Chapter Text
”...ri... Yuuri! Please wake up! I promise I won’t ever tease you about Viktor Nikiforov again!”
”Whaaa...? Phichit? What happened? Why am I...?” Yuuri came to, lying on his back on the floor, with his feet on the couch and a frantic Phichit hovering over him. At the first signs of consciousness, the Thai boy’s face lit up in a relieved smile, tinged with a fair amount of guilt. Yuuri’s eyes narrowed.
”I will never forgive you for adding that pillow to the package! And to think you told Viktor I had a hand in packing the box! What is he going to think? Am I the subject of hundreds of memes again?”
”First of all: did Viktor seem like he minded the dakimakura? No, he did not. He said he would sleep with it. Second: you did help with the packing. Not very much, but you did. And third: there are quite a few memes, and they’re all rather flattering for you. There’s even a hashtag or two, #thirstyviktor and #eroskatsuki.”
Yuuri groaned and buried his face in his hands. There were times when he wished his best friend wasn’t just so damn... enthusiastic. Not to mention social media savvy.
”#eroskatsuki? Really Phichit? Was that the best you could come up with?”
”It wasn’t me who coined it!” At Yuuri’s level stare, Phichit amended: ”Ok, so maybe that one was mine. But it suits you!”
Yuuri shook his head. He still felt a little woozy and out of sorts, and couldn’t really figure out why he had fainted, like some damsel in a regency story, until he remembered he had been training hard all day and just might have forgotten to eat. He gave Phichit a pleading look.
”Can we just not talk about unboxing videos and Viktor Nikiforov for a moment, and consider ordering takeout?”
”Wow, who are you, and what did you do to my best friend? I never thought I’d see the day when you would rather have dinner than Viktor Nikiforov!”
”It’s not like I was having him, as you so delicately put it, we were just watching a video. Can we order dinner now? Please?”
”Of course. Chinese or Mexican?”
”I feel like I could do with a jalapeño popper or two right now. Can we get an awesome blossom as well? For some reason I want something hot and spicy.”
”Maybe we ought to do Russian takeout then? Ow, no fair kicking me! Ow, Yuuri, stop it, that hurts!”
”It doesn’t hurt as much as your lousy jokes! Go ahead and call now, I’m starving!”
Phichit got serious all of a sudden.
”Yuuri, please don’t tell me you forgot to eat again?”
”Uhh...”
”Yuuri. You cannot keep doing this to yourself. You’re a world-class athlete, you train really hard, but you need to remember to eat too, or your body is going to give up on you one day. You remember the ice dancer Ciao-Ciao told us about, the girl who literally starved herself so her partner would have an easier time lifting her. I really don’t want you to turn into something like that.”
”I won’t, I swear I won’t. I just forgot to bring a lunchbox, and I was doing really well on my jumps for once, so I didn’t want to interrupt the flow by going out to buy lunch. And after a while I wasn’t really hungry anymore, so I forgot all about it.” The sincerity in Yuuri’s expression calmed his friend down, and he grabbed his phone and made the call to the restaurant.
”The food will be here in half an hour. What do you say we watch Viktor’s unboxing video again? No? Ow! Yuuri!”
******
Viktor Nikiforov considered himself a man of the world. He was suave, charming, he dressed well, and he knew how to charm all kinds of people. He usually got a positive, even enthusiastic, response whenever he flirted with someone. Not that he did that very often nowadays. But Yuuri Katsuki was different. He wasn’t very active on social media, for one. If it hadn’t been for the Thai skater, Phichit Chulanont, Viktor would have despaired long ago.
Well, there was a certain amount of despair beginning to show now. Viktor had reached out through all the channels he could think of, tagging Yuuri if he could find an account of his, and tagging Chulanont if not. When the package arrived, he was sure he had finally broken through the walls around the lovely Japanese skater, but that was the last life sign he’d had. Two weeks after making his unboxing video, Viktor was getting... yes, all right, desperate was the correct word. The time had come for a war campaign. He was going to undertake a siege on Yuuri’s heart!
******
Yuuri stared helplessly at the chaos in the livingroom and hallway.
”Stop laughing Phichit, this isn’t funny!!! Goddammit Phich, help me move all this stuff so we at least have a way to move between the couch and the kitchen!”
Phichit, still laughing hysterically, grabbed one of the numerous packages and hefted it.
”This is heavy stuff Yuuri! Aren’t you going to open your gifts and see what your sugar daddy sent you?”
”PHICHIT!”
”Just a suggestion Yuuri – tell Viktor to send a few vases as well. I think he probably bought up a couple of Detroit’s finest flower shops!” Phichit put down the box he was holding and picked up another, smaller one and tore it open.
”Stop that! We have to return all this stuff! It must be some kind of mistake!” Yuuri was almost in tears.
Phichit was holding one of the numerous bouquets of pink roses, big enough that he was barely visible behind it. He grinned and read from the attached card:
”I am looking forward to meeting you soon Yuuri. Love, Viktor.”
”Whaaaa...?”
The ping from both of their phones simultaneously made both Yuuri and Phichit forget about the packages stacked all over their apartment. Phichit was a little faster, and just had enough of a warning to grab Yuuri when his eyes rolled up and his legs gave out.
The notification showed a selfie with a smiling Viktor Nikiforov at an airport lounge, tagged with #nextstopdetroit #thirstyviktor #eroskatsuki.