felt like raising his palms up to show he meant no harm anyway. 

“Because we left together?” Yuuri knew that despite himself, he was glaring at Victor now. This felt like a fight, for some reason when it was anything but. Yuuri couldn’t deny how entirely wrong this entire conversation had felt, though, right from the beginning. Victor was closed off, distant, and now strangely defensive when he was supposed to be his usual stupidly upbeat self. That was what Yuuri was counting on when he let Victor draw him into this empty chemistry lab. That, or anger. He was prepared for Victor to be angry at him too, completely unjustifiable as it would have been. 

This… This strange whatever was happening here only served to wreck further havoc on Yuuri’s already frazzled nerves. 

“Oh, I forgot you don’t remember,” Victor seemed to nod to himself. He looked away from Yuuri. “We left so you could show me your salsa moves but I got a call from my dad asking me to come back home. I left right then. You were still standing next to the staircase, barely a few meters away from the room the rest of them were in so I thought you’d be fine. I am sorry, Yuuri. I should’ve taken you back to them before leaving.”

A wave of despair hit Yuuri. Victor had been his last hope. He had been convinced Victor would know who Yuuri had made out with. 

“Oh well, can’t be helped. It’s fine, either way. You are not my babysitter.” 

“I still feel responsible. I shouldn’t have left you alone.” 

Yuuri shrugged because there was nothing else to say. 

“Who knows, maybe she’ll just contact me herself.” 

…

She didn’t. 

Two weeks passed and whoever it was Yuuri had made out with, hadn’t bothered to say hi to Yuuri. For the first time, he started wondering if it was even someone from school. 

He went and asked Mila if she had invited anyone from outside school.

“No, but a lot of kids bring other kids with them to these sorts of things. There’s no way for me to tell you for sure if or how many outsiders were there that night.” 

By now, all of his extended friend circle knew Yuuri was on the lookout for whom he’d dubbed His Vampire in his mind. Frustrating as the entire thing was, Yuuri could never help feeling a flurry of nerves in his chest every time he thought about them. 

This was something that kept happening. Yuuri knew objectively, as Victor had pointed out, that it must have been a girl. He had never been with anyone but girls. However, the vampire had no gender in his mind. No face, no voice, no other identifiers either. It was just The Vampire and it was almost an effort of will to remember time and time again that it was a girl he was looking for. 

A tiny side of him had started to wish it was Ester. 

Another new development: Yuuri couldn’t explain it but he couldn’t get the girl out of his mind. He supposed that on the surface, she was exactly the type of girl he was into- smart, confident, kind, and undoubtedly gorgeous but the truth was that he barely knew her. 

From what he did know of her, she was one hundred percent out of his league, so really that tiny side of him was an annoyance, at best and cruel, at worst.  

He was also ridiculously afraid Mila could read his growing crush on her sister in his eyes or something, so he avoided her like an idiot too.

Another weird thing to have happened was that he’d come to the conclusion that Seung-Gil really didn’t like him. Seung-Gil had a pronounced disdain for all humans breathing, so technically Yuuri shouldn’t have been special but the Korean boy’s behavior towards Phichit’s roommates was particularly snobbish. He seemed to think all of them were massive cocks, Isabella and Victor included. They kept their silence because they didn’t want to cause Phichit any more stress, who littered their way with apologetic glances and pleading smiles after Seung-Gil was done being condescending. Their relationship always seemed to be in a rocky place, so everyone tried to stay out of it and be nice to Seung-Gil, if only for Phichit. 

All of that general unpleasantness was nothing compared to the obvious dislike Seung-Gil displayed for Yuuri. He went out of his way to ignore Yuuri, and when he couldn’t do that, he would glare at him, like every moment that Seung-Gil spent breathing in Katsuki Yuuri’s presence had to be spent documenting his dislike of the other man. 

It didn’t bother Yuuri by itself. He didn’t give a shit about Seung-Gil and what he thought of him but when he thought about it with their entire friend circle in mind, he just couldn’t help being worried. 

JJ and Phichit were both really, really important to him. He hadn’t known them all that long but he had known them since the first day he transferred here. Isabella had joined his shortlist of friends almost immediately, which was really fucking lucky because Yuuri and Phichit had had their theories about what sort of a person could stand to date Jean Jacques Leroy. Victor had been an unlikely but important addition to his circle. 

The circle that Seung-Gil, as Phichit’s boyfriend, was now inevitably a part of. He hung out with them a lot for someone who didn’t like them and suddenly there was a person in Yuuri’s circle who could potentially cause tons of problems between everyone. Yuuri didn’t know how to deal with that. 

Victor had told him he was being paranoid, but even the other man’s eternal good humor was starting to fail in the face of Seung-Gil’s frigid misbehavior and Victor’s initial advice (which was, be nice to Seung-Gil and he’ll eventually warm up to you) had transformed into: ‘I don’t think Phichit would stay for long with a guy like that so, don’t worry about it,’ by the end of the first week. 

The thing was, Victor didn’t live with Phichit. He didn’t understand how it was absolutely impossible to mention Seung-Gil without upsetting Phichit somehow. 

If the break-up was ever coming (and god, did Yuuri feel like a complete butt for wishing that his best friend would experience a break-up) it was nowhere visible on the horizon, yet.

Which naturally meant evenings in the dorm were tense as they could be. Since JJ and Phichit shared most of the same classes and hockey practice, the former bore the brunt of the latter’s moodiness. It was only fair then that JJ escaped the dorm quickly as he could after practice ended, leaving to hang out with Isabella and entrusting Phichit to Yuuri.   

The problem was, the evenings were also when Phichit snuck out to meet up with Seung-Gil so Yuuri was left alone in the dorm. Confused and upset, and hence prone to higher levels of jitteriness, Yuuri was finding this imposed isolation very difficult, even if it was just for a few hours. He was always brimming with nervous energy with nothing to take it out on and no one to talk to. 

Not to mention, hockey try-outs had started. 

Their school had a strange system of holding tryouts twice a year which meant that this was Yuuri’s third to last chance to play for the team before he graduated. He already knew he wasn’t going to gather the courage to do it, and the self-loathing that realization produced weighed heavily on him. 

He didn’t know what to do with himself. So he spent longer hours in the dance studio, and once that ended he would invite Victor to either join him after his hockey practice ended or they would sneak out to roam around town doing nothing but enjoying each other’s company. 

The awkwardness between the two of them had quickly melted away and if Yuuri noticed Victor’s pointed unwillingness to talk about the game he absolutely refused to think about it, mostly because he, himself couldn’t stop thinking about the game. 

If Victor so much as licked his lips, Yuuri’s heartbeat started picking up, and he’d find himself becoming fixated on the other boy’s mouth. If Victor leaned too close, Yuuri had to struggle to contain himself and not pull Victor in for a hug. Not to mention, now that Yuuri was looking, he was noticing things he had seen but never seen before. 

Like how Victor’s shoulders were just the right width to give the best hugs. Yuuri felt warm and held whenever he was in his arms. 

Like how his arms by themselves were works of art. Every time he rolled up his sleeves Yuuri felt like his heart was giving out.

Like how Victor’s butt just might be the roundest he had ever seen. He needed to slap it, he really, really did. It was right there, so perfect-

Things were becoming sort of ridiculous and every single night Yuuri thanked his stars that Victor hadn’t noticed anything. He had a feeling the Russian would freak out. 

Yuuri was no fool, though. One concrete conclusion he had reached was this: he was into Victor. 

It was a welcome thought, even if he couldn’t tell where it went from there because, in the sea of chaos that was Yuuri’s life, any sign of certainty was more than welcome. After two weeks of this nonsense, Yuuri was pretty fucking certain that his feelings for Victor had undergone… a change, so to speak. 

He didn’t know what that meant. He didn’t know if this was his characteristic curiosity or a revelation about his sexuality. He did know a lot of people experimented a fair bit to make sure but Yuuri couldn’t sit through a proper date to save his life, so he didn’t really know how he’d go about ‘experimenting’. 

He knew he was into women. He always had been. He also knew that wasn’t the end all, be all in any manner. Straight and gay were just two extremes, there was a lot in between, after all. 

His new interest in Victor was contrasted by an equally keen interest in Ester, unwilling as he was to explore either possibility. So he figured he could strike out ‘gay’ from the list at least. That was a start. 

Trying to figure out this new mystery about himself was a stress reliever in a sense because, here was a problem that won’t leave him gutted no matter what solution he eventually came up with, unlike the rest he was grappling with. It was self-exploration with nothing on the stake… except maybe his self-control around one dumb, dorky but downright dashing Russian hockey player. 

During this, Yuuri found himself achieving a new admiration for his family, especially his sister. They’d have his back, he knew that. His father and sister had expressed multiple times that Yuuri had always been an enigma to them. In their own words, every time they felt they had a handle on him, he evolved into someone bigger, more vibrant and that was apparently very exciting. Nobody in his family was very expressive when it came to affection, natural Japanese delicacy holding their words and embraces. As a result, they all knew how to read between the lines, and Yuuri understood that what they meant by all that dramatic jargon was just that they’d always accept Yuuri no matter where his neverending curiosities took him, that they were nothing less than excited to learn and love every new thing about him.

Yuuri wasn’t one to spend a lot of time thinking about how well-loved he was. He usually struggled to believe he deserved to be so, at all. When he did find himself thinking about this though, he felt he was nearly drowning in all the affection that he’d always been showered with. He didn’t think he should be surprised. He was the youngest in a family of the most loving and caring people on this Earth. It was only natural that he was well cared for, and that he always would be. 

One evening, he got especially emotional and messaged Mari- 

‘I might not be straight. I am not sure yet.’ 

His sister’s reply came nearly three days later because she was sort of an asshole like that sometimes. 

‘Tragic. Nobody should have to date men.’ 

A couple of minutes later, almost as if an afterthought, she texted again. 

‘I love you always.’ 

Yuuri felt an insane urge to take Victor to meet Mari. He could probably tell her using eyebrow wiggles alone that this was the man who had kickstarted Yuuri’s sexuality crisis. 

Yuuri snorted at the thought. 

Victor looked up from where he was sitting across from Yuuri in their tiny booth at this waffle house Victor had been wanting to check out since they first heard it was being set up. 

“What’s funny?”, he asked, perking up in anticipation of a good joke. 

“Nothing”, Yuuri grinned “I just have the best family in the world.” 

Victor smiled in acknowledgement and Yuuri felt his heart hurt at how small and sad the expression looked, probably the complete opposite of what Victor was going for. 

“I’ll take you to meet them someday. You’ll love them! You can soak in the hot springs and I’ll show you the Hasetsu Castle! There were supposed to be ninjas inside, you know?” 

Joy and a hint of excitement snuck onto Victor’s face, and he nodded eagerly. 

It was a promise. 

…

It was a Sunday night and Yuuri had school the next day. Sleep was still nowhere to be found. 

Across the room, JJ was snoring away. It should have been annoying, but JJ snored like men in the movies did, low and soft. His snores had become, in a way, Yuuri and Phichit’s favorite lullaby. It was the least obnoxious thing about the kid.

That night, however, Yuuri was wide awake, and so was Phichit on the top bunk. He could tell, because Phichit wouldn’t stop turning and twisting, seemingly unable to find a comfortable position to sleep in. Yuuri could relate. 

As hard as it was to find time to talk to his best friend these days, Yuuri decided to take his chance. 

“Hey! Pssst, Peach!” He whispered. Seconds later, Phichit’s head popped out from the side of the mattress and he squinted down at Yuuri. 

“You up?” Yuuri asked. 

“Nope.” 

Phichit began climbing down and Yuuri shifted around to make space for Phichit on his own bed. Once before, on Phichit’s insistence, they had cuddled for about an hour in the night. Yuuri had been crazily uncomfortable for the first few minutes, till he realized Phichit was just as tense. Then, he forced himself to relax and tighten his hold around the other boy and speak to Phichit till he relaxed. 

Bubbly as Phichit was, Yuuri knew he felt lonely and isolated sometimes, far away from his family and alone in a country where no one even spoke his language. Japan and Thailand, though miles apart and wildly different, still shared more similarities than either country did with the States, and hence, Phichit had sought his company that night. Yuuri would be damned if he disappointed. 

This time, Phichit did not climb in with Yuuri, instead choosing to sit near Yuuri’s feet. Yuuri frowned but didn’t say anything. Phichit was no longer single, Yuuri figured the boundaries had changed now. 

Even in the darkness of the room, Yuuri could see how not okay Phichit was. His shoulders drooped low and his head rested gingerly on his knees, which he hugged to his chest. He kept rubbing his arms, and he didn’t say anything. 

The entire display was so unlike Phichit, Yuuri nearly kicked himself for not having noticed it earlier. Phichit was seriously upset. Something had happened and Yuuri had been so busy avoiding uncomfortable confrontation that he’d abandoned his friend alone with that asshole. 

Yuuri wanted to sit up and hug Phichit, but he didn’t feel like he deserved to. Shrinking with shame, he shyly began,

“What’s wrong, Peach?” 

A shaky but aggravated sigh fell from Phichit’s mouth and he shook his head. 

“Nothing’s wrong. Do not start with me right now.” 

“You’re sad! I can see it!” 

“So what?” Phichit put on a high-pitched voice and rambled on sarcastically. 

“I am a grown boy, Yuuri! And grown boys sometimes feel sad! They can deal with it. You’re nobody’s mom.” 

Yuuri couldn’t deny the sting of hurt that produced, but he immediately knew it would be pointless to push Phichit just then. When he got short and sarcastic, you could take it for granted that he would be an ever-tightening fist from there on out. 

Yuuri decided to switch tactics, figuring if he talked about himself Phichit might draw closer and find it easier to confide in Yuuri after. Hopefully, he began-

“Okay, I am sorry. That’s not what I wanted to talk about anyway.” 

“What, then?” 

“I-… how did you figure out you were gay?” 

Phichit shrugged, but his voice sounded less vitriolic anyhow. 

“I just did. It became obvious.” 

“How?” Yuuri pressed on. 

“I just sort of knew, I guess? I can’t pinpoint the moment I became aware but it was obvious enough when I started questioning. There was a trail of clues.” 

Yuuri nodded. That made sense. 

“Okay, I am questioning, alright. But I don’t know the answer.” 

“Wow. Okay. What made you question? Maybe that is the answer.”

“Victor.” 

“The game?” 

Yuuri was about to answer in assent before he hesitated. Laying here in the darkness with his best friend by his side, it was easier to see things that hadn’t been visible before. 

“No. I don’t even remember the game. But I want to, and I want to do it again and I guess that’s it. I don’t know if it’s a curiosity thing, a Victor thing, or an all men thing.”   

Phichit laughed. 

Yuuri had never heard him laugh like that before. It made him want to cry. 

“A Victor thing? That’s possible. He looks like a god, doesn’t he? So perfect. You see, not every boy looks like Victor. The rest of us can’t compare with him. Or with Chris. Or with you, as a matter of fact. Plain, clumsy dumbasses. We still deserve love, though. Do you think you could want someone like that? Someone who doesn’t look worth the effort even half of the time? Because otherwise, it just might be a Victor thing.” 

As he registered what Phichit was saying, Yuuri felt his eyes widen. He didn’t know if he was confused or horrified. He just knew Phichit shouldn’t talk like that, in that tone. It hurt Yuuri and he shied away from even thinking about how much it must be hurting Phichit. 

JJ wasn’t snoring anymore. 

Yuuri sat up, reaching out for Phichit and placing a hand on his knee. 

Before he could find something to say, thin, cold fingers brushed against his ankle and Yuuri froze. 

“Maybe I am your answer, then. If it’s a boy thing or a Victor thing. I can help you find out.” 

Yuuri frowned. He didn’t think this was about his sexuality anymore. 

Phichit’s fingers trailed up his calf, slowly, excruciatingly slowly. Yuuri shivered, still frozen like a deer caught in headlights. 

