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Viktor glided along the ice smoothly, occasionally rubbing his thumb over the hand clasped in his. It had been a long, tiring, yet fruitful day of practice. Yuuri had just started to clean up his routine for the upcoming Four Continents, treating Viktor and the other skaters to a full run through. Even Yurio, after viewing it, couldn’t quite smother his impressed expression when Viktor glanced his way. Of course, he had scowled promptly after seeing Viktor, ready to vehemently deny any and all thoughts of the performance, but Viktor knew how he really felt.
Viktor glanced at Yuuri as they completed one more lap of the rink. With a light flush dusting his cheeks and his hair curling haphazardly around his head, Viktor didn’t know how Yurio kept his affection for Yuuri buried. It just burst out of Viktor sometimes, especially when Yuuri’s beauty hit him completely unawares.
(This was a prime example.)
Viktor made a sharp turn in their path, pulling Yuuri to his chest like a whip. Yuuri huffed sharply against his neck at the abrupt impact, clutching Viktor’s forearms to steady himself.
“Your performance was lovely, Yuuri! Everyone was just blown away!” he praised, squeezing him a little tighter to his chest.
A puff of air grazed his neck as Yuuri squirmed, trying to loosen the almost choke hold he had on him.
(So Viktor loved his fiancé, ok? Could he really be blamed for it?)
Yuuri shuffled a little, finding a bit of clearance from Viktor’s grasp as he angled his head up. “I just hope it’s enough to beat JJ. We have the same level of jumps planned, but who knows what can happen once we actually perform,” Yuuri remarked hesitantly, some of his confidence from the performance already ebbing away.
Before Viktor could offer anything to dissuade his anxiety, which was important to do early on to keep his thoughts from spiraling, Yurio started shouting from the other end of the rink.
“Oi, Katsudon! That complete idiot should be the last of your worries! If anything, start worrying about how you’re going to beat me at the World’s!” he called, ire rising with each word. It was clear to everyone that JJ rubbed Yurio the wrong way, for whatever reason. Viktor himself couldn’t say he was a complete fan, but he didn’t go around insulting petty things, like his decision to wear sunglasses on his head, for example.
“In fact, I’d be surprised if you and the old man even managed to make it to the podium with me!” Yurio called, apparent frustration with JJ directed at Viktor and Yuuri instead.
No, Viktor had a different style of being petty.
“Yura!” he called, voice echoing through the rink, “that’s no way to treat your parents!”
Yurio choked on his water as Viktor spoke, taking a couple of seconds to cough before he responded. Yuuri huffed against his chest. Viktor could feel him smothering a smile, though. Releasing Yuuri, he clasped his hand again and led him over to the side of the rink where Yurio was attempting to collect himself.
Glancing over at Yuuri, he noted that the beginnings of his anxiety appeared wiped from his face. It wasn’t exactly conventional, but Yurio’s declaration did manage to clear his head. He’d have to thank him for that later.
“Yurio! You should make it up to your poor parents and come visit us this Saturday for dinner,” he declared, swinging Yuuri’s hand as they drew closer. Despite what Yurio said, Viktor knew that he loved to come over occasionally. “ Yuuri wants to learn how to make borscht!” he added, waiting for Yurio’s initial rebuttal; Yurio always responded better to events when he could pretend that he didn’t care too much about the activity.
Instead of acting contrary like he normally did, Yurio quieted down immediately after the pronouncement, turning around quickly as he mumbled under his breath.
“I can’t. I’m busy that day.”
Well that wasn’t what Viktor was expecting. He glanced Yuuri’s way, sharing an equally confused expression with him. Yuuri shrugged, just as befuddled as Viktor himself.
He looked at Yurio again, who frantically shoved things into his bag in preparation to leave.
Viktor squinted. Was that a blush on his cheeks? The only thing that ever really got Yurio this flustered was-
Oh.
Viktor relaxed, a small smirk inching across his face. He couldn’t help the few chuckles that came out now.
Yuuri threw him a curious look as he laughed. Yurio tensed at the sound, waiting for Viktor’s comment.
“If you had a date with Otabek, why didn’t you just say so, Yura?” he crooned.
Yurio, in the middle of removing his skates, turned around swiftly. “T-that’s not what it is!” he shouted, hair wild, cheeks flushed, “Otabek’s just in town and thought it’d be nice to meet up.”
