Chapter Text
"And then I winked at him."
"You winked at him!?"
"Yes! Me! Winked at the most gorgeous person I have seen in all of my life, and then he called me beautiful, and I almost fell over."
Phichit's laughter rings loud and clear, even through the microphone of his cell and the speaker of Yuuri's computer. Despite thousands of miles separating the USA and Thailand, it still feels like Phichit is right there with him, and it does wonders for his frazzled nerves.
"Oh, so suddenly you're a master flirt? That's just like you," he chirps, smiling into the camera, "you haven't changed at all! Remember when that guy we met in Detroit-"
"Eugh," Yuuri physically recoils, "don't remind me. That is the number one most embarrassing Katsuki Yuuri moment." He sighs, expelling the memory from his mind. "And besides, you never change either, mister five-hundred selfies a day." Yuuri says, browsing through Instagram on his phone. His feed is absolutely flooded with pictures of the ice, plus some pictures from Cup of China, and it makes Yuuri's chest swell with nostalgia. How long has it been since he was there? Two, three years? He can hardly remember. He tries not to think about it.
"Guilty." Phichit says, throwing a peace sign.
"Ah, but anyway," Yuuri backtracks, putting the phone down and settling back into his chair, "I'm not even really sure if he actually likes me or anything. He seems like a flirty type, you know? Like a heart throb," Yuuri waves his hands, vague and undefined like the way hes feeling. "Plus, he's one of my kid's brother. Is that... bad? Is that weird?"
Phichit chuckles again, leaning against his pillows. "It's fine," he replies, covering up a yawn. It was late in Bangkok- past 11pm, and Yuuri knew Phichit had a flight the next morning, suddenly struck with a pang of guilt for keeping his friend up.
He shrugs, dismissing the conversation. "You should get to sleep. You have Rostelecom tomorrow, right? Flying out to Russia early?"
Phichit beams, "You remembered!"
Yuuri rolls his eyes in an of course I did manner, and Phichits smile only grows. "I have a flight at 9am. I guess I really should get to sleep, huh?"
"Definitely. You're only a shoe in for gold if you're actually awake to get it. This is your year, alright?"
Phichit nods, yawns one last time and wishes Yuuri farewell and good luck, and Yuuri closes his laptop, tipping backwards into his own pillows, picking one up to, forcefully shove his face into.
The thing is, Yuuri is pretty inexperienced when it comes to romance. Besides one (very embarrassing, very brief) stint with some guy he met at college in Detroit when he and Phichit were training together, his love life was lackluster and almost comedically bare. Phichit likes to poke fun at him for it, and he likes to go along. But it's not as though he's inexperienced. He's twenty three years old, for God's sake, he isn't innocent. He's had his share of drunken one night stands (one), sloppy kisses (dozens), but not an actual dating record.
And he didn't want just an awkward one night stand with Viktor (or with anyone, really). He wanted something of substance, but how could he expect that when he has nothing to offer?
Here were the things he had stacked in his favor: Viktor was handsome, maybe possibly interested in him, and he was old enough that he probably wasn't looking to fool around, hopefully looking to settle down.
Here were the things he had stacked against him: Literally everything else. Anxiety? Depression? General insecurity and inexperience with lasting romantic relationships? Check, check, and check.
Thinking about it, Yuuri had a strong, sudden urge to smother himself in his nest of blankets. Why was he even worried about this? He barely even knew Viktor. He knew Yuri better than he knew Viktor, and he barely even knew much about the little blonde boy anyway.
Just thinking about it extensively was making his stomach rise into his throat. He already felt a stupid amount for Viktor, and he'd only known him for what, two months? And even then, he was only making small talk. It was like he was in high school again, with some kind of stupid hopeless crush.
Of course, there was that small, giddy part of Yuuri that told him Viktor was definitely interested. But the bigger, more convincing part of him said it was a fleeting interest- and he didn't want to subject himself to an avoidable heartbreak. In the quiet of his apartment, Yuuri wondered just how weird it would be if he asked Yuri about it... but he couldn't actually do that. Besides being weird, it was incredibly unprofessional...
It turns out, Yuuri really could do that.
Yuuri definitely knows shame, but at this point, he can't be bothered to be too worried about it. He's anxious about the possibility that Viktor is coming on to him, and it's greatly outweighing the embarrassment of asking this four year old for dating advice.
This four year old who was currently looking at his craft time drawing like it owed him money, scribbling on it with a vengeance. Yuuri kneels at his side and compliments the drawing, to which Yuri doesn't respond. They sit in a slightly awkward silence before Yuuri clears his throat and wills his thoughts into words.