“Tell me, Yuuri,” Phichit had never said Yuuri’s name like that before, and weird as it should’ve felt, all it did was tear a soft gasp out of him. “Do you want to find out? Do you want me to help you find out?” 

Phichit lowered his knees, leaning closer to Yuuri. Without his glasses, Yuuri couldn’t properly make out his expression and he believed that was for the best. 

Phichit’s thumb stroked Yuuri’s skin in circles. He didn’t think he had ever been this aware of his leg before. 

“What are you suggesting, Peach?” 

Maybe saying it would make Phichit stop, though Yuuri couldn’t quite tell if he wanted Phichit to stop or not. His intent was quite clear and concerned as Yuuri was, he wasn’t… disinclined. He blamed it on his libido. Victor had driven it nearly insane. 

“I think you know what I am suggesting,” Phichit whispered. He must have sensed Yuuri’s crumbling resolve for while he didn’t move his hand any higher, his fingers didn’t stop stroking Yuuri’s skin anyway, setting every inch they touched tingling pleasantly.

Yuuri couldn’t bring himself to say anything. He nodded timidly instead, not sure what he was agreeing to, but anticipating it nonetheless. 

Phichit surged up, catching Yuuri in a quick and hard kiss. He withdrew before Yuuri could even kiss him back. He didn’t pull away, though. Waiting instead, to see if Yuuri would change his mind. 

Yuuri shuffled closer. He couldn’t see where Phichit’s mouth was, so he brought his hands to cup the other boy’s face, feeling for his lips with a thumb before leaning in to kiss Phichit’s bottom lip twice. 

He could feel Phichit shudder. 

Phichit climbed onto Yuuri’s lap, pulling him back into a kiss a second later. Yuuri groaned, the new pressure on his groin more pleasurable than he had thought it would be. 

Their boxers were very ineffective barriers as it was. 

Phichit’s arms tightened around Yuuri’s shoulders, pulling him as close as he could go. Yuuri’s hands flew to hold on to Phichit’s hips, sneaking inside his shirt, making Phichit whine and arch into him. 

Yuuri groaned. 

Whatever this was, had very little to do with him and everything to do with Seung-Gil, of that he was sure. 

Yuuri’s eyes flew open at the thought, and Yuuri quickly pulled away. 

“You have a boyfriend, Phichit!” 

“He never holds me like this,” Phichit said. It sounded very little like an excuse or even a complaint. It was muttered almost mindlessly, like a private thought voiced by mistake. Yuuri pretended to not hear it. It was easy. He was already half-hard. 

Phichit pulled him in again by the collars of his shirt, and Yuuri let him, finding it easy to silence his conscience when he was turned on so. He opened willingly for Phichit’s plundering tongue, moaning as the other boy’s hands trailed down his chest. 

Phichit felt so delicate in his lap, with his thin waist and bony limbs. Yuuri wanted to flip him over and drive into him till they both came. 

Carefully, he removed the covers from his legs, throwing them to the floor, and then he did just that. 

Phichit yelped as his back hit the bed, hands scrambling for purchase across Yuuri’s shoulders. Yuuri chuckled a little, before lowering himself on top of that soft, pliant body. 

In this position, it was easier to feel Phichit’s own erection.    

“Say you want me, Yuuri. You do, don’t you?” 

Much as it would have been easier to, Yuuri couldn’t ignore the desperation in Phichit’s voice. The spell broke, and he could finally see his best friend again. 

Phichit needed help, not for Yuuri to try to take advantage of him. 

Yuuri ground his hips against Phichit’s, making him groan. He didn’t let Phichit draw him into another kiss though. 

He smiled, counting on Phichit’s 6/6 vision. 

“I want you so, so bad, Phichit but that’s not going to heal the hurt he caused, is it?” 

Phichit ceased all movement, his soft gasps only sounding incredibly vulnerable in the silence around them. Yuuri waited. He would give Phichit whatever he asked for, he would but he needed Phichit to understand what they were doing first. 

Phichit shook, tearing himself away from Yuuri and curling into a ball. Careful to keep his erection away from Phichit’s butt, Yuuri lay down behind him, ready to talk whenever Phichit wanted to.

“He hates me,” Phichit whispered an eternity later when Yuuri’s hard-on had completely died and he was only half awake.

“He doesn’t,” Yuuri said, reflexively. 

“He does and I don’t even know what I did. There’s no reason, no fucking reason…-”

“So you decided to give him one?” 

Phichit fell silent. Yuuri sighed and turned to spoon his best friend. He tightened his arms around Phichit’s waist and felt ashamed for the mad frenzy that had gripped him earlier. He stroked Phichit’s side in silent apology. 

“I am sorry. You just needed someone to talk to and I took advantage of you.” Phichit muttered, sounding smaller and smaller by the minute. 

“I did the same thing. I should have stopped you and made you tell me what was wrong.” 

Phichit hummed. 

“I’ll forgive you if you forgive me.” He said. 

Yuuri smiled. 

“Deal.” 

They were silent for a few more minutes. This time Yuuri was far from asleep. 

“Well? Did it help, though? Did you figure it out?” 

“Peach, you felt how hard I was. If that’s not being into men, then I don’t think I have ever been into women either.”  

…

In the morning, JJ couldn’t stop grinning around them so Yuuri figured he had heard everything. Yuuri told him he was bisexual. 

“Yeah, that became pretty fucking obvious, dude.” 

Phichit giggled from some corner of the room and Yuuri blushed. 

JJ immediately turned to their third roommate. 

“You need to dump him. That boy doesn’t deserve an inch of your heart, Phichit Chulanont.” He barked out. Yuuri had never before heard him sound so pissed. 

…

Seung-Gil didn’t show up to their lunch table that afternoon and Phichit only grinned when Yuuri glanced at him. He took that to mean the dumping had been done. 

JJ had been asked to make sure they got a separate table from the rest of the group that day. Only the three roommates, Isabella and Victor occupied this one. 

Yuuri liked that better. He wasn’t a public person, and he didn’t want to make a big deal out of this whole thing. It was his own business so he didn’t believe he owed anyone a coming out either.

Except for Bella and Victor. 

His heart thundered in his chest, eyes unable to stop glancing Victor’s way. Phichit noticed and they held hands under the table. 

He knew Victor wasn’t- that’d be too much to hope for. His reaction still mattered though. 

“I am bisexual, guys. Or that is what I know so far. I know I definitely like women, but I think I like men too.” He blurted out when the rest of the table was gossiping about something he couldn’t care less about. 

There was silence for a couple of seconds and Yuuri kept his gaze firmly on the table. Phichit squeezed his hand, and he squeezed back. 

“Oh, Yuuri that’s fantastic news! More options to choose from!” Isabella cried. She was across the table, thankfully, or else she would have tried to hug Yuuri, he could tell. 

“Yeah, I guess.” He muttered. There was a grin on his face that he wasn’t even aware of.  

“Congratulations, Yuuri,” Victor said. 

Yuuri finally looked into his eyes, hope rising inside him. Victor was smiling. 

His eyes looked so cold, though. 

Frozen. 

Furious. 

For the first time since that day in the dance studio, Yuuri wanted to run away from Victor. 

Chapter Text

Once Victor had calmed down, he found he wasn’t stupid enough to think his displeasure with Yuuri was in any way valid. Unfortunately for the two of them, Victor was nowhere near that realization when Yuuri caught him.  

Oh, he had smiled through Yuuri’s declaration. He didn’t raise his voice like he wanted to. This time, he hadn’t underestimated Yuuri like he was wont to, either. He didn’t kid himself into thinking Yuuri would miss the tightness around his eyes or the flatness of his tone. The boy would confront him and maybe, just maybe, this time Victor won’t lie. Maybe this time Victor would tell Yuuri how exploited he felt by Yuuri’s sudden realization.  

He didn’t need to be a genius to figure out what had triggered Yuuri’s sexual awakening, and he didn’t want to be looked at in that way. 

It set his heart racing.  

He didn’t want to face what it meant for Yuuri to be looking at him that way.  

It was a truth beyond him that he didn’t wish to so much deny as hide away from, forever. 

He didn’t want to face what it said about him , most of all. 

(Disgusting)  

He gritted his teeth.  

He didn’t say shit when Yuuri confronted him though, mostly because Yuuri didn’t.  

He called out to Victor when Victor was on his way out of the school, a mere five minutes after the bell had rung. Usually, Victor would wait for his friends, but his class had been handed a huge stack of homework that afternoon and that was the only thing on his mind as he made his way out of the classroom.  

Or so went the mantra he was feeding himself, at least.  

He knew that subconsciously, he must have wanted to avoid Yuuri but he told himself he was rushing out because he needed every minute he could get to turn in his homework by the next day. He was seriously considering missing practice, even and he figured that had to count for something.  

So, when Yuuri’s voice reached him, he genuinely wasn’t expecting it. It made him freeze, never allowing him a chance to regulate his bloody expression. 

Whatever he looked like made Yuuri’s eyes widen for a second before he was turning around and running away, pace so frantic you would think he believed Victor would chase him. 

Victor didn’t.

…

That day was pretty uneventful otherwise. Victor did homework and avoided Yuuri. To be fair, Yuuri didn’t give him a chance to avoid him because he was dead quiet across all their active messaging threads. Victor knew. He had checked, multiple times.  

That only served to piss him off more, when it should’ve only made him feel relieved. He refused to think about the hows and the whys of that situation.  

He knew he was acting like a clown and he didn’t need to psycho-analyse that, only stop it. 

There was a weird sensation flooding his senses, however, that he couldn’t understand and his rage at Yuuri just refused to fade, even as the day continued to. He knew Yuuri was hanging out with Yuri and Mila that evening because he had seen as much on Mila’s stories. For some reason, that had Victor seething too.  

So, Yuuri wasn’t allowed to be anything but straight, stop texting Victor, or hang out with his friends. Cool.  

… because that made complete sense.  

Victor groaned, locking and throwing his phone away, trying to return to the wall of text open on his laptop. In those moments if someone asked Victor what the assignment was all about, he couldn’t tell them shit, despite the fact that he had been working on said assignment for the past four hours now.    

He decided he needed to snap out of it, and actually pay attention to what he was doing. The thing with Yuuri would sort itself out, eventually. It always did. 

…

After losing a good night’s sleep over the thing with Yuuri which had not, in fact, sorted itself out, Victor only found himself more confused and frustrated. 

Sitting inside his car with his still full coffee cup in hand, Victor watched the kids milling about the parking lot the next morning, eyes clouded and mouth open as if he were in the middle of voicing a thought before he decided that he didn’t want to. The silence inside the vehicle was suffocating, but the crowds outside seemed more so, somehow. 

Shaking his head, Victor reached for the door to get out, only to jerk away before making contact. He sat there, unable to understand why his heart seemed to race at the very thought of stepping outside, unable to understand why so much as breathing out loud seemed to be a transgression, unable to understand why he suddenly found himself gripped with an urge to absolutely not move at all. It had been incredibly compelling an urge, too. Victor hadn’t been able to so much as put on music through the whole drive over. 

The world was tilting, he was falling. He was looking for something to grip at, though he couldn’t tell what it could be. 

His coffee, maybe? It was the same as every day. 

He took a sip. He retched.  

Someone at the cafe must have fucked up. They had given him a caramel mocha today, something he had never ordered. 

…

He never made it to school that day, calling Georgi outside and giving him his work to be submitted instead. He drove back home, the air around him oppressively still, his heart anything but.  

What is happening? He couldn’t stop asking himself. Everything felt weird, disjointed. He was angry at Yuuri, but not in a way that made sense, because being angry at Yuuri didn’t make sense. He didn’t want to scream at Yuuri, he didn’t want to so much as say a word to the boy.   

No, he was angry at Yuuri and it made him want to disappear. 

… to sit so still he would no longer be visible.  

He was angry at Yuuri, but maybe he wasn’t.  

He felt cheated, somehow. He wanted to grab Yuuri by the shoulders and shake him, except he didn’t know what he would say. Don’t be gay? That… wasn’t the point. That wasn’t quite it.  

“Vitya! Look who’s over!” His dad called out to him sometime in the afternoon. Victor could hear laughter echoing from downstairs and his father’s voice was jovial enough to narrow down the expected visitors by a lot, considering the man really didn’t like anyone. 

Victor was in no hurry to go greet whoever had arrived. He called out a half-hearted ‘coming!’ and remained slouching on the bed for a good minute or so more.  

When he finally got downstairs, his jaw dropped at the sight of the person under Dimitri’s arm.  

Chris shot him a discreet wink, as he continued laughing at whatever Dimitri was saying, looking absolutely delighted to stand around and make small talk with the man.  

Victor had forgotten how much his parents adored Chris, or the Chris they thought they knew, anyway.  

His father couldn’t seem to be able to get over how long it had been since Chris had last visited, judging from how he kept bringing it up no matter how many times Chris and Victor deflected that line of questioning. Victor hadn’t told his parents about his falling out with Chris, which he conveyed to the other boy with a very non-complicated gesture of vigorous but covert head-shaking, and they had to get creative. A brainwave hit Chris at just the right moment and he began making excuses about how they were supposed to be over at another friend’s house for a study group. Victor hopped on, really stressing how late they already were and it took them half an hour but they finally managed to escape Victor’s father.  

Out in Chris’ car, the two burst out in laughter. 

“He talks so much!” Chris cried out.  

“Only around you.” Victor shook his head. “He is obsessed with the idea of you being the perfect friend for me, thinks your company would have a great influence on me so he tries to make you feel happy and comfortable in the house.”  

Chris snorted.  

“How dare he? I have done everything I possibly can to establish myself as the worst fucking influence on anyone with morals.”  

“That you have.”  

“I just wanted a quiet afternoon in. My family is going crazy for some reason, everyone is in such a hyper mood. I thought we could just hang out in your room.” 

Victor blinked and tried his best to tear his eyes off of Chris, with no success.  

“You are here because you were worried about me. We don’t just ‘hang out’ anymore, Chris.” 

Chris sighed, and Victor could see him considering lying before he rejected the idea.  

“In my defense, I would love to just hang out with you too.”  

“Are you sure?”  

“Victor…-” 

“I just don’t know how to be around you anymore. I mean it’s easy when it’s happening. It's crazy how little you have changed but then I don’t know how to approach you. I don’t know how to ask you to go somewhere or do something with me because I don’t know how much I get to ask. I don’t know where I stand with you.”  

Chris’ gaze remained steady because as Victor had learned over the years, there’s very little that could throw him off. What Victor didn’t know was if Chris actually always feels that steady and in control or if his poker face was just exemplary.  

“That’s the guilt talking, Vitya.”  

Victor felt his chest constrict. He hadn’t heard that nickname coming from his friend’s lips for just a bit too long. 

“It’s not as if the guilt is wrong. I should be feeling guilty. I do feel guilty.”  

“Well, you have it on good authority from the offended party that it’s all okay, now and you are more than welcome to forgive yourself. It was years ago. We were stupid.”  

Victor laughed. He couldn’t help the odd little choking sound it brought along.  

“I was angrier then than you are now. It shouldn’t be this easy.”  

“Why not?” Chris asked. “Why shouldn’t it be easy to make up for silly mistakes you made when you didn’t know better? It’s who you are now that counts today and the boy in front of me is nothing like the boy who ran away from me that day.”  

Victor winced, because that was a lie wasn’t it.  

He found himself suddenly and rudely reminded of how he had reacted when Yuuri came out or even when Yuri did. He wasn’t different. He hadn’t learned. He hadn’t grown. He still had a visceral overreaction to people coming out to him.  

You were just worried about Yuri though, not mad at him for being gay.   

No, that heinous treatment was only reserved for Yuuri.