So a date, then, as far as Viktor was concerned. Or at least that must be Otabek’s intention. Viktor had seen the way Otabek looked at Yurio…
“Oh!” Yuuri exclaimed, “Where are you going for the date, Yurio?” he questioned, apparently agreeing with Viktor.
“It’s not a –” he began, then hesitated, watching Viktor’s raising eyebrow with growing ire. “Look, that’s none of your business!” he sputtered, turning around in a flurry as he power walked away.
Viktor cupped his hands around his mouth. “I expect a full report of the date next week!” Viktor called after him, “If he doesn’t treat you right, Yuuri and I will only be one call away!”
His pronouncement was met with the harsh bang of a door, but Viktor didn’t need to worry; Yurio had heard it all.
He turned to Yuuri, wiping his eyes for dramatic effect. “I can’t believe we’ve come this far Yuuri.” He sniffed, laying it on thick as Yuuri’s stare turned more and more incredulous. “Our son is going on a date; can you believe it?”
Yuuri’s lips pursed as he watched Viktor’s display, looking halfway torn between amusement and reprimand.
“Yurio’s growing up, Viktor,” Yuuri said slowly, as if Viktor wasn’t painfully aware of his son’s last remaining years as a teen, “He turned sixteen just last week, after all.”
“Exactly! He’s getting to that age where he’s finding more exciting things to do than to hang out with the people who raised him,” Viktor said mournfully.
Yuuri’s lips quivered for a moment before he let out a burst of laughter.
“You know, the more you call him our child the more I’m starting to believe it myself,” he chuckled, shaking his head bemusedly, “I mean, just last week I found myself reminding him to take his medication for the cold he had. I even automatically make three lunches every day now.”
“Exactly! He’s practically our adopted son at this point,” Viktor quipped, smile growing into a heart shape.
Yuuri smiled. “Our very angry adopted son.”
Viktor laughed out loud, head tilting back. Their chuckles mingled over the rink.
Yurio may be an angry little rascal, but he was their rascal, in all his angst and pubescent glory.
Chuckles subsiding, a sudden thought came to Viktor. He felt his smile slowly deflate as it predominated his thoughts. Yuuri quieted as he observed his expression.
“Is something wrong?”
Viktor shifted a little, hands clenching at his sides. “Yuuri,” he said seriously, “I know I was joking about it earlier but…”
Yuuri frowned as he drew closer, laying a hand on his forearm.
“But what?”
Viktor released a puff of air. “What if Otabek actually tries something…” he hesitated, searching for a word that wouldn’t sound too off putting, “something untoward with Yurio.”
Yuuri’s eyebrows rose in shock as he considered the statement, but all Viktor could think about now was the typical teen mentality at that age and how easily Yurio, poor unsuspecting Yurio, could fall victim to it.
(Viktor knew firsthand what teen boys were like. Yurio could joke about his age all he wanted, but it wasn’t really all that long ago that Viktor was a young, irresponsible, sprightly whippersnapper.)
Oh god, he just referred to himself as a whippersnapper, didn’t he? What –
Two hands clasped the side of his face, halting his spiraling thoughts. “Viktor,” he said seriously, looking him straight in the eye, “I know this is hard for you – it’s hard for me as well, but…” he shrugged, eyes growing a little misty, “Yurio’s growing up. We have to let him make his own judgement calls. Besides, it’s just like you told him; we’re only one call away.”
Viktor fidgeted, begrudgingly seeing the logic in Yuuri’s statement.
(That didn’t mean he liked it, though.)
“You’re right,” he bemoaned petulantly, “but if Yurio actually decides to get serious with him then we’re going to have to have him over for dinner.”
Yuuri chuckled quietly. “I was about to say the same thing.”
The rest of the week proceeded without incident, other than a quiet and subdued Yurio. Viktor didn’t realize how wrong the rink would feel without Yurio yelling at the two of them occasionally, so needless to say, he was rather pleased when the week came to a close.
It was Saturday morning now, and Viktor was decidedly not thinking about the date. Nope. Not at all. It was the last thing on his mind.
Yuuri walked into the living room, grabbing his coat off of the rack. “You ready to go?”
“Yuuri what do you think the two of them are doing right now?”
Yuuri frowned for a moment. “What are you-?”
Viktor plowed on. “I mean, it’s so early in the day. They couldn’t possibly have gotten up to anything, right?”
Yuuri’s confused expression turned to one of exasperation. He let out a weary sigh.