"So... you and your brother." Yuuri starts, as Yuri snaps a red crayon in half with the ferocity in which he is coloring, top and bottom barely connected by the paper wrapping. The four year old hardly reacts, and Yuuri subtly picks up the pack of crayons he was using and holds it to his side, out of reach of Yuri's destructive hands. He's perched by Yuri's side as he sits at the crafts table, and he doesn't even think Yuri is ever going to reply to him until he pauses for a short second, scanning another part of the paper.
"Me and my brother," Yuri repeats, crayon back down and still coloring despite the its state. He's drawing God knows what, maybe a murder scene, judging by all the red.
Yuuri gives himself just a moment to chastise himself for just how creepy this is before continuing. "Is it just you at home with Viktor? Or does your brother have... someone." Yuuri folded his hands, hardly believing he really, really did that. What the hell was he thinking? He was going to get fired.
With that, Yuri pauses to stare directly into Yuuri's eyes, and if he didn't know better, he would think he was trying to kill him with just the look.
"Someone."
It's not a question, and Yuuri is wondering how a four year old could be genuinely intimidating. He waves his hand in an unsure way, trying to convey his question without words.
"A girlfriend?" he finally asks. There's another short pause before Yuri goes back to drawing, looking back down at his paper.
"He doesn't date girls," he replies, nonchalant like it's not the best thing Yuuri has heard all year. In fact, Yuuri does his level best not to cheer.
"Oh. I see. Does he have a boyfriend?"
"I dunno," Yuri says to him, exasperatedly putting down his crayon and looking back up at his teacher. "Viktor told me not to say anything to you."
That captures Yuuri's attention. He smirks at the implication, not wanting to make assumptions but everything seems to be making sense. "Nothing to me?" he asks curiously, trying to hide exactly how interested he is in the rest of this story. Yuuri is almost positive the four year old knows exactly what he's giving away, and he's glad him and Yuri seem to be bonding, even if it's a little unconventional.
"About how much he talks about you. Which is a bunch." Yuri pauses, looking around. "Where did the crayons go? I need blue."
Yuuri's almost sure his face is straining from how heavily he is suppressing the urge to smile from ear to ear. He looks down at the box he has and looks through it. "But you are, right now."
Yuuri hands him a blue crayon, which Yuri gratefully accepts. "I know," Yuri answers, putting it to paper and getting back to his dedicated coloring. "I don't listen to him."
Yuuri leans a hand onto the table, collecting stray drawing paper into a neat pile. "Why's that? You should listen to him more, he works hard for you."
Yuri just shrugs. "Cause he's stupid."
Yuuri startles the entire room with how hard he laughs.
"I hope he wasn't too much trouble for you today, Yuuri," Viktor says when he stops by to pick Yuri up.
The four year old barely acknowledges him, eating a pack of goldfish Yuuri had given him to try to make friends. It seemed to work.
"No, he was great," Yuuri says, patting Yuri's shoulder, "we had a fun time today. Learned a lot." Yuri smirks up at his teacher and turns his attention to Viktor, who recognizes his grin and looks a little nervous at it.
"Oh really?" Viktor asks, ruffling Yuri's hair with a small, hesitant smile, "what about?"
"You," Yuri says, deadpan from where he stands next to Viktor, smacking his hand away. "What's for dinner? I'm hungry."
At that, Viktor pales noticeably. "Me?"
Yuri shakes his goldfish to assess how many are left. "Yeah."
Looking slightly panicked, Viktor's eyes find Yuuri's and search for an answer. Yuuri offers him nothing, just smiles, amused, and gestures to Yuri who is fighting to dig the last couple crackers out of the crinkling package he is holding.
"What about me," Viktor asks carefully. His tone of voice betrays how much he doesn't really want to know, morbid curiosity about what his little brother could have said to ruin his reputation getting the best of him.
"Um," the four year old tries, "the stuff you said not to say."
Yuuri raises an eyebrow at Viktor, who turns alarmed at Yuuri with an expression Yuuri will have to commit to memory. He can't imagine he will be seeing very much of it, especially since Viktor looks like he might die right there on the spot. All Yuuri can do in response is an amused smile.
"I... I'm so sorry-" he begins, ready to dive into a dozen apologies, but is stopped by Yuuri holding his hands up.
"It's okay," he promises, "it's... it's endearing?" Yuuri shrugs, embarrassment finally finding him with a small blush. His expression quirks into something mimicking deep thought, as if he hasn't been planning what he would say at this point for the past several hours. "Maybe make it up to me by meeting me at the rink on Saturday?"
Viktor looks shell shocked, but nods nonetheless. "I- really? I mean, yeah. Yes, okay, yes."
"Then, it's a date?" Yuuri says, smiling brilliantly. His blush has no doubt spread to his ears at this point, but he attempts to keep up the "I don't actually feel so nervous and embarrassed right now that I want to die" facade he's put on.
Luckily, Viktor's relieved sigh is all the more charming with the proceeding, airy, "yes."