It came to Victor, then how similar the slimy tendrils wrapping around his throat and constricting his voice felt to the painful coils of betrayal he had battled when Chris first came out. He couldn’t figure out why he felt betrayed then and he’d gotten no better at it after all these years either. All he knew was he was being stupid, irrational, and causing damage to someone who had trusted him.  

He felt Chris place a hand on his shoulder.  

“Listen, Victor, if you don’t want to talk about this or what happened today morning, that’s fine. We can just hang out. Like we used to and then we’ll go from there, okay? I have missed you.” 

“I have missed you too. So much.”  

“Naturally.” Chris grinned. “Though you’ve done pretty well in the friend department, I will have to say. There I was thinking you’d be all alone after our fall-out.” 

“Bullshit. I’ve always been great at making friends.”  

“You are great at collecting fans, Vitya. Friendship requires people to know each other, which you have always been inherently uncomfortable with.” 

Victor laughed and brushed it off because he couldn’t truly understand what that meant but it sounded like the truth anyway. 

…

Spending time with an old friend seemed to be exactly what Victor needed because, by the time Chris was dropping him back home, he felt more tethered and stable than he had for the last two days. 

While drifting off to sleep, he just couldn’t help but wonder though, if Yuuri even knew what he was talking about. What had he even had to judge from? That measly game? Something he didn’t even remember? It sounded stupid to Victor.  

They had done so much more, so much more , and Victor was the one saddled with those memories and he hadn’t let himself become confused like that. Because he knew himself, clearly.  

That last part made Victor laugh. He was too sleepy to figure out why, though.  

He hadn’t let himself become confused like Yuuri, even though he couldn’t stop thinking about their kisses, couldn’t stop remembering them. He couldn’t deny how right Yuuri felt in his arms. He couldn’t forget it either and yet, he knew…  

He knew…  

So how would Yuuri know?

…

The next time he opened his eyes, he was in his old house, the one they lived in when he was in primary school.  

The one with the chessboard tiles on the floor. 

Victor felt himself smile, those tiles had always been very amusing to him, till he realized that he was looking down at them from a height that his present body didn’t validate. In fact, it was a height no human body could possibly reach. 

Why, he ought to be floating along with the ceiling. 

There was someone down there on the floor though, someone crouching low as if looking to hide. Though Victor couldn’t see who they were hiding from, or what they were even hoping to achieve, exposed as they were to scrutiny from all sides of the empty hall. 

Oh, the hall was empty. Why? Victor couldn’t ever remember having seen the hall so bare before. Maybe that was why it now looked bigger than it had ever been. 

The figure remained crouching. Deathly silent too, not a squeak was to be heard there. They had flowing silver hair, exactly like Victor’s but longer, way longer than Victor had ever been allowed to grow his. The strands pooled all around them, and it should have looked ethereal, but the sight only sent a shiver of terror down Victor’s spine. 

… and just so, he knew that was him. All alone in that huge hall, sitting so still like that… Victor knew he was hoping if he made no moves whatsoever nobody would see him. 

Victor could see him though, clear as day, right there. With his bent spine and his too-long hair, hiding away the face Victor knew he would instantly recognize. He was right there, and Victor was the only one who could see him. 

He wanted to reach out to the figure… to himself. Say something, he wasn’t sure exactly what, but something. 

He tried, and the room melted away. 

The scene changed around him and before he knew it, Victor was on his back in what appeared to be a bed. This was a school dorm, he could tell though he didn’t know why. There were frames on the walls, but none of them were solid enough to be recognized. Victor squinted, but he didn’t get too long to struggle because suddenly he felt pressure building around his neck. He looked down to see he was in a grey suit. He remembered it from when he had worn it at his parents’ last anniversary party. Someone was tugging on his tie though, and Victor followed the hand upwards… 

… until his eyes found a grinning face and warm brown eyes looking back at him. 

“Hello, there.” Yuuri giggled, honest to God giggled “I see you returned.” 

The boy’s features kept blinking out of focus, his smile too quick to fade, and his eyes too mischievous to look into. Victor felt himself growing smaller, but his body didn’t. Yuuri was drawing closer now, a hand still wrapped around Victor’s tie, and the other by Victor’s head. 

“I returned. Now you have me where you want me.”

Yuuri shook his head and giggled again. It was so unlike him, but Victor didn’t hate it. 

“No, I have you where you want to be. That’s why you returned.” 

Returned from where? 

The thread of thought flew out of Victor’s grasp before he could even truly register it. 

“Where did I go?” 

“You went to buy a wig.” 

Yuuri wasn’t very interested in talking though, his tone was notably clipped even in its dreamlike thickness. His mouth had found Victor’s sweet spot, lips locked around the skin to the side of Victor’s throat. Victor heard himself moan and realized their clothes had melted away.

“A wig?” He asked nevertheless. 

“A wig for Yuri.” 

“Yuri?” 

Yuuri was getting impatient now, wrestling Victor’s hands away, away, and upwards. Victor felt something pin him down. He couldn’t tell what. Yuuri was descending on him again, lips now edged for Victor’s own. Victor arched upwards, eager to meet him- 

But he woke up just in time and for real this time. 

Victor stared around himself in the dark. He was in his own bed and the frenzy had faded enough for him to realize it was just a dream… and also that he was hard. 

Without sparing himself a single hesitant thought, he shrugged out of his shorts and gripped his member. 

He refused to think about the name he choked out when he came. He had to, or else he’d never get to sleep.

…

When Victor woke up the next morning, his body had decided to betray him again. The shame of reality couldn’t be sheathed by the darkness this time, and he rushed into the shower, sweaty and on the verge of tears. 

…

School was tense the next day. Victor was jumpy and he didn’t know exactly who’s arrival he was dreading so much.

… which was a lie he kept telling himself to seem less like a coward in his own head. He knew exactly who it was. 

Yuuri made no efforts to seek Victor out, though and Victor attended classes with Christie, Georgi, and Chris. Sara, Mila, and Yuri decided to join them for lunch and they headed over to the usual table they occupied with Yuuri and his friends. 

Victor tried to keep his expression neutral but he must have failed terribly because Chris gave him a look and started laughing. 

It didn’t matter, though. Yuuri wouldn’t so much as look in his direction. 

That… was so surreal in itself, as if Victor had been expecting Yuuri to jump him the moment they met. He felt embarrassed and for a second as if Yuuri owed him an apology. It was a strange feeling. He hated being himself for a good minute there. 

This must be all of this sexuality talk. It was confusing him. He just needed to get a grip. It would all go away in time. 

This worked just fine, too. If he didn’t talk to Yuuri, his head wouldn’t be getting all gross and messed up. He remembered the dream he had had that night and felt himself wince. It was for the best if they maintained their distance from each other. 

“Cherry,” a purring voice broke through Victor’s thoughts, all too familiar. Before he even turned to his friend, Victor was rolling his eyes. 

… and then he noticed who Chris was talking to, whom he had his arm around. Almost immediately, Victor could feel his jaw tightening. 

“Why do you call him that?”, he snapped. 

Out loud. 

All conversation was suddenly dropped, as everyone’s eyes found Victor’s steadily reddening face. He could not believe how pissed he had sounded there. 

“Problem?” Chris raised a brow from where he was sitting next to Yuuri. Besides Chris, Phichit was looking pretty fucking pissed off, eyes glaring at Victor. Had he been this angry all day? Victor hadn’t noticed. Even though being perched in Seung-Gil’s lap undercut the thunder of his expression by a whole lot, Victor still gulped. 

Yuuri was still not looking at him. 

“I…-” Victor scrambled. “I just didn’t know that was a nickname. Did you mean ‘chérie’ like, they say in French?”  

JJ didn’t look all too pleased with Victor, either, now that he had noticed it. Something was definitely up. Had Yuuri told them how miserably he had been acting these days? 

The excuse seemed to work, though. Victor watched some of their friends nod and ‘ah’. Georgi turned to Chris expectantly and Chris just grinned, tightening the arm that was thrown around Yuuri’s shoulder and bringing him in closer. 

“No. I do mean ‘cherry’ as in virginal. He just seems like such a virgin.” 

That had their entire table erupting in peals of laughter while Yuuri screamed out an embarrassed ‘Chris!’ 

It made Victor smile, too. It was just too adorable. 

Soon enough, nobody was paying attention to Victor, and his strange outburst was forgotten. Victor was free to lose himself in his pointless wanderings again. His gaze clouded over soon enough, trained on the table but looking at nothing, and so he missed Yuuri’s gaze upon him.

… and it was quite unfortunate too because from that moment everything went downhill. 

… 

He exited the school building with his ears still ringing with his Maths teacher’s rude screaming. As high school teachers are wont to, the man didn’t even give Victor a chance to explain himself before tearing into him for something that wasn’t even his fault. In front of everyone at that.

Victor drove home with gritted teeth and narrowed eyes, too mad to so much as plug in his already dead mobile phone to charge. Naturally then, when his mood was fouler than he could ever remember it being before, his mother decided to have a tantrum. 

Victor cursed himself for not being used to it, for still letting her waspish taunting affect him, as though he was a child. He tried to tune her out, but she didn’t seem to like that, barging into his room behind him. It must have been Dimitri who pissed her off, Victor realized. Katia was only like this with him when it was his father who had done something to her. 

He didn’t bother arguing back. It never led to anything but more screaming than Victor was able to handle. Of course, she did manage to make him late for practice which only meant he was in for more scolding from yet another adult who didn’t know shit.

Victor raced back to school, breaking nearly every speeding law in the book, unable to believe he hadn’t been stopped once. He still reached twenty minutes into their time slot. 

Sitting in the car, with frustration boiling in his nerves, Victor nearly punched his steering wheel. This would be the third day in a row that he remained absent, but Victor couldn’t find it in him to go to practice now. He absolutely couldn’t take Yakov’s bullshit. Plus, he was pretty sure if anybody yelled at him again, he just might try to throttle them.

He needed to calm down, logically he knew that but the active part of his brain had decided to shut off for once, having handed over the reigns to the animalistic hindbrain that didn’t really care about consequences as much as it cared about pounding a hole through a wall. Victor was seeing red, which was an unusual feeling for him. His frustration was usually quiet and his anger cold and biting, even at its highest, but this… this sheer, blinding rage he found himself ill-equipped to deal with and without a thought, he was heading towards the most attractive target he could pinpoint in his brain just then, the one who had started all this.  

Yuuri’s dance practice technically ended before the hockey even started but Yuuri liked to stay and practice longer. He was allowed the use of the dance hall because Minako, the instructor, was so fond of him, Victor knew. 

If he was there, he’d be alone. If he wasn’t there then Victor knew his dorm number, too. 

Victor could feel his heartbeat pick up with every step he took down the hallway, his entire body tense with apprehension. As soon as he locked in on his target, all of the day’s sum total of annoyances pooled into the irrational sense of betrayal Yuuri’s coming out had first invoked in Victor. He was too far gone, however, to keep his instincts from fanning the flames. Tiny little recollections pinched and pulled at his patience, Chris’ arm around Yuuri’s shoulders, the look on Yuuri’s face when he ran away from Victor two days ago, the silent fury on Phichit’s face this morning. 

What had Yuuri told him to turn him against Victor? He hadn’t done anything to warrant a look so ugly. 

Outside the dance hall, his steps came to a pause, however. 

Yuuri was on the floor, his legs parted in a perfect split. He must be winding down with some stretches, Victor thought. 

His phone was next to him, a tinny female voice floating out of it, echoing in the empty hall so it was easily audible to Victor, who stood right at the threshold. The person had an accent but not a very thick one. Victor’s strongest guess was that this was Yuuri’s sister, Mari. She did not sound very pleased.

“Well, I just don’t understand. I am pretty sure the brochure I read back then said they hold biannual tryouts. How is it that you happened to miss the first by a day and the second just don’t exist?” 

Yuuri’s expression looked pained when he replied: 

“I don’t know what you want me to say, Nii-san. They just don’t. I will try out next year it’s not a big deal.” 

“Yuuri, you moved across continents at 16 to play for that school’s hockey team. If this is your anxiety getting the better of you, we can do something about that. You know it’s tight back home. If all you wanted to do was dance, you could do it without all of these extra costs.” 

Victor frowned. Yuuri… came here to play hockey? He had never said that. 

“Look, I am sorry. I will try-out next year. I need to go, now.” 

Except the tryouts hadn’t been canceled. Yuuri had just never shown. 

With a wince, Yuuri hung up the phone call, crumpling on himself a second later as he brought his legs closer to his chest and looped his arms around his knees. He looked so small, so vulnerable, it pissed Victor off. What right did he have to look like that when he was the one lying to everyone about everything? 

Gritting his teeth, Victor barged in, startling Yuuri. When he registered who it was, Yuuri crossed his arms across his chest. 

“You came here for hockey? Interesting. You didn’t tell me that.” 

Yuuri got to his feet but said nothing. His expression was dissatisfying- guarded, not the fight fuel Victor came here looking for. 

“Like you didn’t tell me that you were gay. I would have liked a heads up before I fucking kissed you.” 

Yuuri laughed, loud and exaggerated, mocking Victor. Victor dug his nails deeper into his palms. 

“Look at you, seething like an actual baby, and over that! Newsflash: I am bisexual, not gay and I didn’t know back then, you bloody moron! It’s not like me to hide behind a false identity created to satisfy others. You’ll find that’s you.” 

Beads of sweat rolled down the side of Yuuri’s neck. Victor hadn’t noticed that before. He was panting softly, now, chest rising and falling under the black of the sleeveless top he always wore to dance practice. Victor tore his eyes away. 

“Really? And kissing me did it for you, then? God, you are so fucking desperate.” 

“And that’s the best you’ve got? I knew you were going to be weird about it, I just knew it! You didn’t look all this pissed back then, Vitya.” Yuuri cooed. He was somehow great at making Victor feel ridiculous, he was learning. Maybe this was the wrong move. “What changed?” 

“You’re so bloody exhausting! Everything has to be a thing with you! ‘Bisexual’! We kissed because we were drunk but you had to go and make an entire drama out of it!”

Yuuri took a threatening step closer, and so did Victor. This is stupid, Victor thought but he didn’t take it as a reason to stop. He had known he was edging close to a breakdown but he’d had no idea it’d happen like this. 

Victor had never been an aggressive person before, but Yuuri kept surprising him.

“You obnoxious… twat! You are so irritating, oh my god! What do you want?! What is it to you whatever I come out as?! Why are you here?! You made your feelings pretty clear and I was keeping my distance like you so clearly wanted so why the fuck are you here?!”  

Victor stuttered. He hadn’t wanted Yuuri to keep his distance. 

Except he had. 

His brain was a mess, and the next thought it decided to throw at him was: even while stretched atop his teeth in an ugly sneer, Yuuri’s lips looked very cute up close. 

It had clearly not been long enough without Yuuri for him to have worked his weird feelings for Yuuri out of his system. 

Plus, what could he even say to that? Why did he come here- because he felt angry and wanted to be screamed at by someone he could scream back at? That sounded ridiculous. 

… and it only made him more desperate. 

So, he shoved Yuuri. 

Yuuri gasped, looking disbelieving, which was exactly how Victor felt too. He couldn’t let slip now, though. He growled instead,

“You didn’t once stop to think about how I felt!” 

Because that was it wasn’t it? Nobody ever seemed to be thinking about Victor and when someone finally was, he just had to turn around, and… it felt like a slap to the face. 

“Why is my coming out supposed to make you feel anything at all?! This isn’t about you!” Yuuri answered Victor’s shove with one of his own, harder, angrier. His eyes were dark with anger, jaw clenched so hard it did things to the pit of Victor’s stomach. Victor stumbled, and barely caught himself in time. 

“It is! It is about me! It’s about us! Kissing me made you feel this way!” 