“We’ve been over this how many times, Viktor? I’m beginning to lose count.” He began walking towards the door, electing to leave without preamble. Viktor trotted after him out of the apartment like a puppy.
“But Yuuri, what if -”
Yuuri turned around and clasped his shoulders.
“Yurio. Will. Be. Fine,” he declared, punctuating each word with finality.
Viktor locked eyes with him, releasing a shaky breath. He thought he knew why this was bothering him so much. He never really had anyone to look out for him when he was that age; there was Yakov, of course, but that relationship hadn’t extended to Viktor’s fledgling romantic life when he was a young teen.
Viktor could recall a few heartbreaking moments, moments that he desperately needed a supportive figure to talk to. He wanted to be that for Yurio, wanted to make sure that he didn’t go through the same mistakes Viktor did.
Except… except Yurio wasn’t Viktor. He had so many people that cared for him, that loved him. He wouldn’t lack confidants if the time ever came when he needed them.
Viktor shook his head, trying to clear his earlier worries. “Yes. You’re right, Yuuri. I’m just being silly.”
Yuuri searched his eyes carefully before releasing him and clutching his hand, tugging on it lightly as they made their way down the sidewalk.
“You know, we can always try and invite them over for dinner sometime soon,” he said casually, rubbing his thumb over Viktor’s hand soothingly.
A small smile grew across his face. “Yes. I’d like that.”
Yuuri smiled back briefly, hair fluttering in the light morning breeze. He reached into his pocket and extracted a list. “So we’ll have to go to a couple different grocery stores to get all the ingredients we need…” he announced, squinting as he tried to read the list as it blew around, “Where should we start first?”
Viktor scanned the list briefly. “There’s a really good shop on Nevsky Prospekt where we can get produce. Let’s go there first.” Nevsky Prospekt was one of the main streets in St. Petersburg, and as such had many good shops, but it was best to get there early in the day to avoid the mid-day crowds. It was about a twenty-minute walk for them, so by the time they were nearing the shop, Viktor had all but forgotten about the date.
The sun was out, birds were singing, and Yuuri was as charming as ever. It was turning into quite the lovely day.
“Otabek! Come here, look! You have to check this out…”
Viktor stopped abruptly, head whipping around wildly for the source. Yurio and Otabek stood about twenty feet away, transfixed at the window of a shop. Otabek’s hand rested on the small of Yurio’s back. Viktor’s eye twitched. What was that he said about it being a nice day? He’d already forgotten.
Yuuri tugged on his sleeve, giving him the patented “Viktor I swear if you mess this up for Yurio you’re sleeping on the coach” look. (It was a new look, yes, but Yuuri had given it to him so many times over the past week that he figured it deserved its own name.)
Viktor pleaded with him silently, eyes darting back and forth between Yuuri and Yurio.
“Would you like to go in, Yura?”
Yurio blushed at the diminutive; it must have been the first time Otabek had addressed him that way. Viktor, on the other hand, squawked.
“Viktor,” Yuuri whispered harshly, shoving them inside a large bush as Yurio started to turn around, no doubt wondering where the inhuman sound came from. Peering through the foliage, Viktor could just make out Yurio’s confused expression.
“What the hell was that?” he questioned, drawing a bit closer to their bush. Viktor’s breath hitched. He felt Yuuri tense around him.
Otabek’s smooth voice responded before Yurio walked the last few steps, saving them from discovery.
“It was likely a bird, Yura, or some sort of street vermin,” he replied patiently. Viktor tensed for a different reason, a bit offended. He didn’t sound like that, did he? Yuuri, the traitor, shook with suppressed laughter, apparently agreeing with Otabek.
“Let’s just go in.” Otabek grabbed his hand, tugging him a few feet away from their bush.
“O-okay…” he replied slowly, frown marring his face. As he turned to join him, though, all it took was the sight of their clasped hands for his blush to return. His earlier quest now forgotten, the two walked into the store, leaving Yuuri and Viktor alone.
“Yuuri, I’m hurt.”
Yuuri released him from his grip, kneeling back on his heels as a few remnant chuckles burst free. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he laughed, “but you really do sound like one sometimes…”
Viktor pouted, not able to really muster up any sort of annoyance. Seeing Yuuri so happy and carefree was one of his life’s joys, and if the source of his happiness happened to be at Viktor’s expense every once in a while, who was he to stop it?