“‘Feel this way!’ I feel nothing!” Yuuri mocked. Victor could feel the sting of angry tears, now. Yuuri was apparently ruthless while angry. “Listen to yourself! You’re a self-important asshole, that’s all! This isn’t about ‘us’, there is no ‘us’! I am who I am and that should mean nothing to you! Now that I am thinking about it, it would be best if neither of us talked to each other at all.” 

That nearly made Victor’s heart stop. It wasn’t so bad, surely. Everybody fought with their friends sometimes! But as always, Yuuri had to make it into something bigger than it was, of course!

He grabbed Yuuri by the shoulders before he could realize he had even reached out. Yuuri started squirming almost immediately, trying to get Victor to release him. He would have slipped out, too if Victor hadn’t slammed him against the giant mirror.

Yuuri winced in pain and that made guilt bloom in Victor’s stomach. A brand new emotion had decided to join the already confused fray though, and it was called fear. 

Had he really gone too far? Was Yuuri never going to talk to him again? 

He needed to hold Yuuri right here till he could rid him of this ridiculous idea. He didn’t know how it would help, but he knew he couldn’t let go of him then. 

“Let go of me what are you doing!” It wasn’t a question. Also, if Yuuri didn’t lower his volume, someone was going to come and find them. 

Even though Yuuri wasn’t all that shorter, he was significantly thinner than Victor and crowded against the wall like this, he looked especially vulnerable despite the furious expression on his face. It knocked the breath out of Victor, till he could no longer tell where he ended and Yuuri’s body began.

There is no ‘us’, he had said, and yet that was a lie, wasn’t it? 

Even though Victor wasn’t gay, he knew something was there between the two of them. He could sense it and no matter what might have caused it (confusion, frustration, whatever), it was very real. How could Yuuri deny it? 

Yuuri had stopped squirming now, instead choosing to glare at Victor defiantly. Victor couldn’t be sure of what his own face looked like, but he could tell some of the blinding rage had melted away and it must have been his easier expression that got Yuuri to calm down somewhat.

Yuuri, sweaty, panting, furious Yuuri, someone who looked nothing like the smiley, shy, button-nosed Yuuri Victor had grown to adore, and yet he did. They had the same warm brown eyes, the same flushed cheeks, the same little chin, not very prominent and prone to wobbling when Yuuri was tense. 

Victor felt a terrible fondness well up in his chest. 

Really, how could Yuuri say who he was should mean nothing to Victor when the mere thought of him made Victor feel all hot and cottony in weird places?

“Are you ever going to let me go?” Yuuri barked, and Victor tightened his hold on the other boy, his tone only making Victor more indignant. 

It had been far too long. He realized he had missed Yuuri.

He couldn’t really tell you why what happened next, happened, but before he knew it, Victor was surging closer, lips firmly clamped on Yuuri’s. Yuuri melted against him immediately, almost instinctively, and answered Victor’s rough mouth with gentle pressure from his own. 

That was enough to break the spell. Victor pulled away, jumping apart from Yuuri as if he had been stung, not kissed. His eyes were wide, and he could feel his heart threatening to give out on him. 

… and Yuuri…

Yuuri didn’t look any different than he did seconds ago, his expression still furious. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Go ahead,” his tone was deceptively calm given how his gaze was still blazing with anger. “If you think very, very hard I am certain you’ll find a way to make that into my fault, too.” 

He shoved Victor away and stormed out. 

Chapter Text

Yuuri had felt his heart seize up at the awful, awful expression on Victor’s face when he came out to them during lunch hour, but he had stupidly allowed himself to hope the situation was still salvageable. So, he had spent the last hour locked in a washroom stall trying to get himself to calm down and not give in to the anxiety spiral sitting at the edge of his consciousness. He knew Victor, after all. 

He had hoped Victor would have worked himself out of whatever weird mood he was in when he went to talk to him after school ended, but the man had leveled him with a look so… hateful that Yuuri was left with no option but to turn tail and run away. For about an hour, he had worried his nails and wondered what the fuck to do but by the time he went to bed that night, he had come to the conclusion, that whatever issues Victor had with his sexuality were his own problem and in this one, Yuuri was very firmly not to be blamed. Even his near chronic self-loathing couldn’t truly convince him otherwise. 

Victor was disgusted by him? Fine. Yuuri would never be found dead near him again. 

That wasn’t the only upsetting thing to have happened to him though. The next evening, it had become very apparent that Phichit had not in fact broken up with Seung Gil. That conversation had gone down just as well as it was ever going to. 

Yuuri was hoping to hang out with Phichit after his hockey practice because he felt he was more than entitled to some comforting best friend time given the storm of emotions raising inside his chest (that Victor managed to incite even in his absence). He was very much looking forward to it too, and it must have shown on his face because Phichit looked guiltier than he ever had before as he dressed in preparation for a quiet sneak out. 

His exit from the room hadn’t been all that quiet though when Yuuri learned exactly where it was that he was planning to go. 

Or to be specific, with whom. 

“You told me you broke up with him.” 

“I never said anything like that.” Phichit defended, and that was true. Phichit had shown up alone to lunch the day before and smiled at Yuuri and he and JJ had made their assumptions. He felt stupid, too. Of course, Phichit won’t be looking so happy after having broken up with his boyfriend, shitty or not. 

“In my defense, I did go to break up with him but then he made me see it, Yuuri. He made me see how I was letting my guilt about everything cloud my perception of our relationship and turn him into some unloving monster because I felt that was all I deserved. We never had any other issues! I confessed everything. The signature thing and… and about us. He is willing to give me another chance Yuuri!” 

That all sounded like hot garbage to Yuuri. 

He opened his mouth to tell Phichit as much but Phichit held up his hand. 

“Yuuri I love you, but I don’t want to hear anything about Seung Gil right now. I don’t think you’re qualified to be giving any sort of dating advice either. I really, really want to give this a genuine shot so any and all talk about Seung Gil and my love life is off-limits from now on.” 

Yuuri had stood there, dumbfounded, indignant, and irrationally upset as Phichit left the room. He wondered if he pulled sibling privilege and told Mari to run the damned man over with her car, would she comply? 

Probably yes and so, he did not. 

It only got worse from thereon.

When JJ returned from his date with Isabella that evening, he was on a call with Mila and his shoulders were tense. His entire face was tight with anger but it didn’t seem to be directed at her. He just gave her short and tight ‘yes’ or ‘hmm’s and Yuuri couldn’t figure anything out from that. Once he hung up, JJ immediately entered into a furious text conversation with someone else and brushed Yuuri off when he asked if something was wrong. 

Yuuri knew he had been speaking to Phichit, though because when the Thai boy returned from his own date, he was similarly pissed at god alone knew what, and in the dead of the night, when he thought Yuuri was asleep, he crawled out of his bunk and climbed into JJ’s. There, the two sat whispering together, voices lowered till Yuuri couldn’t make anything out. Yuuri didn’t know when he fell asleep. 

Neither would tell him anything the next day but Yuuri spied them pulling Mila away in between classes and losing themselves in a furious conversation with her. It didn’t look like any of them were mad at each other though, and as someone who loved and appreciated his privacy, Yuuri decided it’d be best to let them be after all. 

Yuuri wasn’t expecting Victor to show up to their lunch table that day, which was a naive thought as any given how their two groups had basically fused together into such a giant gathering that Yuuri barely felt comfortable talking during the entirety of lunch. Seung Gil showed up too, which neither JJ nor Isabella had been expecting and Yuuri returned their baffled looks with a resigned one but did no more. 

Yuuri almost lost it though, at Victor’s tone when he demanded to know why Chris called Yuuri ‘Cherry’. He felt like screaming at that Russian asshole, how it was none of his fucking business what Chris called him, or what anybody else called him but that wasn’t a conversation he was looking to have in public so he bit his tongue and decided to remain true to his promise to himself. 

He couldn’t really leave the table then, without drawing attention to himself but he would talk to JJ and Phichit that evening and tell them he was not comfortable eating with Victor. He would figure something out, anything to avoid being around Victor. His heart hurt too much and he always felt like he was burning with anger whenever he so much as thought about the Russian and when cornered, Yuuri became selfish. If their group dynamic would be butchered then that was on the bigot, anyway. 

Then, said bigot had walked into the dance hall, and really, the shit storm that had been… 

Victor barged into the hall- all righteous fury and cold words, and Yuuri immediately found himself down to throw hands. He couldn’t believe Victor had the audacity to be making demands off him when he was the one who had basically abandoned Yuuri because Victor had apparently filed his quota of friends allowed to be gay. 

For Victor to then get into Yuuri’s face about hockey, it sent him hurtling headfirst into the blind, panicked urge to flip the topic. 

The man was saying something about appreciating a heads up about Yuuri’s sexuality before kissing him, and somehow Yuuri couldn’t bite his laughter back. By the way Victor’s expression boiled over, he likely found Yuuri’s amusement offensive but at this point, Yuuri just couldn’t help it anymore. Goading Victor further, and really getting under his skin, seemed to be the only goal worth aiming for and Yuuri was nothing if not a stubborn fucking ass pissed off to all hell, right now. 

“Look at you, seething like an actual baby,” Once he said them, Yuuri noticed the truth behind his words and it only made him laugh harder. “and over that! Newsflash: I am bisexual, not gay and I didn’t know back then, you bloody moron! It’s not like me to hide behind a false identity created to satisfy others. You’ll find that’s you.”

If Victor was taken aback by Yuuri’s sudden willingness to call him names, he masked it well with an irritated curl of his lips. Victor tore his eyes away because apparently, Yuuri wasn’t even worth looking at anymore. 

“Really? And kissing me did it for you, then? God, you are so fucking desperate.”

Victor muttered, and his voice was low enough that Yuuri figured he was probably not meant to hear these particular sentences but, fuck it, he had and he wasn’t feeling very charitable right now. 

“And that’s the best you’ve got?” Yuuri could hear his own voice drop and simmer into a mocking and rude cooing tone that immediately made Victor clench his jaw. Yuuri counted that as a win. 

“I knew you were going to be weird about it, I just knew it! You didn’t look all this pissed back then, Vitya.”

Maybe using that particular nickname was a low blow but Yuuri didn’t think Victor was deserving of any grace just then, nor did he believe himself capable of giving any at the moment. It was as if Victor’s appearance in the dance hall had torn a gash open in his chest and it was bleeding all over Yuuri’s good sense and patience. Later, he would hate himself for not stepping back and talking to Victor like an adult. Later, he would hate himself for goading Victor like an animal, for sinking right down to his level, for being unnecessarily mean. Later, he would think he just might have lit the match that was going to burn the bridges between them and curse himself for it. 

Sadly for Vitya, now was not later. 

Victor’s face exploded with shame and humiliation and Yuuri reveled in the sight. It soothed the bitter burn inside of him and Yuuri dug his fingers deeper into the metaphorical wound. 

“What changed?” He sang out, like a mother talking to her naive, misbehaving child, and really, given his tone he couldn’t blame Victor for exploding, was hoping he would, even. 

“You’re so bloody exhausting! Everything has to be a thing with you! ‘Bisexual’! We kissed because we were drunk but you had to go and make an entire drama out of it!”

Little as the outburst surprised Yuuri, Victor’s actual words did and they punched him somewhere sore. 

Victor thought he was exhausting. Of course, he did. 

Yuuri was exhausting. 

He thought too much and he spoke too little and he never quite knew where he stood with anyone or anything. He was constantly lost inside his own head and he wasn’t the sort of person Victor chose to make friends with. 

Victor was tired of him. 

… and he had grown tired of him before he had even had him. Really. They kissed because they were drunk? Yuuri’s own feelings for Victor seemed like a joke now, but also like a slap to his own face. 

Yuuri exhausted Victor. 

Really, Victor’s angry, mindless jabs were too alike the hellish doubts Yuuri fed himself every night and then wrote off as anxiety. 

It wasn’t anxiety, after all. It had been the truth all along. 

Yuuri seethed and he advanced on Victor, Victor matching him step for step. They came at each other as if they might come to blows but their fists remained bunched by their sides. 

“You obnoxious…” Yuuri suffered for lack of an appropriate term. “… twat! You are so irritating, oh my god! What do you want?! What is it to you whatever I come out as?! Why are you here?! You made your feelings pretty clear and I was keeping my distance like you so clearly wanted so why the fuck are you here?!”

Yuuri wasn’t even sure if he made sense. Gone was him laying perfectly structured jibes to hit Victor where he was weak. He was a pot of frustration, left on the burner for way too long, and now he had hit his boiling point. 

Victor was staring at Yuuri’s lips, his eyes narrow and his expression angry, and suddenly Yuuri wanted to hide. Did he really disgust Victor so much? 

How had he not known? Of course, he did. What else was going to happen? 

When Victor shoved Yuuri, it did take him by surprise. 

He wasn’t expecting Victor to get physical with him. He honestly won’t have been surprised if Victor pulled some ‘no touching you now that you are gay’ drama with him but his hands found Yuuri’s chest with force. 

Admittedly lesser force than Yuuri then used on Victor, but that didn’t matter very much. 

“You didn’t once stop to think about how I felt!” 

Victor’s words sounded like a badly written joke that never made it to its punchline because what the fuck was that even supposed to mean?! Yuuri could feel his brain rotting inside his skull now and it was all Victor’s fault. None of this made sense! How, and more importantly why, were Victor’s feelings supposed to be of any consequence when it came to Yuuri’s sexuality? 

“Why is my coming out supposed to make you feel anything at all?! This isn’t about you!”

If he snarled like an animal when he barked the words out at Victor, then that was his own issue. 

“It is! It is about me! It’s about us! Kissing me made you feel this way!” 

For a second, Yuuri could swear he felt his insides freeze. 

Did Victor somehow know? No, that wasn’t possible. 

What if he did, though? What if Yuuri being bi wasn’t what disgusted Victor but Yuuri as a person was worth so little to him that he exploded when forced to confront the very idea of Yuuri having feelings for him? 

“‘Feel this way!’ I feel nothing!” Yuuri mocked. He could see the tears pooling in Victor’s eyes, and to Yuuri’s eternal shame, at that moment, Victor’s hurt only brought him satisfaction. 

“Listen to yourself! You’re a self-important asshole, that’s all! This isn’t about ‘us’, there is no ‘us’! I am who I am and that should mean nothing to you! Now that I am thinking about it, it would be best if neither of us talked to each other at all.”

… because Yuuri couldn’t see how they would go back from this… this mess. 

His words made Victor’s face shut down though, and suddenly Victor’s expression was a myriad of emotions beyond angry, beyond anything Yuuri could catch and name. Hands found Yuuri’s shoulders, and their grasp was firm as Victor turned and shoved Yuuri against the wall. 

Pain bloomed up Yuuri’s back and he winced. Victor’s eyes melted and suddenly, Yuuri wanted to cry. 

He squirmed against Victor’s hold, mostly to assure Victor that he wasn’t hurt that bad after all. 

“Let go of me what are you doing!” His voice was way louder than it needed to be. 

… and yet, Yuuri knew what Victor was doing. He could read it right in Victor’s eyes even if he couldn’t tell the same. 

Yuuri gulped. 

Victor’s eyes ran over his face, shuttered like they used to be but heavy somehow. There was weight behind the brush of Victor’s gaze as it traveled all over Yuuri’s body and for some weird reason, Yuuri felt he didn’t have a choice but to calm down till Victor found whatever he was looking for. 

He couldn’t stand the look on his face. It seemed all too breakable, even if it wasn’t necessarily sad. 

Desperation, Yuuri would realize later. 

“Are you ever going to let me go?” Yuuri barked, mostly so he could lift that expression from Victor’s face. The intensity of it was making his heart go crazy and his bones feel heavy. 

Anger still was the dominant flavor on his tongue though, and it seemed like a necessity too. He felt like if he were to let go of his fury, he would crumple right there in Victor’s arms and Victor won’t hold him. 

Victor would run away because Yuuri was exhausting and disgusting and all of the things he had always known he was anyway. Why Yuuri allowed stupid shrinks to get in his head and tell him the truth was a mental illness, he couldn’t tell but he couldn’t hide away from it any longer. 

He had known, he had known, he had fucking known and still he had been so bloody stupid. 

He watched Victor swoop, he felt Victor’s mouth on his own. He kissed back too because it was only right to and yet it wasn’t till Victor was pulling away, that Yuuri realized he had just kissed him. 

This is a prank, he thought with horrible certainty. Victor definitely knew about his feelings and he was doing this to make fun of him. Yuuri was so stupid. 

Yuuri glared at Victor, who had jumped away from Yuuri as if Yuuri was a naked flame burning too close to his skin. He had to get out of there, immediately, he knew that. He was going to burst out crying right here, otherwise. 

He decided he would never give Victor that pleasure. 

“Go ahead,” Yuuri’s tone was a lot calmer than he himself felt. “If you think very, very hard I am certain you’ll find a way to make that into my fault, too.”

Then, he was running away.  

By the time Yuuri had exited the building into the grounds, he was running so fast tears were flying off his face. He found it hard to breathe, but he didn’t think he could stop, anyway. 

It was weird how his gaze was steady in front of him and yet he missed her standing in front of the football field fence. 

… and ran smack dab into her. 

There was a loud scream that jarred Yuuri out of his frenzy but it hadn’t been particularly necessary. The pain racing up his back due to being knocked over and landing on his butt would have done the trick. His glasses barely remained on his face and he reached out a hand to steady them.  

“I am sorry!” Yuuri hurriedly turned to the person he had knocked over and felt his breath catch in his throat at the familiar pink cornrows and expressive brown eyes. 

“What the fuck, dude watch where you are going.” Ester thrust out her hand anyway as she clambered back onto her feet. Yuuri was too mortified to take it. 

“I am sorry.” He jumped to his feet and threw himself into a bow. “I should’ve been looking where I was going but I wasn’t. I hope you are not too hurt!”  

God, how did he always manage to present as the most pathetic and helpless guy ever when around her? 

What was she even doing here? 

“Oh, it’s you, Yuuri!” Her voice softened. “It’s fine. I am okay! Where were you going in such a hurry?” 

Yuuri forced a smile on his face. 

“We have to stop meeting like this.” 

Ester’s eyes ran over Yuuri’s face and Yuuri decided he didn’t like the way her gaze softened in sympathy. She decided not to push it, though and replaced her expression with a grin. 

“We literally run into each other every time.” 

Yuuri awkwardly laughed in agreement and Ester nodded her head for lack of anything better to do. 

“Next time, let’s plan it out properly.” 

Yuuri was pulled out of the depths of his despair by that one sentence. A flutter of something rose up in his chest and suddenly it was difficult to look directly at her. 

“Aah, yeah. Let’s.” 

He stroked the back of his head. 

She wanted to hang out with him? 

A second later, Yuuri deflated. She was probably just being courteous. He was being an idiot again. 

“You’re cute, Yuuri. I didn’t get a chance to tell you last time but you’re very cute.” 

It was crazy how volatile and downright fickle emotions were. Where Yuuri felt like his gut was on fire just a few minutes ago, now he was blushing to the tips of his hairline. 

“Can I have your number?” 

Yuuri nodded enthusiastically. He didn’t think he had the sort of composure that would allow him to open his mouth right now and not spit utter nonsense at her. 

She didn’t seem to mind if her amused grin was anything to go by. She held out her phone to him and Yuuri stared stupidly before he realized he was supposed to be punching his number in. 

He did that and she thanked him and he blushed some more, making her erupt into giggles. Just then her phone pinged and she glanced down at it. 

“Okay, Mila is done. I was just here to pick her up.” She shrugged by way of explanation. “I will text you later!” 

“Bye! Drive safe!” 

At least, Yuuri managed to say goodbye without making a proper fool of himself. 

Heart still thundering, but now for different reasons, he broke into a sprint back to his dorm. It didn’t take very long for thoughts of Victor to overtake the smile on his face. 

Stupid Victor. 

Stupid Yuuri for thinking he knew him. 

He clearly knew nothing. He clearly was nothing.

…

Yuuri didn’t give in easily when his roommates asked him what was wrong. He told himself it was only fair, considering how secretive they’d been lately. The real reason may or may not have been that he wasn’t yet ready to recount the entire ordeal to anyone. He couldn’t make himself say the words out loud. 

A distraction came soon enough after dinner, in the form of a text by a cute girl with poetically dark eyes and half an inch on Yuuri that he somehow hadn’t noticed before.

‘Jace said it’s very Wattpad story-like. The way we keep knocking each other over.’ 

That pulled a begrudging smile out of Yuuri. 

‘To be fair, the first time I was the only one down.’

‘Hmm? If it bothers you so much, I’ll let you hold me down whenever you want.’ 

Yuuri felt his face redden. 

Was this innuendo? It was, wasn’t it? How was she this direct?!

He kind of liked it though. 

Through all of these years Yuuri had figured one thing out about his dating life and that was that he would rather be the one being pursued than do the pursuing. He always got too caught up in his head, wondering how much was too much. He needed someone direct and confident and that was primarily the sort of girls he had been attracted to. 

Not a lot of girls like that were attracted to him though. Almost all of the girls he had tried dating were the sort who would rather wait for their partner to make a move and Yuuri just wasn’t the sort of person who would take the initiative. 

Mari called him a little romantic once, wanting to be wooed and hit on. It was embarrassing but it was true. 

Which wasn’t to say Yuuri was hot and cold when it came to reciprocation. He worked a lot better with naked adoration so he could mirror it right back without feeling foolish. Grinning, he typed his reply in:

‘I look forward to that.’ 

‘Okay, white pasta or red. P.S. the future of this friendship depends on your answer.”

Ester replied. 

Yuuri’s stomach had erupted in butterflies again, and it was a distraction more than welcome. He was glad he had met her, glad he had given her his number. Mindless flirting with someone pretty was just what he needed to drown out his pesky crush on that heartless fuck. 

…

The next morning, Victor sought Yuuri out and he looked positively tortured. 

The man seemed to be extremely fond of pinning Yuuri to large, flat surfaces because that morning before class, Yuuri found himself cornered in the cradle of Victor’s arms against his locker. Their bodies weren’t touching, but the position sent Yuuri reeling, memories of the night before clear in his mind. It must have been the same for Victor, for he was blushing. Yuuri barely bit down his own furious flush and glared at Victor. 

“Back up, Vitya. You might catch the gay.” 

Victor winced. 

“I am so, so sorry, Yuuri. I was a total ass yesterday.” 

Clearly, something inside Yuuri had been expecting an apology, for he didn’t feel all that surprised by Victor’s sudden change of heart. 

He didn’t grace Victor with a reply, simply crossing his arms in front of his chest. If his mouth twisted as if Victor’s words were something sour upon his tongue, then that was that. 

“I was pissed.” Victor rushed to explain as if Yuuri would run away if he didn’t get all of his words out fast enough. Yuuri would have snorted in amusement if that wasn’t exactly what he had done the day before. 

“Not at you! A lot of dumb things happened yesterday and I took it all out on you, you know, like an idiot.”

Yuuri kept staring. Victor gulped, his eyes growing brighter with the intense shade of mild panic now upon them. 

“Is that all?” 

Yuuri ground out. 

Victor opened his mouth but then squeezed his eyes shut for all of a second, gulping. He nodded and pulled away. 

Without a word more, Yuuri left. 

…

He should’ve known Victor won’t give up. 

They didn’t have any classes together, courtesy of Victor being a year above him, and yet in every single class Yuuri attended a note was passed on to him by some random classmate he had never spoken to before. 

They all contained the same words- I am sorry. -<3 Victor

It was annoying the first two times it happened, and then Yuuri began to melt. 

Which he hated himself for. 

Victor had said some vile things and Yuuri would be such a hypocrite if he forgave him after telling him they were better off without each other. 

Except, while he had believed the truth of those words when he said them, Victor’s absence was already starting to sting. 

Yuuri’s traitorous heart rushed every time those familiar notes found their way into his hands and he tried to remind himself even if Victor was begging his forgiveness it was because he wanted his friend back. It was nothing more. He smiled, nevertheless. 

Then, he whacked himself in the head for doing so. 

His teacher caught the gesture and glared and somehow that only made the entire thing sweeter. 

During lunch hour, Victor walked up to Yuuri before he could make his way to any table, their usual or a new one. 

He was fully convinced a day ago that he was going to sit away from Victor even if he had to sit by himself, but after the events of the evening before, he couldn’t justify sacrificing his friend group for the comfort of that bastard. If Victor wanted to stay away from Yuuri, then he could leave. 

Victor bumped Yuuri’s shoulder and smiled. Then, he offered Yuuri a juice box that he had neglected to pick up for himself. Yuuri rolled his eyes and marched away. 

It was cute, though. 

All through lunch Phichit and JJ kept glaring at Victor. 

Yuuri had noticed it the day before, too but he had figured it was because they had noticed Victor was being weird around Yuuri and were trying to show their support of him but the fury on Phichit’s face at least was much too pronounced for it to be just that. Yuuri frowned but decided to bite his tongue. He wasn’t going to spend any more time begging anyone to let go of their secrets. They were welcome to them. 

It was towards the end of school that Victor approached him again. Somehow he had managed to acquire a whole basket of chocolates in the meantime and it was enough of an improvement to the juice box, that Yuuri stuttered in his path and stared at Victor with a degree of confusion on his face.

Victor grinned at Yuuri, a sheepish, sweet little thing and Yuuri was so weak. 

He stared at Victor and then he looked down at the basket in his hands, and then he glanced at the students milling about them in the hallway. Yuuri wanted to hug Victor. 

… but he also didn’t think he should make it so easy for him. 

A good number of hours had passed though, and Yuuri was aware he had given as good as he got. Ester had been so sweet and funny the night before. It had all successfully blurred out of focus, the hurt Victor had made him feel. 

With flaming cheeks, he snatched the basket out of Victor’s hands and marched out of the school building, Victor’s victorious little whoop making his heart flip around in his chest. 

He hadn't forgiven him yet, and they both knew that but it would be stupid to not take the gesture for what it meant. 

That night, Yuuri was so giddy he forgot all about the weird tension he had been feeling towards Phichit and JJ. He handed them chocolate from Victor’s basket and told them all about Ester. A few minutes of frantic cyber-stalking later, they both enthusiastically agreed she was a more than worthy match for Yuuri and toasted him pulling someone like her with Skittles and coffee. Yuuri tried to explain that technically he had been the one that was pulled but they didn’t seem to care. 

The conversation wound down then, as it does and Yuuri finally told them where the chocolate had come from. It was at that point, that JJ’s face tightened and Phichit gave Yuuri a pitying glance. 

Then, they told him what Mila, amidst hysterical apologies, had finally told them she had witnessed the night of the party.

Yuuri had forgotten all about his mysterious hookup by this point but that wasn’t to be so for very long as Phichit and JJ confessed their secret. 

Yuuri dialed Mila’s number as he rushed out of his room and clambered onto the terrace. When she picked up, she sounded nervous. 

“Why didn’t you tell me? I asked you and you lied to me.” -was the first thing he said.

“Yuuri I am sorry but you must understand Victor is my friend. When I saw him sneaking out of my parents’ bedroom I thought he just crashed there. I was too hungover to bother checking the room. Ester told me later that she found you there and about hickeys a mysterious someone who you couldn’t remember gave to you. I thought Victor would fess up but he didn’t. I didn’t think it was my place. I mean, is he even out?! I knew this was so shitty to you and I know I prioritized him, I just- ugh, I have no explanation. I am sorry. I was just looking out for him.”  

He listened to her bumbling explanation with patience he was surprised to be able to drudge up. 

“What made you tell JJ then?” Yuuri questioned. He wasn’t really mad at Mila, anyway. Even his closest friends were keeping secrets from him, how could he say a word to her?

“JJ told me he didn’t react very well when you came out and I was worried about you and about him and it just slipped out.”  

“So you never intended on telling the truth?” 

Mila didn’t reply for so long he checked to see if she had hung up. 

“No, I never did.” 

Yuuri snorted. 

“Thanks for being honest or whatever.” 

He hung up before she could get a word in sideways. 

As it sank in, truly sank in, Yuuri felt his heart leap in his chest and then cower with humiliation. He felt cheated, angered, and a thousand other things too. Begrudgingly, he had to admit to himself Victor’s recent behavior made a hell of a lot of sense in light of this new revelation. 

Yuuri had told himself he was done with Victor. He had, and for the most part, he was.

Except, Victor wasn't being an asshole all for the sake of being an asshole, was he? He was probably confused and alone and really, their highly uncharacteristic angry brawl and everything said in the middle of it aside, Yuuri did know Victor. 

The same old Victor who formed hearts with his lips when he grinned, and once called War and Peace bedtime reading. The same old Victor who was sweet to everyone because he didn't really seem to know any other way to be and dropped everything at a single call from Yuuri. The same old Victor who made Yuuri feel as if he had never been alive before those gorgeous blue eyes latched on to him and thought piling someone with gifts was a respectable course to take while trying to win forgiveness.

The same old Victor who messed up more than anyone, but always, always, had the best of intentions at heart.

Yuuri knew then, as the hurtful twinge of his heart eased a little that he had never really had a choice. It was Victor. Yuuri couldn't stay mad at Victor. Stupid, ridiculous, gorgeous Victor. 

Clearly, something inside Yuuri had known he would forgive him, for he didn’t feel all that surprised by his own change of heart.

Victor Nikiforov was, after all, his Vampire.

Chapter Text

It wasn’t that Victor wasn’t expecting it… but he wasn’t. 

Yuuri had taken the chocolate basket and if Victor was honest with himself, he didn’t know what to make of it. He was far from forgiven, that was obvious from the expression on Yuuri’s face and he had thought this would require more groveling. He had prepared himself appropriately, too. 

(Which was to mean that he had bought three new cute notebooks to present Yuuri with since he was very fond of pretty stationery.) 

So, while Victor was prepared for more icy indifference and hopeful for some degree of friendliness, what he got was wildly different from both. 

Namely, an entirely too calculative stare pinned on him from across the hallway as he stood chatting with Georgi a few minutes before the bell for the first period was to ring. Victor tried waving at Yuuri, but the boy only turned away and moved along with the passing crowd, leaving Victor staring behind him with a solitary wrinkle sitting between his brows. 

“Is he mad at you?” Georgi asked, picking the worst time possible to become aware of his surroundings. 

Victor could feel himself plastering a smile on his face, almost instinctively. He wondered what would be the correct answer to give. He did not want Georgi to know what he had done, did not want anyone to know how he’d behaved, but he also didn’t know what he could do to divert the topic. 

“A small fight. I was frustrated and took it all out on him.” Victor decided upon half lies. 

Georgi hummed. 

“That doesn’t sound like you.” 

It had been nothing like him. 

Victor never just ‘blew up’ on people. Even at his worst, Victor wasn’t an aggressive screamer, or someone who’d lose control like that. 

He didn’t want to blame it on Yuuri, and he wasn’t trying to. His lack of control over his own emotions was his problem, much as he couldn’t understand it. It was an undeniable, hard fact, however, that he had never felt so many things, or acted out in desperation like that ever before, with anyone else. 

Then, there was the kiss. Which Victor was trying his hardest to not think about. 

‘“If you think very, very hard I am certain you’ll find a way to make that into my fault, too.”’ 

Yuuri’s words drummed around Victor’s skull and he had spent that entire night twisting himself up in knots over how he’d reacted. He had had no right, he always knew, and yet, by the time he was back home, Victor had realized Yuuri had hit the nail better than he probably intended to in the first place because wasn’t that exactly what Victor was doing, blaming Yuuri for the mess inside his own head? 