(A voice that sounded suspiciously like Yurio reminded him that he was whipped when it came to Katsuki Yuuri, but he’d like to see anyone try to deny this man anything.)
As Yuuri’s amusement died down, eyes still shinning and cheeks beautifully flushed, Viktor’s pout turned into a soft smile. Sometimes Yuuri’s beauty would hit him completely unawares, like a freight train.
(Ok, maybe it happened a bit more than he was willing to admit.)
“Yuuri!” He launched himself at the man, unable to resist his cuteness. He tackled him to the ground, landing just outside of the bush onto the sidewalk. Yuuri released a soft huff against his neck. Viktor nuzzled him, and after a few moments, Yuuri started prodding him, fidgeting agitatedly beneath him.
“Viktor,” he said shakily. Viktor inhaled his scent deeply, burrowing further into the crook of his neck.
“Hmm?”
“Viktor we’re making a scene,” he muttered. Viktor could feel his skin heating underneath his cheek. Chuckles rumbled in his chest. He nuzzled him for one more moment, giving Yuuri payback for his earlier comment. Peeling himself off him, he offered Yuuri his hand. As they stood up, Viktor took note of the small crowd that had gathered. A few of them had their phones out, meaning that their little scene was undoubtedly long lost to the deep web.
Yuuri’s blush returned with a renewed force. Viktor grabbed his hand, smiled artificially for the crowd, and steered them through until they were just outside the shop that Yurio and Otabek had entered. Figuring that Yurio’s possible wrath was better than facing the crowd, he opened the door and tugged Yuuri inside.
Yuuri shot him a grateful look as they collected themselves in the entryway. They took a moment to observe the shop, which was larger on the inside than he thought. Stairs on the right led to the second floor where Viktor could just make out the sounds of Yurio and Otabek. Bold designs and prints decorated the clothing on each rack, leopard and tiger print featuring prominently. Most of the pants were skinny jeans, some with holes and studded spikes. There was really no other way to put it: the place was the mecca of teen angst and punk fashion.
Definitely right up Yurio’s alley.
Yuuri smiled slightly as he took it all in. He had to be thinking the same thing.
“I’ll have to remember this place,” he whispered, a hint of amusement tinging his voice, “it’s practically the holy grail of gifts for him.”
Viktor opened his mouth, ready to reply his affirmative, when the sounds of Yurio and Otabek from the upper level grew more distinct.
“I know I already have this sweater in blue, but it’s just so freaking cool,” Yurio gushed, too enthralled with the garment and Otabek as he descended the steps to notice Viktor and Yuuri.
As much as Viktor wanted to reveal themselves, he still wanted more time to observe Otabek. He needed to see what the boy was like when he wasn’t around. Viktor had high standards for his future son in law, after all.
Viktor started to bolt, but it was Yuuri this time who grabbed his hand and hauled them to the back of the shop. They crouched behind a rack of sale items, eyes just peering over the brim as they watched Yurio and Otabek head to the register. The employee rang up the item and announced the price, and as Yurio was about to pay, Otabek held up a silent hand and stopped him.
“I’ll pay for this, Yura,” he said solemnly, like it was a duty of the highest honor.
Yurio gaped at him for a moment, eyebrows scrunching and face flushing, before he sputtered out protests.
“What? No way! I can’t let you do that!” he shouted, grasping the arm holding out the credit card. Otabek placed a calming hand on Yurio’s shoulder and turned fully to address him. Viktor couldn’t see his expression from this angle, only Yurio’s, but whatever expression he had must have been something. Yurio’s blush deepened.
“Consider it a late birthday present.”
Yurio blinked quickly and looked away, mumbling something Viktor couldn’t make out. It must have been an affirmative, though, because Otabek turned around and handed the employee his card, who looked rather amused by the exchange.
“That was really sweet,” Yuuri whispered beside him, and Viktor had to agree; it was pretty smooth. He had to give the boy some credit, even if part of him couldn’t help but whisper that it may be all part of some ulterior motive.
Viktor tensed a little when the two left, Yurio this time grasping Otabek’s hand, blushing as he turned his head away. A light smile inched across Otabek’s face, fleeting yet genuine, settling back quickly into his normal monotone expression. Viktor watched them leave the shop, eyes glued to the hand on the small of Yurio’s back.