He told himself he was just confused and that this had to stop. He was terribly afraid he had lost Yuuri for good and the thought never let him sleep that night. He got up in the morning with his mind made. He was going to deal with his issues by himself, and never again was he going to let himself hurt Yuuri like that. He was going to apologize and beg for Yuuri’s forgiveness for as long as it took because he wasn’t willing to give Yuuri up like that. 

‘Don’t blame him if he doesn’t wanna interact with the raging homophobe anymore.’ Victor caught himself thinking and bit back the urge to cringe. 

He wasn’t homophobic. He was just… he didn’t know what he was. For one, he was apologetic and he figured that was as good a start as any. 

Victor gave Georgi a small shrug as if to say he didn’t have any idea how that came to happen either, which, if he was being honest, he didn’t but he refused to elaborate anymore, and eventually Georgi dropped it with a- ‘I hope you make up.’ 

Victor hoped so, too. 

…

Another undeniable, hard fact was that Yuuri hadn’t left Victor’s mind for a single second since that day in the dance hall. Victor remained wracked with guilt, every little thought somehow a reminder of Yuuri’s torn, hurt, enraged face. For the most part, Victor couldn’t believe he had made Yuuri look like that, feel things like that. All the names he had called the younger boy, dramatic, exhausting, lies peppered in because Yuuri’s fingers were digging too far into his doubts and anxieties. Yuuri had never exhausted Victor. Really, enthralled was a more accurate term. 

He recognized, however, disassociation from the situation wasn’t going to help him salvage it, and so he revisited the argument, again and again inside his head, and always came back to himself just a little breathless and torn. 

Had Yuuri meant it? 

Was he really never going to talk to Victor again? 

It wasn’t that he could say he didn’t know exactly how icy Yuuri could act, but he had certainly underestimated how much it would hurt him. Somehow Yuuri had firmly slotted himself into Victor’s heart and just the idea of separation was enough to bring tears to his eyes. He felt himself gearing for a fight, a thousand frustrated arguments on the tip of his tongue whenever he considered a future in which Yuuri was so mad at him that he refused to forgive him, and yet, he never got to use them because the moment he had Yuuri pinned against the locker, thoughts decided to fly out of his ears and all he could come up with was a desperate-sounding apology, eyes locked on Yuuri’s lips. 

He shook himself once Yuuri left. This was not the time to let his errant libido ruin things. He had to focus. 

When the chocolate basket was accepted, Victor felt his heart swell inside his chest to such an extent that he feared he might burst. That didn’t happen, and the joy tempered slowly, too. He refused to let go of hope, however. He recognized he wasn’t forgiven. 

… but it had to mean that Yuuri was willing to at least consider, right? Which was already more than Victor deserved. He spent the next evening brainstorming ideas for what he could do and finally settled on the cute notebooks. Yuuri loved them, but never counted them as a justified expense and so, never bought anything fancier than plain, ruled ones. Victor spent close to an hour picking out the right ones, surveying every notebook for long enough, (and critically enough) that the employees began giving him the dirtiest of looks. He realized Yuuri would panic and try to return it all if he considered the gifts too expensive, and so, with a pout, he had to return twenty-seven notebooks to their shelves and make do with the three he thought looked best. 

They sat inside his bag for now, neatly wrapped in pastel wrapping paper, because Victor was very much not a heathen, thank you. If Yuuri rejected the notebooks, Victor had purchased another chocolate basket as back-up, and thus armed, he was ready to grovel today. 

Yuuri, however, seemed to have decided he wasn’t to be found. 

Victor couldn’t find him in the hallways, before or after his classes, or at the lunch table. He was too scared of the looks Phichit and JJ kept leveling him with to ask where Yuuri was during lunch hour and so, with a renewed dread in the pit of his stomach, Victor, with leaden footsteps and a frown on his face, made his way to the hostel buildings after school got over. 

He got a junior to go check if Yuuri was in his room, but discreetly. When he received an affirmation, Victor snuck in which was not terribly difficult, considering how everyone was returning to the dorms from class. He knew he would have to move fast, though. He wasn’t going to be cornered in a dorm room by Phichit and JJ. He had a sneaking suspicion he won’t be leaving that situation alive. 

As if a memory from a past life, Victor remembered being furious, blaming Yuuri for Phichit’s anger at him. He shook his head, a comically deep sigh threatening to break out of him. 

Really, what was wrong with him? 

Yuuri was indeed in his room when Victor entered, but he was sitting atop his bed with the heels of his palms digging into his eyes and Victor gulped, wondering if he even had any right to go into the room anymore. It was Yuuri’s space. He shouldn’t have to deal with Victor being there if he didn’t want to. 

He had been invited in willingly, happily, before. Yuuri would serve him coffee and then they would sneak up to the terrace to smoke, like that one evening they had talked, talked for the first time. With a jolt of pain shooting straight into his heart, Victor realized all of that would have to end if Yuuri decided he won't forgive Victor. 

Looking at the boy’s hunched form, Victor couldn’t blame him for a single second. He had hurt Yuuri, his Yuuri. 

The very thought had been unimaginable a few weeks ago, and now they were in shambles. 

“Are you just going to stand there?” Yuuri muttered, even though he hadn’t looked up. 

Caught off guard, Victor remained stuck in the doorway for a couple of seconds more. 

“I know your shoes.” Yuuri shrugged when he straightened, a hand dipping into his pocket and pulling out his phone, and eyes now glued on to Victor’s face. His own was carefully blank, and that hurt something bitter deep inside Victor’s chest. 

Victor entered the room, watching Yuuri fire off a quick text to someone before he turned his full attention to Victor, an expectant look in his eyes. 

“I hope you didn’t come all the way here simply to stare at me.” Yuuri nodded at JJ’s bed, indicating for Victor to sit. Victor, ready to battle a bull to win Yuuri’s approval just them, quickly sat his ass down. 

“I am sorry if I am disturbing you.” He began, like an idiot, because not only was Yuuri very pointedly not doing anything, but they also weren’t formal acquaintances and Victor had never heard of anyone using that phrase outside of such a relationship. 

“You’d be out of my door if I wasn’t willing to listen to you, Victor.” 

Victor stilled at that, wondering if he should be feeling happy or hopeful. Judging by Yuuri’s expression, it would be futile. The boy still had his guard up, face devoid of a single expression. Victor found he couldn’t look at it for very long. A strange sort of squirmy sensation set upon him then and Victor felt the need to wiggle in his seat. This very much felt like an interrogation and Victor didn’t know what to do. 

He dived for his bag, quickly pulling out his wrapped presents instead. 

That got Yuuri’s eyebrow twitching, and eagerly, Victor handed the notebooks to Yuuri, who looked exasperated at himself for being surprised. They remained quiet, as Yuuri artlessly tore into the wrapping paper, nearly making Victor wince, and pulled out his gift. 

Yuuri’s face softened a little, and Victor’s silly heart began fluttering around in his chest. He felt a manic grin threatening to spread on his face, more nervous than happy and Victor stomped on his own foot. 

… which Yuuri noticed because of course, he did. 

Yuuri gave him an amused look, brow quirked a little and the corner of his mouth lifted but slightly. Victor tried for a sheepish grin, found it was hard to manoeuver the muscles in his face because of the rush of giddiness in his heart, and decided to nod at Yuuri like an idiot. 

Yuuri shook his head at that but he was definitely grinning now. 

Victor decided to take that as encouragement. He walked closer to Yuuri and was glad to see that the other boy neither backed away nor stopped him as he came to kneel in front of him, hands on Yuuri’s knees because it only felt natural to want to hold on to some part of him.

The most important thing was, Yuuri let him. 

“I am sorry, Yuuri.” 

He truly felt like a broken record, but he had nothing else to say. No excuses to make in his own defense cause they all made him sound worse. He couldn’t explain things he didn’t understand. All he could do was try to make Yuuri see- that person then, wasn’t who Victor was. 

… because if Yuuri believed it was, then that just meant a part of him believed the things Victor had said about him. 

He couldn’t stand the thought of that. 

“You said you were angry at other things and took it all out on me?” Yuuri said, face still impassive. 

Victor nodded. While it was the truth, it still rang hollow. 

A part of him had been mad at Yuuri too, and for shit that made no sense. 

“But that was later. Why did you make that face at me in the hallway the day I came out?”  

Victor blinked. 

He hadn’t been expecting that. 

“I don’t even know what sort of a face I made, Yuuri.” 

Yuuri’s own expression twisted at that and Victor almost winced. He had wanted for Yuuri to stop looking so emotionless but he hadn’t wanted him to look this anguished either. 

“You looked at me like you fucking hated me, Victor. You’re here apologizing for blowing up on me, saying you did it cause you were mad at others, and yet are we just going to ignore how easily everything you said to me came to you?” 

Victor could feel his brain swimming inside his skull, Yuuri’s words not registering in any manner more complicated than a simple panic-inducing flurry. 

“You’ve thought those things. You’ve thought them about me and I know it!” Yuuri shook his head, taking a deep breath. Victor almost reached out to hold the side of his face, before he remembered that would only make things worse. 

“So are you going to explain why that fucking happened, Victor? Are you finally going to be honest with me?” 

He shouldn’t have, but gazing at Yuuri’s crumpled but furious expression, Victor knew it with a near startling clarity. It was like the hurt in Yuuri’s voice was a shove against his chest and Victor fell through a web of memories he had been trying so hard to suppress, landing with his back against the door of Mila’s parents’ bedroom where his own body had been crowding a giggling Yuuri. He was back in that night, in Yuuri’s arms, and he didn’t know where to go from there. 

Why had that happened?!

It was a question Victor had successfully avoided for longer than should’ve been possible. Even after that thing in the dance hall, he had managed to hold the thought at bay, the way he had devoured Yuuri that night like there was nothing else he would ever need in life. 

His entire body had thrummed with a need so vast and visceral Victor still couldn’t comprehend the mere idea of denying himself. The taste of Yuuri’s lips (his neck, his cheeks, the soft lobe of his tiny ears) was suddenly fresh on his tongue and Victor could do nothing but stare at Yuuri, eyes wide and mouth open. 

He could feel his thoughts becoming jumbled, contorted in meaning, and confused in their flow. He didn’t truly know anything except how it had felt to hold Yuuri that night, and he didn’t think how he could answer any of Yuuri’s questions like this, with his head feeling like it had been screwed on backward. 

Yuuri’s own face softened a little at the clear distress in Victor’s eyes. His hands twitched where they lay bunched in the bedsheet, and when Victor caught sight of that, he decided to let his gaze zero in on Yuuri’s fingers because it was easier than looking at the other boy’s face.

“We made out before.” He finally croaked out, voice sounding so rough he could barely believe it was his own. 

It seemed to be the straw that broke the camel’s back and with a shaky sigh, Yuuri brought his hand to cover Victor’s where it was not clutching at his knee. 

“A lot.” Victor elaborated when Yuuri’s expectant expression did not falter, and he did not move to say anything. 

“I know that Victor. At Mila’s party. You were the Vampire. Found out yesterday actually.” 

Victor wanted to sink through the floor right there and then, and bury himself into the ground. 

“I just- I am sorry. For lying.” Victor lifted his gaze up to meet Yuuri’s, for it was very important that Yuuri read the truth of what he was about to say in his eyes. 

“I don’t like men like that, Yuuri.” 

Yuuri simply nodded, not contesting Victor’s words at all. Victor felt his entire frame loosen up all of sudden, glad at the absence of accusations he had been unconsciously prepared to battle away. 

What accusations? 

He couldn’t tell. He was just glad they weren’t there. 

Yuuri gave his hand a squeeze, and it was as if a dam broke open inside Victor’s chest, spilling confession after confession into the dark of Yuuri’s eyes. 

“I don’t know what you do to me! My stomach starts feeling all weird and it’s like I can never control myself around you. Everything is… like, technicolor, you know? Too bright. I don’t know what you do to me. I don’t actually like boys. It’s just you. I feel weird around you.

“It was after that game, the fucking silly game. It should’ve been just that, a dumb dare but once you kissed me I couldn’t stop thinking about it and I dragged you into the room when I saw it was empty. You didn’t complain and once I saw I could have it, I just didn’t stop.” 

Yuuri’s face twisted, something more complicated than Victor was currently equipped to deal with or care about rushing across his eyes. 

“I thought I was too pent up. I thought it was the booze but then, well, you know what happened in the dance hall. I can’t explain that one if I tried but when you said we needed to go our separate ways. I… I don’t know how else to put it Yuuri but I was convinced for a second there that I would do anything in the world to keep that from happening.” 

Victor felt his throat clogging up with words too clunky to actually fall past his lips. He didn’t think he had gotten his point across, didn’t believe he could. Surely, Yuuri won’t understand. Victor would look even stupider than he already did. 

Victor felt a hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently and he saw Yuuri was now looking down into his own lap, eyes flitting about in an apparent panic. Victor felt a strange aching start in the tips of his fingers, where they were in contact with Yuuri’s and he flipped his hand around to stroke Yuuri’s knuckles properly. 

“Please” he bit his lip. “I didn’t mean for things to get like this. Please.” 

He didn’t know what he was pleading for. 

Yuuri sighed, a shaky, full-bodied exhale that had his shoulders quivering. 

“You shouldn’t have lied to me, Victor.” 

Victor closed his eyes, taking Yuuri’s words for the absolute truth they were, and yet he couldn’t help it, the rush of defensiveness they brought forth. 

“I know. I messed up and I get it if you don’t believe me but I didn’t mean to. I walked in there ready to talk things through with you but then you didn’t remember anything and I just chickened out. I shouldn’t have. You had a right to know but I panicked, Yuuri. I just went with it. I couldn’t even bring myself to regret it, I was so relieved.” 

“Relieved?” Yuuri frowned. 

“I didn’t want anything to change. I didn’t want how you looked at me to change.” 

“Like how you look at me changed after I came out?” 

Victor closed his mouth. 

“I deserved that.” He said after a beat. “All I can say is I am sorry, Yuuri. That’s it. That’s all I have. I messed up and I am sorry.” 

“No Victor, I am not trying to guilt-trip you. I am seriously upset here. How you look at me immediately changed after I came out. You were pissed at me for not being straight and I don’t know how to get past that.” 

Victor fumbled for a way to explain it to Yuuri in a manner that made sense and came up with nothing, painfully aware that what he was about to say likely was utter nonsense after all. 

“I wasn’t mad at you for coming out, Yuuri. I was mad that you came out after we made out because I couldn’t get past what that said about me.” 

Yuuri shook his head, tearing his eyes away from Victor’s face and pinning them to the wall behind him instead. 

“Would it be so bad?” His voice quaked a little but whatever Yuuri meant to say, he seemed to think better of, and then abandon, for he shook his head again, and then one more time like he couldn’t decide what else to do with himself. 

“I just don’t know what to say. You lied to me for weeks and said some really fucked up things, Victor. Like if I irritate you so much you should just…-”

“You don’t!” Victor refused to hear that sentence be completed. 

“You don’t irritate me. You’re the best thing in my life right now, you’re my best fucking friend. I love spending time with you. You’re just downright perfect, unbelievably perfect. None of what I said I meant, Yuuri, not for a single second. I was bitter, I was looking for a fight.” His voice lowered by itself, mumbling out the last part. 

“I was just trying to hurt you.” 

Yuuri snorted. 

“Finally something I can relate with.” 

Slowly, Yuuri’s eyes found Victor’s eyes again. 

“I am sorry for the things I said, too. I was mean to you.” 

Victor lifted one shoulder in a half-hearted shrug. 

“It wasn’t like you were wrong. And anyway, I was so caught up in feeling like shit about the way I behaved I forgot to really take your words to heart.” 

“I still am. Sorry, that is.” 

“You shouldn’t be.” Victor insisted. “I came at you out of nowhere. You had the right to call me out on my bullshit.” 