The little niggling part of Viktor that worried about Yurio was admittedly less now, given Yuuri’s assurances and seeing how sweet Otabek was, but…
Viktor wasn’t completely satisfied just yet; he didn’t think he would be until he actually talked to the boy and gauged his intentions, but nevertheless, it was a step in the right direction. Yuuri turned to look at him, and with his quietly pleased expression, he appeared to be thinking along the same lines as well. Viktor smiled back sweetly. Surrounded by punk goth teen clothes, crouching down like delinquents, stalking their petulant son: there was nothing he could do with Yuuri that wasn’t fun.
“Ahem,” a sharp voice cut in.
Yuuri and Viktor spun around quickly, staring face to face with a pair of the tightest, ripped skinny jeans Viktor had ever seen. He tilted his head up slowly, trying to digest the person in front of him. With bright purple hair and patterned clothing overlain by chains, the boy looked like a literal embodiment of the store.
“You can’t stay in the store if you’re not going to buy something,” he declared, eyebrows raising steadily as he observed them sitting in the clothing rack, “So whatever you two were doing… well, you can’t do it here.”
Yuuri flushed at the insinuation. Viktor stood up swiftly.
“Ah, you don’t have to worry about us! My fiancée and I were just discussing what we wanted to buy,” he said cheerily, ignoring the skeptical look on the employee’s face. He walked up the boy and grabbed the closest item on the wall. “And look, here it is!” He thrusted the item in his hands, startling when Yuuri let out a quiet moan.
The boy turned the item over in his hands, lips thinning and face tightening. Viktor took a closer look.
Oh.
Well…everyone needed underwear, right? Even if it was a leopard printed binki bottom with – oh… with the word “sexy” printed in bold font on the back…
The teen closed his eyes briefly. “I don’t get payed enough for this,” he muttered quietly, stomping towards the register.
Yuuri continued to sputter. He was as red as he used to get back in those first few weeks that Viktor had arrived at his home. Viktor hid a smile. He hauled Yuuri to his feet, who apparently lost all of his muscle mobility due to his embarrassment, with no small amount of effort. His head rested against Viktor’s shoulder like a dead weight, waves of warm embarrassment leeching into his neck.
“Yuuri,” he whispered quietly in his ear, little breathy laughs coming out against his will, “I wouldn’t actually mind seeing you in those… in fact, I can think of some pretty good uses for them.”
Yuuri huffed against his shoulder, but Viktor could see his blush transmitting farther down his neck at the comment. Viktor smiled, squeezed him in a tight hug, then turned around to go buy the underwear.
Viktor and Yuuri walked down Nevsky Prospekt again, now the proud owners of leopard printed underwear. The blush had reduced drastically on Yuuri, but a faint amount remained, giving his skin a lovely, rosy glow.
They had lost sight of Yurio and Otabek, unfortunately, and at this point it was well into the afternoon. Yuuri had suggested that they stop for lunch, which was how they found themselves in a quaint little café, huddled in the corner of the outdoor seating, the little bag from Yurio’s store nestled under the table by their feet.
Yuuri took a bite of his sandwich, letting out a little exclamation at the taste. Viktor smiled over his drink, rather enthralled. Yuuri was always a site to behold when he ate food he really enjoyed.
Yuuri’s eyes shinned as he held out his sandwich. “Viktor, you have to try this.”
Viktor smiled as he grabbed it gingerly; Yuuri offering his food was an honor of the highest degree. Viktor took a bite, a loud “vkusno” leaving him subconsciously. “Mmm, this is delicious Yuuri!” he moaned thickly.
“Viktor Nikiforov?”
Viktor stiffened a little at the exclamation, swallowing the rest of the sandwich down quickly. He already felt his personality shift as he plastered on his public persona. Whoever this was probably wanted a picture and an autograph, at the very least, and Viktor was nothing if not accommodating when it came to his fans.
“Is that you?” the voice continued, and when Viktor turned to meet the source, he let out a little exclamation of his own.
Standing in front of him was an older man wrapped up in a several layers of scarves, dark sunglasses covering his face. It was obvious that he was trying to be discrete, but to Viktor, who knew Nikolai Plisetsky rather well, it came off as a bit ridiculous.
“Nikolai!” He greeted enthusiastically, shaking the man’s hand up and down as he stood up to greet him. “How are you?” It had been a while since Viktor had last seen the man, and despite their limited contact, they had a good relationship. Viktor privately suspected the man liked him because he could give him the occasional update on Yurio.