“Have I ever told you how adorable you sound when you cuss?” Yuuri blurted out all of a sudden. Victor gave him a confused glance and Yuuri’s hands flew to his mouth, his eyes squinting down at the tip of his nose as if he couldn’t quite believe what he had said himself. 

Victor couldn’t help but smile. 

“It’s just! You sound like you’re not used to the words, maybe because you rarely cuss around other people.” Yuuri said when he finally removed his hands from his mouth, cheeks aflame. Victor couldn’t help but find that cute. 

As suddenly as it had taken over him, Yuuri’s embarrassment receded, and he was back to business again, giving Victor a hard look that had him shivering but in a confusingly pleasant way. The little ‘cute when you cuss’ moment had leeched the conversation of its tension, and Victor, loyal to his recent hyper-fixation, couldn’t look away from Yuuri’s mouth. 

“You said kissing you made me feel this way.” 

Victor couldn’t keep himself from cringing this time. 

“I definitely didn’t mean that.” 

“Good. Because it didn’t. I have always felt this way, Victor. I guess I took this long to notice because I have always been into women. And that’s like society’s default so I never thought to question anything. It’s clear to me now,” Yuuri pinned Victor in his place with a look “That I have always felt this way. Kissing you didn’t cause this.” 

Victor nodded. 

“I get that. Hundred percent.” 

“Plus, I made sure, you know. I… kissed somebody else too. Another boy. To really make sure because well, it’s a little confusing and out of nowhere to…-”

Yuuri was still talking. Victor was barely listening. 

He gulped and forced himself to nod, trying his hardest to tune back into the conversation and stop spinning ‘I kissed somebody else’ round and round in his head. 

“I get that,” Victor responded to whatever Yuuri had said. 

Of course, he kissed somebody else and he’d be kissing lots of somebody elses and it was going to be none of Victor’s business at all. 

“I am happy for you. That you figured things out. Better late than never.” He answered half-heartedly. 

Yuuri snickered. 

“You sound like one of those ‘don’t overspeed’ road signs.” 

Victor tried to laugh along with him. 

Yuuri noticed his lack of amusement though and squeezed Victor’s hand again. 

“Look, you can stop looking like that. You were going through a bit, clearly. People make mistakes all the time. As long as we’re clear that none of this changes who I am, and that you won’t treat me otherwise.” 

Victor nodded enthusiastically, seeing this for the chance it was, and gave Yuuri a small grin. 

“Okay then, make it up to me.” Yuuri shoved Victor’s shoulder a little and Victor felt something leap up in his chest. 

(It felt a lot like his heart, beating fast and crazy.) 

Victor nodded eagerly. 

“I will. However you want me to, just whatever, name it! I’ll do it. Oh, thank you, Yuuri. Seriously, thank you so much,” he lifted Yuuri’s hands in his and shook them around like a little child. “You won’t regret this. I literally- I am never going to be an ass to you again. Ever.” 

“If you are I will never talk to you again. I am serious Victor. You ever make me feel like I exhaust you, or like I am too much for you and I am out of your life. For good.”

Victor’s first instinct was to nod his head like an idiot and assure Yuuri nothing like this would ever happen again, but then he caught sight of the tears pooling in Yuuri’s eyes. 

His heart squeezed inside his chest, and he thought he might as well send himself to jail now. 

“You have no idea how awful I felt.” Yuuri lifted his fists to his eyes, rubbing at them furiously, trying to hide the moisture there. “I never want to feel like that again. Like you are just putting up with me. You told me, you fucking told me you’d hold the shovel. That was you! And then you told me I exhausted you. If I do, you just have to say it and I won’t but…-”

He couldn’t help it then and he threw himself at the other boy, fingers tangling with Yuuri’s hair. Yuuri’s own arms came up around Victor’s neck, immediately clinging on to him. Victor relaxed a little. At least he still had this. 

“You don’t exhaust me. You excite me. Nothing but you excite me, Yuuri. I am an asshole and I lied through my teeth. Please, believe me. I didn’t mean it.” 

“Never say that again” Yuuri mumbled against Victor’s shoulder. Victor crowded Yuuri’s body closer to his own, molding their fronts together, close as they would go.

Childishly, he thought if he held him close enough Yuuri could feel the honesty of his intentions in his body. 

“I won’t. I swear.” 

It wasn’t going to be a promise very difficult to keep either. Now that he had seen Yuuri Katsuki cry because of him, Victor knew he would go to hell to avoid an encore. 

…

They found themselves holed up in Yuuri’s dorm that evening after Victor’s practice ended, eating chicken fried and glazed with lemon, which was definitely too fattening to be on either of their diet plans and talking about nothing in particular. It was a scene all too familiar, comfortable, and that was when the Best Idea Ever occurred to Victor. 

“So you came here for hockey?” Victor asked Yuuri. 

Gulping down a mouthful of chicken, Yuuri nodded. 

“But then I saw the team playing and… you are all so far above me in skill. I didn’t want to make a fool of myself out there. I’ll just try out next year.” 

“That’s too far, Yuuri!” Victor groaned in complaint. “I want to play with you now!” 

Yuuri gave Victor an amused glance. 

“You have never even seen me play.” 

“Show me, then.” Victor declared, and “Or better yet, how about I coach you?"

Victor's face brightened up as he figured out he quite liked that idea.

"I’ll make Yakov let you try out at the end of the month. And you’re going to pass.” 

Victor watched Yuuri’s jaw drop in surprise. A strange, half-strangled noise escaped Yuuri’s mouth. 

Victor winked. Yuuri screamed.  

Chapter Text

“Keep going at it like that and I am going to start thinking those legs of yours are thick just for show, Yuuri.” 

Yuuri panted, resting his palms on his knees and coming to a stop in the middle of the field in order to catch his breath. He remained there, despite his ‘coach’ telling him to start moving it. Really, it was easy to bark commands when you hadn’t moved a single muscle since you got to the field, and Yuuri wasn’t feeling very sympathetic towards Victor when his lungs seemed to be on fire and the other boy couldn’t be bothered to give a shit. 

“Oh, do you need a break?” Victor asked, index finger resting on his lip as if the idea had just occurred to him. Yuuri rolled his eyes and flopped down on the grass, chest still heaving and eyes squeezed shut. The hockey stick rolled out of his sweat-slick palms and mindlessly, Yuuri started clenching and unclenching his hand to get it to stop feeling so entirely stiff.  

“Here,” Yuuri opened his eyes to see Victor holding a water bottle out to him. He desperately wanted water just then but he was sure actually lifting his arms to reach out for the bottle was beyond his physical capabilities, no matter how much Victor enjoyed harping on about his ‘legendary stamina’. That stamina was nowhere to be seen for now. He had been squeezed dry of every bit of strength he had, and he almost considered making Victor fetch JJ so between the two of them, they could carry Yuuri back to the dorm.

With a soft chuckle, Victor dropped down into the grass next to Yuuri. Yuuri glared up at him but he only threaded his fingers into Yuuri’s hair, bringing his head to lay on his knee. 

“Open up.” He instructed and without thinking too much about it, Yuuri opened his mouth. 

“Tap me once when you want me to stop pouring.” 

Yuuri nodded and slowly, Victor tipped small amounts of water into his mouth, stopping every three seconds to allow Yuuri to swallow properly. 

“You’re really tired, huh.” 

Yuuri wanted to punch the other boy, honestly, truly did, if only to wipe that irritating smirk from his face but he had no strength for it so he continued to glare. 

“In case you have forgotten I have dance practices for two hours every day before your little drills.” 

It was not that Yuuri was against training. He liked hockey, and he had missed playing it enough that his face erupted in a grin when his hand tightened around the stick for the first time after so long. However, Victor had a very strange approach to coaching which involved telling Yuuri to ‘take it from the top’ again and again and again. 

Except they never moved past the basics. 

Running with the ball, dodging, snatching and the most basic of positions to try to score a goal from, construed all of what they had tried so far and Yuuri would almost be offended at Victor’s apparent assumption that Yuuri knew nothing about hockey and had to be coached from the very beginning if Victor didn’t speckle each training session with a confusing combination of effluent praise and stuff like ‘your thighs are thick just for show’. 

All in all, Yuuri had no idea what to make of their training sessions. Victor was doing a great job of pretending to have some sort of an idea as to what they were supposed to be doing though because from where Yuuri was sitting it didn’t look like Victor knew the first thing about coaching. 

“That reminds me, you still haven’t salsa-d for me.” 

“Never say that word again.” 

…

“Oh, oh, and tell him how horrendous that washed-up shade of orange looked on him too. Seriously, I was ready to puke when I first saw him wearing that shirt.” 

“Yeah, it fucking sucked, Yuuri. You have four bloody eyes, how did you miss that?” 

Phichit giggled from where he was sitting on Yuuri’s legs to help relieve some of the aches in them. He and Ester had been ‘chatting’ together for a handful of minutes now, even though Yuuri had the screen of his phone firmly turned towards his own face. She was dressed in a red, off the shoulders, body con top tonight, with a tiny little cut in the neckline that had him unable to stop blushing. He absolutely couldn’t let Phichit see that, however, because his best friend was a little too well-versed in Yuuri’s tastes in women’s clothing and Yuuri knew Phichit would never stop teasing him about it. 

“Quit bullying me.” He groaned out, half turning his face to the side and smooshing it into his pillow. Ester simply snickered. 

The coming-out conversation had gone well with her. JJ had insisted it was none of her business, but Yuuri felt the need to tell her anyway. Mostly because they were in the getting to know each other phase, and not telling her about it seemed a lot like active concealment.

Yuuri didn’t want that. 

So, he had told her he was bisexual. She had responded with a ‘cool, same’ and that had really pummelled their budding friendship forward because now Yuuri had someone to talk to about his experiences. 

They had met up for one date, on their way to the arcade. Yuuri had been blushing to the tips of his ears. Ester had already called that cute twice. It was a promising start, but it had to be cut short before they could so much as reach the arcade due to an urgent meeting of this study group Ester was part of, regarding an assignment due the very next day. She apologized even more intensely than Yuuri usually would and threw herself in an embarrassed bow. 

Later, she explained how she had seen in anime that Japanese people tended to bow when they apologized and so she did because she really wanted Yuuri to know how bad she felt. 

It was intensely adorable. 

Yeah, gorgeous, confident dorks were exactly what Yuuri’s type was, man or woman. 

“No but seriously, don’t overwork yourself. If you want I’ll tell Victor for you. There’s no way he won’t listen to me.” 

Yuuri straightened himself to face her properly again. She had fallen back on her bed too because now the phone was being held close to her face. Yuuri shook his head. 

“I am fine. Honestly. If it gets too bad I will tell him.” 

He won’t. Just like he hadn’t told him about her. 

He had a feeling in his gut that Victor won’t take it well. 

Rationale argued against it, why won’t Victor take it well? The answer to that question was easy to be found in memories from that afternoon in the dorm nearly a week ago, that Yuuri was trying desperately to forget. 

‘Everything is… like, technicolor, you know? Too bright. I don’t know what you do to me.’ 

Yuuri didn’t want to know what he did to Victor, either, much as his heart felt like it was expanding in his chest, making everything else within him collapse in a rush of adrenaline. 

He didn’t want to think about what Victor meant. He refused to. It would lead nowhere. 

How was that even possible? People weren’t bent for one person. Either you were or you weren’t. Victor had said he wasn’t and that was what Yuuri was going to believe. No rose-tinted fantasies and sweet nonsense mumbled in the way of apologies would change that. 

The moment Yuuri decided he wanted to give Victor another chance, he also made his peace with the fact that every other feeling except friendship was going to have to be locked away. Nothing else could exist between them if Yuuri was to keep Victor as a friend. 

Why then, did Yuuri feel uncomfortable telling Victor about Ester? He didn’t know. That was another little something he had decided not to think about. 

“You know what they say,” JJ had said when Yuuri told his roommates everything later that night, which he had to, considering he had banished them from their own dorm for the entire day. “De Nile isn’t just a river in Egypt.” 

Yuuri had rolled his eyes. Phichit had remained quiet. 

Ever since then, however, Phichit had taken to pushing Yuuri towards Ester. It hadn’t escaped Yuuri’s notice. He had had no complaints. If anything, he was glad Phichit didn’t feel the need to make him ‘talk about it’ instead, moving on to just trying to fix him up with someone else. 

For what it was worth, at least Yuuri had really, honestly gotten to pick the person this time. 

“It’s crazy though. Your schedule right now. I could never deal with that.” She mentioned casually. Yuuri knew what was coming next and he had to bite back a grin. 

“It’s just… I was wondering,” true to form, she began with a soft but charming smile on her face. “Are your weekends also this loaded? I owe you a date to the arcade.” 

Yuuri hummed. 

“I am sure I can figure something out. Victor isn’t totally unreasonable.” 

Her smile brightened and Yuuri felt a sappy sigh bubble up in his gut. He bit down on his lip with considerable force to hold it back. 

“I have a condition,” Yuuri said. His cheeks were very clearly red, he could feel the warmth in them. It was not like he could help it. He just wasn’t used to flirting with people. 

“What is it?” She asked, blinking up at him through the phone screen. 

“You will wear this top.” 

He caught her off-guard and for a second, she looked so flustered, Yuuri wanted to give himself a high five. 

He wasn’t used to flirting with people but he could do it. His success rate was nowhere nearly as high as he would want it to be, however, he was convinced he was getting there. 

“Oh my god, just go to sleep now. Bye.” She hung up before he could get another word out. Yuuri chuckled and let his hand fall to his chest. 

All things considered, life had gotten a lot better in the last week. 

…

“Yuuuuuuri!” 

Distractedly, Yuuri held up his bag of crisps towards a whining Victor who had been eyeing them for all of the lunch hour. He snorted as he read through the wall of text Ester had just sent him, ranting about her best friend’s boyfriend’s sister’s son, who was supposedly the very reincarnation of the devil. 

She was funny when she was pissed. 

“I am not asking for your chips!” Victor called out, obviously affronted at being ignored like that. “Who are you texting?” 

Yuuri immediately froze. 

Phichit, the menace, however, had picked his moment to shine. 

“Yeah Yuuri, who do you keep texting these days? God, it's like you’re obsessed with them!” 

With his eyes dead-set on a frowning Victor, Yuuri told Phichit- 

“It’s no one.” 

“You were blushing. Didn’t look like it was no one.” 

It was hard to keep himself from throwing the ugliest of glares at Seung-Gil for that. 

Yuuri took a deep breath, reminding himself Seung-Gil had been trying to get along with them all and for real, this time. 

At least, he was no longer looking at them like they were dirt beneath his shoes which was as good a start as any. Phichit was so pleased, however, that Yuuri or JJ could barely see the need to complain. 

“It’s almost as bad as when Victor first got you into texting and you couldn’t look away from your phone for hours.” - was Isabella’s contribution. 

If a God existed, all Yuuri wanted to ask them was what he had done to exclusively be saddled with friends who seemed to hate his guts. 

“It’s nobody.” He gritted out, eyes widening with a silent plea in them. It was enough for Phichit and Bella, who immediately decided he was not fucking around and to get off of his back. Timing of the universe was fucked up, however, because that was the exact moment Yuri Plisetsky decided to pass by their table, with his own phone out and in his hand. 

“That’s not what the hag’s sister is called.” 

Yuuri stared behind the little, blond kid in bewilderment. Though they had developed something akin to a friendly acquaintance, Yuri rarely stopped to acknowledge Yuuri and his friends, having bunched together and chucked them into the category of ‘worthless loser wastes of space’. 

Yuuri wanted to hit his head against the top of the table. 

“You’re texting Mila’s sister?” 

Victor asked. 

Yuuri felt himself flailing, hands already lifted in an attempt to pacify a perfectly calm-looking Victor. He was about to make excuses and tell Victor that it was nothing serious when the ridiculousness of the entire situation hit him. 