Nikolai smiled, crow’s feet crinkling the corners of his eyes. “I’m good, Viktor – A bit tired from traveling, but good,” he said warmly. His eyes landed on Yuuri, smile suddenly widening.
“And you must be Yuuri,” he noted, switching quickly to English, “I’m Yuri Plisetsky’s grandpa.”
Yuuri grinned, standing up to offer his hand. “Yes, sir. It’s nice to finally meet you. Yurio – ah, I mean Yuri, talks about you all the time,” he offered shyly.
Nikolai chuckled quietly. “I could say the same thing. Every time I talk to him it’s either ‘Viktor this’ or ‘Yuuri that’ or ‘You wouldn’t believe what the three of us did the other day’”.
Viktor clutched his chest at the words. He was an old man; there was only so much his poor heart could take. Yurio talked about them? In a positive way? Viktor couldn’t wait to bring that up in front of him!
“R-really?” Yuuri asked, a delighted look on his face.
“Oh yes. You two are a main topic of conversation,” he laughed, “Although…” he trailed off, laughs abating as a new thought came to him, “recently there’s been someone else on Yurochka’s mind…” he said gruffly.
For a moment, Viktor frowned, mentally scanning everyone at the rink. Who could he be –
Oh. Nikolai being in St. Petersburg suddenly made a lot of sense now.
“So you’re here to stalk Yura too!”
“Viktor!” Yuuri admonished.
“Yes that’s right,” Nikolai interjected, not even bothering to deny it. “I grew suspicious when Yurochka’s phone calls were dominated by that Altin boy, but when he stuttered about meeting up with him for the first time this week… well, I couldn’t just leave him to face that on his own.”
Viktor perked up, finding solace in a comrade. “Right? That’s what I’ve been trying to tell Yuuri!”
Nikolai’s brow settled into a heavy frown as Yuuri let out a huff. “So far that boy has actually been quite the gentleman: buying Yura gifts, holding open doors for him, fending off a few of his rabid fans... “he shrugged wistfully, “but that doesn’t make this any easier,” he admitted.
Viktor’s smile faltered. “No, it doesn’t.”
Yuuri cleared his throat a little awkwardly after a silence stretched out for a few moments. “Yurio’s growing up. I know it’s probably hard for you two to see it, – I mean, you’ve known him since he was a little boy – but Yurio’s not a little kid anymore; he’s sixteen now,” he said tentatively, gaining confidence the more he spoke. “I’ve only known him for a year now, but I can tell you that he’s so different than the punk I met in the bathroom at the Grand Prix.”
Viktor’s heart clenched. He knew all of that deep down, but a naive little part of him had been denying it for the past few months, denying the obvious attraction between the two boys, beating it down until it remained buried in his subconscious. Yuuri’s words, though, bright and true, stripped those defenses bare, and now Viktor had no choice but to acknowledge those thoughts.
Nikolai shifted restlessly next to him; he had to be thinking the same thing.
“Yes- I-I suppose you’re right, Yuuri,” Nikolai offered, “Yura’s not the small little boy who begged me for his first pair of skates anymore…” He raised his head, posture righting itself, “but that doesn’t mean I’m going to let the Altin boy off so easily! I still plan to have a talk with him before long.”
Yuuri smiled at the older man, then turned to Viktor to gauge his reaction. Viktor gave him a sad smile, trying his best to communicate his acceptance with the situation.
Yuuri’s eyes turned understanding. Giving his arm a sympathetic squeeze, he turned to address Nikolai. “Would you like to eat with us?” he asked, gesturing to their table.
Nikolai smiled. “That would be great.” He turned to Viktor and gave him a wink. “After all, we need to exchange all the information we’ve gathered so far about Altin.”
Yuuri groaned softly, defeated, and as they settled into their booth to finish their meal, Viktor could honestly say that he felt more at peace than he had felt all week.
An hour had passed in good company. After exchanging every known detail of what Viktor dubbed Operation: Boyfriend Screening to each other, the conversation had slowly evolved into cute stories about Yurio’s childhood, stories that would probably get Viktor and Yuuri a tongue lashing if Yurio ever found out, but Viktor was too enthralled to care. This was high quality content that he rarely had access to; he’d take all he could get while he could.
A warped glass wall separated their booth from one directly beside them, so they were unable to identify the couple that suddenly sat next to them. Besides, Viktor was rather preoccupied with the thoughts of a young Yurio to really take note.
“Beka! Why didn’t you tell me you DJ?” a loud voice yelled, dissolving Viktor’s image of an adorable, rosy faced Yurio rather quickly. He startled, nearly spilling his glass of water down his front.
That was Yurio’s yell; he knew it quite well, having been on the receiving end more times than he could count. Viktor met Yuuri and Nikolai’s surprised gaze. Surreptitiously, the three glanced over to the dividing wall. All they could make out were two amorphous figures seated across from each other at the table, but with that bright blond mop combined with the voice, there was no denying that it was them.
“It never came up,” Otabek replied calmly, a rather shocking antithesis to Yurio’s loud shout. “Besides, I wanted to keep my gift a surprise.”
“G-gift? But you already got me the sweater!” Yurio blurted, voice shaking slightly. Viktor had to agree with Yurio. What else did Otabek get him? A little chill settled over him as his thoughts began to spiral. What terrible, untoward things did he get him? Leopard printed underwear? Or… Viktor shuddered internally, lube? It was certainly okay for Viktor to buy that for Yuuri; they were fiancées, after all, but if Otabek got him that? Well… let’s just say there would be one less contestant at the World’s this year…
Rustling on the other end jolted Viktor out of his lurid speculations. Otabek stilled, holding out what had to be a wrapped parcel. Viktor heard Yurio exhale shakily before grabbing the package and ripping it open.
It was quite on the other end.
Oh god.
It was lube, wasn’t it?
Viktor shifted agitatedly in his chair now, drawing attention as it squeaked and protested his movement. Yuuri threw him a warning look, eyes widening significantly behind his glasses.
“B-beka…” Yurio trailed off, clearly shocked.
Otabek cleared his throat stiffly. This was the first time Viktor noted any sign of nervousness in the other boy.
“I know you like that band, Nuclear Suicide. You skated to one of their songs for your exhibition skate,” he offered quietly. Yurio remained silent. Otabek swallowed, words coming out a little faster as he continued. “I figured I’d make you a playlist of their songs – songs that I remixed.”
Viktor deflated. Oh, thank god. Not anything unsavory. Just a mixtape.
The silence pervaded for a few moments. Viktor, much more relaxed now, locked eyes on the blurry blonde figure on the other side, anticipatingly awaiting his reaction.
A choked sound broke the quiet before Yurio surged forward, pulling Otabek in for an impromptu kiss, releasing him roughly.
Viktor couldn’t help it; he squawked. Loudly. And he may or may not have smashed his face against the side of the glass in his shock.
Pressed against the warped glass, he could make out a few more details, like the sandwiches they ordered, the CD on the table, and… and Yurio’s outraged face.
“W-What are you doing here, Viktor?” Yurio screeched, face flushing red for an entirely different reason. He leaned close to the glass so he could get a better look at his face. He squinted. “Is that Katsudon? And – and Grandpa?” Yurio’s face was now also smashed against the glass.
“Hello Yuratchaka. It’s good to see you,” Nikolai said warmly, already entering grandpa mode as soon as Yurio had acknowledged them. Viktor scoffed internally; he would be let off the hook easily. Viktor and Yuuri, though, were another story.
Yuuri laughed awkwardly. “How about we talk without glass in front of us.” Viktor unstuck his face, and as the three shuffled guiltily to the other side, he let out a heart shaped smile.
“I have to say, Yura, that after studying you two all day, I approve of Otabek!” he said cheerily, ignoring the growls directed his way, “but I insist that you keep the kissing to a minimum while your fathers and grandpa are nearby,” he said seriously. Otabek met his eyes solemnly, inclining his head a little.
“Of course. We’ll be more discrete next time.”
Yurio sputtered indignantly for a few moments, blushing furiously.
“You’ve been following us all day?!” he blurted, apparently choosing to ignore Otabek’s comment. “All of you?”
Ah. Why did he have to fixate on that one particular detail?
Yuuri shifted next to him. “Yurio, you have to understand that we were just worried -”
“I don’t care what you have to say, Katsudon!”
Yuuri shut his mouth with an audible click. “Yurio, be nice to your father!” Viktor admonished.
Yurio huffed. “For the last time, you two aren’t my goddamn parents –” he began, ready to rehash the time worn argument.
“Yura, you didn’t know they were following us?” Otabek asked quietly, effectively silencing Yurio quicker than Viktor had ever seen. He appraised the teen; he’d have to ask him how he did that.
“You knew?”