Why was he trying to hide this from Victor again? He knew he had some sort of a reason, but looking into the face of the guy who had stolen his heart and then firmly told him he was not into boys, he couldn’t recall it. 

Yeah, it was nothing serious for now but Yuuri really wanted it to be at some point in the future and Victor would find out then. How would that be any different from figuring it out now? 

Composing himself, Yuuri placed a careful smile on his face. 

“Yeah” He admitted. “It’s not been very long but I like her.” 

That was fine, right? Casual but conveying interest, that Yuuri very much did not have in Victor anymore, thanks a lot. 

… and yet, not for a second was it possible to kid himself. If Yuuri had lived in a world where Victor saw him the same way he saw Victor, and then it had been boiled down to Ester or Victor, Yuuri would have wasted not a single second in whole-heartedly choosing Victor over the rest of the world. 

That was just a fact. The sooner Yuuri made his peace with it, the quicker he could get to the actual moving-on-from-Victor part. 

Victor smiled, for what it was worth, a genuine smile. 

“That’s great. Ester is great. I’ve met her.” Victor told him, nodding his head for some reason. 

Yuuri found himself licking his lips in nervousness. 

“Yeah, she told me.” 

They had successfully made this the most awkward interaction they’d ever had with each other, which was saying something, considering how often they could be found bumbling around like fools, entirely unable to find the right words to say to each other. 

“Okay.” 

Victor was still nodding his head. 

“Yeah.” 

Yuuri had pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose twice already and he had to struggle to keep his fingers from flying to his face again. 

“That were the awkwardest five minutes of my entire life.” Phichit snorted later, while they were on their way to English. Yuuri rolled his eyes. 

“As if you weren’t the root cause of it all.” 

Phichit shrugged, entirely too unconcerned. 

“I was just teasing. Blame the blond chihuahua if you’re going to blame anyone. Saying the wrong things at the worst of times is a trait that just seems to flow in that family’s genes.” 

Yuuri didn’t dignify that with a response, glad that at least Victor had taken it all in stride. It was just slightly, extremely awkward.  It could’ve been worse. 

…

By the time the weekend rolled around, Yuuri had forgotten all about that interaction with Victor. 

Like a coward, he had canceled the training session Victor had scheduled for Saturday afternoon over text. Then, he quickly locked his phone, refusing to open Victor’s chat thread and see what his response was. He had told the guy he won’t be there so he’d know not to show up, and that was as much explanation as Yuuri owed him. 

So, he put on his cutest shirt (after it was approved by his best friend, his roommate, and his roommate’s girlfriend) and he left for his date, excited and nervous in just the right amounts. 

He was getting into JJ’s car that he had borrowed when the thought arose out of nowhere. 

‘I wish I was going to him instead.’ 

Yuuri groaned and put his head to the steering wheel. 

…

For someone who was internally so put off by his fixation on his straight friend, Yuuri managed to get through the date without coming off like a braindead moron who was an annoyance at worst and a bore at best. Ester seemed to enjoy herself around him, and for his part, Yuuri realized he quite liked spending time with her himself. 

She had worn the red top, too. 

They exhausted the relatively wide variety of games the arcade had to offer and then they moved on to get pizza in a place Ester suggested to him. The food was great, the company was nice and yet Yuuri’s hand kept itching to open Victor’s chat and see what the other boy had had to say. 

He would have asked what Yuuri was up to. 

Yuuri decided he would tell him, honestly. There was no point in running away from this.

“Mila seemed surprised when I mentioned Victor was training you in hockey after hours. She said she’d never heard that you were ever interested in it.” 

Yuuri stroked the back of his neck and shook his head. 

Her lipgloss was kind of distracting. 

… and she knew it. 

“Yeah, it’s not something I talk about a lot because I am nowhere near the level the school team plays on. Just seems kinda stupid.” 

Ester frowned. 

“I could take your word for it or I could listen to my gut.” 

Yuuri lifted a brow. 

“And what is your gut saying?” 

“That you’re downplaying yourself again.”

Yuuri rolled his eyes. 

“Stop listening to everything Phichit says. He is an idiot.” 

Ester simply gave him a flat, unimpressed look and Yuuri cried out-

“I don’t downplay myself! Seriously! I know myself and I am not afraid to acknowledge when I suck, that’s it.” 

Ester threw up her hands as if she couldn’t take this conversation anymore. 

Really, her penchant for drama wasn’t helping in keeping his mind from straying to a certain Russian, who shared that, and numerous other traits with Ester. 

“Let me judge for myself, then.” 

…

That was how Yuuri found himself back in his school hockey field laughing with the sun in his face, sweat dripping down his brow. They only had one hockey stick between them, and Ester knew next to nothing about the game. Yuuri had quickly abandoned using her as a subpar goalie and trying to display how certain shots were supposed to work because they just couldn’t take it seriously. Not when Ester’s arms flopped uselessly by her side every time Yuuri got the ball through, and she stared at the ground with a comically irritated frown as if this was going to be the end of the world. Yuuri lost his shit whenever she looked like that, and at one point, she picked up the ball and straight-up hurled it at him. Nearly instinctively, Yuuri whacked it away with his hockey stick.

… and so, they began to play an all too weird travesty of cricket with their hockey stick and ball. 

Ester, who was better at trying to maul Yuuri with the ball, glowed under the waning sunlight, the careful, golden glare working magic on her dark skin. They were sweaty and high on adrenaline, and every time their eyes met they burst out laughing uncontrollably. Yuuri couldn’t stop staring at her and had barely managed to hit the ball at all after his first lucky shot. 

Again, it went whizzing past his head, prompting Ester to point at him and start laughing. She had licked her lip gloss clean off her lips and when she wiped the sweat from her brow, she traced a line of mud down the side of her forehead. 

Feeling just a little breathless, and like his heart had been snared by a hook that kept pulling, Yuuri dropped the stick to the ground and walked over to her, tightening his arms around her waist and pulling her flush against himself. 

Immediately after he had done that, he flushed at his own boldness. He had reason to believe he squeaked a little. 

Ester, however, remained staring at him, panting a little despite the soft smile curling along the corner of her mouth. Yuuri didn’t think he’d ever be over the fact that a girl like that somehow had a thing for him. 

“We should be kissing.” She stated simply, and then they were. 

Yuuri hadn’t had a lot of kissing experience, but he was willing to bet Ester was good at it, mostly because he felt good being kissed by her. She seemed to know what she was doing, and she felt so soft against him, even though she was a little taller. His arms set just so in the curve of her waist and Yuuri dragged her closer. She smiled against his mouth and looped her arms around his neck. 

It was nothing like kissing Victor. 

Yuuri didn’t think that thought belonged in his head, considering the better part of ‘kissing Victor’ he could not even remember. Their dance hall kiss had felt desperate, like they were both trying to press their irritations into each other’s skins and make them disappear, to be replaced by something better… something headier. Yuuri had no other recollection of what it was like to kiss Victor, and yet, he knew. 

He knew it was nothing like this. 

He knew this couldn’t ever compare to that. 

Nothing would… 

… and it pissed him off. 

With a groan of frustration, Yuuri reached up and threaded his fingers through her hair, tugging just a little. She took the hint and opened her mouth, and he reached inside with another grunt. Ester answered him with a quiet sigh he swallowed eagerly and suddenly, the pace of the kiss was all different, faster, wilder. 

… and still nothing like Victor. 

Yuuri bit her lower lip, and her hands crawled up to grip along his jaw. She refused to back down, running her tongue along the back of his mouth, scraping his own tongue with her teeth. One of Yuuri’s hands reached down to cup her ass, trying to pull her as close as it was possible. She moaned again. 

… and yet… 

Yuuri pulled back with a hiss, his gut feeling like it was on fire. Ester looked positively ravished, mouth swollen and eyes half-lidded and she grinned at him mischievously, a tooth poking out to bite the side of her lower lip.

It wasn’t him. 

Ester glanced down at Yuuri’s crotch, and her eyebrows crawled up her forehead in surprise. Her grin only widened. 

“Well, hello there, tiger.” She whistled, and Yuuri at least possessed the grace to flush scarlet. “Wow, you must really like me.” 

Yuuri could do nothing but grin. 

At that moment, he well and truly hated himself. 

…

“So, did you get nervous or what?” Ester asked him later during their now regular FaceTime call before bed. 

Yuuri plastered a smile on his face and nodded. 

When Ester had tried to go further, Yuuri had shut down. She had taken the hint pretty quickly though and mercifully didn’t prolong his embarrassment, backing off without letting it become awkward. He couldn’t tell her he had stopped because he felt so guilty, though because how the fuck would that even sound? 

So he went along with the escape route she was so nicely providing to him and nodded his head. 

She laughed. 

“God, you’re like the cutest boy I have ever been with.” 

It wasn’t like Victor had given him the boner. She had. 

That was true. 

It was also true that the other boy should have been nowhere near his mind when he was kissing someone else like he was trying to devour them. Victor, however, seemed to have claimed a significant part of Yuuri’s heart, mind and life, pitched a tent, and was now refusing to move, no matter how it hurt Yuuri.   

“I had a great time today.” He told her, satisfied that it was the truth. She grinned back at him and looked so positively smitten for a second that Yuuri couldn’t believe it. 

“I had a hell of a time, too. I am so glad you passed out in my parents’ bedroom that day.” 

Yuuri just couldn’t bring himself to feel as grateful for that particular night as her, though. 

Later that night, Yuuri couldn’t help asking out loud. 

“What if I don’t like her? What if my brain is just, you know, latching on to the next best thing?” 

Nobody said anything for a while, and Yuuri lay there, staring at the bottom of Phichit’s bunk, miles away from sleep. 

“If that is true,” JJ said, eventually. “Then that just means you not only get over Victor but get an awesome girlfriend out of it. Don’t mind me if I can’t see the downside.” 

…

The next day being a Sunday, Phichit and JJ decided to accompany Yuuri and Victor for their training session. They called Yuri too and for the first time in so bloody long, Yuuri could play proper hockey to his heart’s content. 

He was also introduced to Team Captain Victor, who was an entirely different animal than his Victor. The amount of authority in his voice, the naked expectation that he would be obeyed… It made Yuuri shiver, watching Victor streaking across the field, barking instructions at him, eyes sharpened with focus and skin glistening with sweat. 

He got so distracted just looking at Victor, that he missed a stellar opportunity to steal the ball away from Yuri and Victor threw his hands up in the air, before running them through his hair in frustration as he angrily gestured for Yuuri to pay attention. 

It was insanely hot. 

Even more so, when Victor told Yuri, who was being more aggressive and rude to Yuuri than he usually was, to ‘back the fuck off’. 

Phichit tossed him a water bottle at some point, smirking at him, and Yuuri flipped him off.  

Right as Yuuri was pouring water down his throat, Victor bent down to tie his shoelaces, bubble-butt in tight sports shorts on full and direct display for Yuuri. 

He choked. 

Phichit rubbed his back but couldn’t stop laughing. As soon as Yuuri had recovered enough strength, he shoved him away. 

JJ, Yuri, and Victor walked over to where Yuuri and Phichit were still half-heartedly roughhousing around. Victor slung an arm around his shoulders and forcefully pulled him away from Phichit, grinning at the Thai boy. 

“No sabotaging my teammate.” He said. 

Because it would be weird not to in this situation, Yuuri wrapped his own arm around Victor’s waist and when Victor squeezed his shoulders, drawing their sides closer together, Yuuri could do nothing but smile and squeeze his waist in return. 

“How was your date yesterday?” Victor asked him the second he had Yuuri to himself, the others off a ways apart, looking at something on Yuri’s phone. 

Yuuri sputtered. 

“I saw it on her story.” Victor gave him a smile he couldn’t really comprehend.

“It was good. We had fun.” 

“Made out?” 

Yuuri could do nothing but stare at Victor, mouth agape. 

What was this? They had talked about lots of things but never before had Victor asked him something like that. Was this his version of locker room talk? Was Victor just trying to show Yuuri how far into the friend zone he was? 

If this was some kind of a ‘bro-ness’ test, Yuuri was determined to ace it. 

“Yeah! Lots!” Yuuri said, voice just high enough to make him wince. “Right here, actually. In the field. We were playing around. She’s,” Yuuri shook his head in cheap imitation of what he had seen some boys do when speaking of their partners. “So hot, you know.” 

Victor nodded, offered Yuuri an awkward laugh, told him he needed to pee, and then hurriedly left. Yuuri remained stuck to his spot, unable to lift his eyes from where Victor had been standing seconds ago. 

A wave of something washed over him, curling thick and heavy inside his chest. Everything in him wanted him to reach out for Victor. He could figure out what he was going to say later. It was just essential that he stopped Victor, kept him from going further away. 

Yuuri did no such thing. His mood suddenly, and thoroughly, ruined, he turned around and trudged back to his room, without saying a word to anyone else.

Chapter Text

He bit into her lip a little too hard accidentally. She clicked her tongue and pulled away with a frown. Embarrassed, Victor tugged at her and kissed her lower lip softly in apology till she let up and started kissing him again. 

It was… fine. 

Not exactly  fun  but not unpleasant either. It was how it had always been and Victor was fine with that. He had always known kissing was just a thing. It was wet and gross and sometimes, it was really, really awkward. It wasn’t supposed to make him feel things. 

Except it had,  he  had but Victor was trying extremely hard to not think about that with his hands on somebody else. 

She moaned against him and Victor instinctively went to pull away. Their noses bumped together and the girl giggled. 

He had already forgotten her name and Victor hated himself for that. He really was the lowest of the low sometimes. 

Her hand snuck down his side, coming to rest on his hips and Victor felt his chest tighten. She was clearly expecting things to go further and why won’t she? That’s why she had called him over. Nobody asked Victor for help with  homework.  He was far from a genius. 

Victor gentled his kisses, trying desperately to steer her away from the idea that they would be doing more. She only relented because she probably thought he was trying to switch things up for her hand was still trying to sneak closer to his crotch.  

Victor had never gone further than a blowjob and it wasn’t even a lie. Yeah, he wasn’t a virgin but  that  had happened more out of curiosity and been an overall bad experience so he didn’t count it. Nobody had even orgasmed. 

Blowjobs, he had found, were nice and there was never a shortage of girls who enjoyed giving them to him. He had once thought he should return the favor but hadn’t been able to gather the guts to actually do it. So, he was  nowhere  near as experienced as people liked to think he was. It was true, he had gone out with a fair number of girls but none of them had even held his interest long enough for it to turn into a relationship. He had done it  once  and not liked it. Kissing too was in general not something he ever looked forward to. 

It was just a thing. 

(except for when it wasn’t)

But he was trying his best not to think about that. 

Presently, he was saved by the sound of a text alert, and immediately, Victor’s hands flew off of her. 

“Mmh!” He mumbled against her mouth as he gently pushed her away. 

Up close, he realized once again how much her mouth resembled Yuuri’s and he bit back a sigh. 

He had a frustratingly one-track mind these days. 

“Sorry, I have to take this.” He pulled out his phone and waved it in the air. 

The girl, looking somewhat awkward, smiled and walked away to sit on her bed. 

Hastily, Victor turned away, unlocking his screen. It was a text from Yuuri, informing Victor he couldn’t make it to practice that afternoon. Victor frowned. 

Did Yuuri even have any idea exactly  how  hard he had to plead to get Yakov to let him use the field? 

… and yeah, while the answer to the above question was- ‘not very hard at all’ it was the principle of the matter that counted. 

He still remembered how Yakov had stroked his chin and looked contemplative. 

“He’s good, you say?” 

“As good as any of us.” Victor honestly replied. “I think he will be a real asset to the team. Maybe you can start him off as an extra, decide for yourself. I will bet anything that you’ll be putting him on within a week of him actually coming to practice.” 

“Then why don’t you bring him to practice. We’ll try him out as we do with every other kid here. I don’t think I approve of this special treatment, Vitya. Tryouts are already over and-...”