Otabek gave him a blank look. “They aren’t very subtle, Yura. I’m surprised you didn’t realize.”
Yurio frowned, crossing his arms petulantly. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he demanded.
Viktor’s eyes widened when a light blush dusted across Otabek’s cheeks. He inhaled sharply before responding. “I suppose I wanted to make a good impression on your family,” he said quietly.
Oh. Viktor’s heart thumped quickly. That was really sweet. If the final nail in Operation: Make Sure Otabek is Yurio’s Boyfriend coffin hadn’t already been set, that last comment would have done it for sure.
Apparently Yurio thought so too, because his blush returned at full force. It really was a cute sight. The two, equally red, gazed at each other beseechingly, seemingly forgetting the three other people watching them. Yurio grasped Otabek’s hand quickly.
“I-I guess that’s okay then.” The two smiled at each other softly. Viktor was a hopeless romantic at heart, so it was as plain as day that the two were rather helplessly enthralled with each other. It looked like he may be getting a son in law sooner than he thought…
Clasping his hands in front of him, Viktor spoke, jolting the two out of their trance. “Otabek, Yurio, you have to come over for dinner tonight! Yuuri is making borscht! And of course, Nikolai will come as well, won’t you?” He turned towards Nikolai, who gave a quick nod.
“I’m all tuckered out from driving. A home cooked meal could do me good.”
“Fantastic!” Viktor cheered. He looked at the new couple.
Yurio eyes lingered over his grandpa, turning rather soft the longer he gazed. He glanced at Yuuri and Viktor, giving them a slightly more annoyed look, but the affection was still clearly there. Otabek squeezed his hand.
“Yura, I’d like to go. I want to meet your family.”
Yurio turned quickly. “O-oh, okay,” he replied, enthralled once again. He turned to address the three, recovering from his absentmindedness a little. “Yes, we’d like that.”
Viktor cheered again, telling the two to meet them in their apartment for dinner. Nikolai departed, explaining that’d he’d meet them at the apartment after he did some shopping of his own. Just as Yuuri and Viktor were about to leave, he grabbed Otabek’s shoulder.
“Now Otabek, I expect you to have Yurio home for dinner by seven,” he said earnestly. Otabek nodded quickly, face grave. “Of course, sir,” he replied treating the simple task like a time-honored mission.
Viktor nodded back just as seriously, ignoring the sounds of Yurio’s squawks, rather enjoying his new parental duty. He turned to him suddenly, a lovely thought occurring to him.
“And Yura, I’m so glad you’re starting to accept Yuuri and me as your fathers!”
“What? No way, idiot! I’ve told you a million times that –”
“But Yurio,” Yuuri interjected, a teasing smile on his face, “you didn’t deny that we were a part of your family earlier when we invited you over.”
“That’s not – there’s no way -” He huffed, giving up trying to explain himself. He looked down in embarrassment before his face cleared.
“Katsudon… did you buy something from Metal Stripes?”
Yuuri jolted, looking down at the bag like he just remembered that it was there. Viktor eyed him with amusement. How would he manage to get out of this?
“T-this?” he stuttered, “No, of course not. It’s … it’s a future gift for you, Yurio!” he announced, unable to hide the nerves in his voice.
Yurio’s face turned skeptical. “My birthday was last week, pig. You already gave me your gift.”
“Umm –”
Curiosity piqued, Yurio launched himself at the bag and upended the contents. He stared at the it for a few seconds, trying to process the admittedly strange image. There really was no way around it: sitting in the middle of the sidewalk, in all its glory, sat Yuuri’s newly acquired sexy leopard print underwear.
“Huh?!”
“Yurio!” Yuuri gasped, arms flapping frantically, “It’s not what it looks like I swear -“
“Oh my god, oh my god!” Yurio pressed hands to his eyes. “I can’t believe I just saw that! You two are so gross, oh my god!”
Yuuri wilted in embarrassment as Viktor laughed heartily, head thrown back in joy.
He clasped Yuuri’s hand, ignoring both his sputtering and the sounds of Yurio’s loud, theatrical retching. He had to admit, Yurio certainly knew how the pick them. Otabek had an amazing effect on him, rounding out and smoothing some of his harsh edges. Viktor couldn’t wait to see how the two progressed. And of course, he couldn’t wait to tease Yurio along the way.
It was his parental duty, after all, which Viktor had no intention of slacking on.
Yes. Their new relationship would be very interesting, indeed.