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Victor’s never been in love.
Sure, he’s had flings over the years, short, temperate relationships that fizzled out before they really began, but he’s never felt anything close to what all those sappy, romantic songs talk about. No butterflies in the pit of his stomach, no talking on the phone into the early hours of the morning, no pining for someone he can’t have. He can count on one hand the amount of times he’s been on a second date, and he’s never been on a third.
Ultimately, Victor’s decided that people are simply boring, and that’s the last thing he needs when his life is already an ocean of monotony. Every day is the same, a cycle of going to class, working at Yakov’s Flower Emporium, and skating whenever he’s able. He can wake up in the morning and know exactly what he’s going to do and who he’s going to see. Nothing’s exciting anymore and hasn’t been for a long time. The last thing he needs is a bland romantic life to match, and after years of messy one night stands and unfulfilling coffee dates, Victor’s resigned himself to the fact that for now, at least, he’s better off alone.
But then gelato boy comes along and Victor suddenly finds himself questioning everything.
It was three months ago when Victor saw gelato boy for the first time. He’s fixing the arrangements for the flower shop’s front counter display when he glances up and sees a guy who takes his breath away. The boy is casually standing in Celestino’s, the gelato shop that popped up about a year ago, looking out of place behind the counter. His black hair is unruly, swooping across his forehead and falling in front of a pair of half-rimmed, blue glasses. His hip is cocked out to the side and he’s wringing his hands together, only stopping when Celestino appears from the back room and hands him one of the shop’s obnoxious, lime green aprons to wear. The boy takes it with a devastatingly beautiful smile then loops it over his head, laughing when it catches on his ear.
Adorable, Victor thinks.
He ends up discreetly watching the boy for the rest of his shift. When Yakov asks for a volunteer to water the window boxes, Victor raises his hand before anyone else can get a word in edgewise, because he knows he can sneak glances at the boy while he does it. When he is assigned desk duty, Victor finds himself more entertained by the boy taking notes on gelato flavors than doing his own work. And when he is closing up for the day, Victor nearly burns down the building when he knocks a candle over and sets a pile of business cards on fire, too distracted by the boy swaying his hips to a song Victor can’t hear.
Needless to say, Victor is one-hundred percent smitten, and the following weeks are filled with his pathetic, lovelorn pining. It seems like nobody can escape his bemoaning over “gelato boy,” as they’ve all come to refer to Celestino’s mystery worker. If Victor isn’t talking about gelato boy, then he’s doodling pictures of him on discarded receipts. If he’s not doodling, then he’s making heart eyes at him through the window. And if he’s not making heart eyes, then he’s finding any excuse to work by front desk where he can have clear view of Celestino’s.
It’s ridiculous, enough that his coworkers intervene.
He’s walking towards the flower shop’s alley to toss out a bag of clippings when strong hands grab his shoulders and yank him into the employee break room. Victor’s eyes fly around the space, trying to put a face to the grip, and lets out a surprised laugh when he finds Georgi there, looking utterly annoyed.
“What’s going on?” Victor asks cheerfully.
Gerogi grunts once and turns him around before letting go. Mila, Yuri, and Christophe are plopped down on the break room’s pleather couch, feet kicked up on the wooden table in front of them. Yuri’s engrossed in his phone, but Mila and Christophe are looking at Victor solemnly.
“Oh crap,” he mutters under his breath.
“Victor,” Mila begins, getting up from her place on the couch. “We need to talk to you.”
“About what?” he asks, even though he already knows the answer.
“You’re being gross!” Yuri exclaims, tossing his phone onto the table. He jolts up and stomps over to Victor, then jabs his finger at Victor’s chest. “If I see you drooling over gelato boy one more time I’m gonna kick you, asshole.”
“What Yuri means,” Christophe interjects, “is that you’ve been a pining mess for months and it’s getting quite unbearable.” He walks over to Victor and slings his arm around his shoulders, smiling slightly. “It’s like watching a sad puppy.”
Victor ducks out from under Chris’s grasp and crosses his arms over his middle. The ‘ding!’ of their front door rings out from the front, and Georgi scrambles from his place, escaping this impromptu, uncomfortable intervention.
When he’s clearly out of sight, Chris hums under his breath and brings a finger up to rest against his chin. “You should go over there. Introduce yourself to that gelato boy of yours.”
“Me?”
“He has a point,” Mila muses, brow furrowed as she thinks. “Yakov’s gone for the day, and you know we wouldn’t mind.” She glances around the room and finds a vase filled with roses sitting on top of their grimy microwave, then plucks one from the arrangement and offers it to Victor. “Go forth and get laid.”
“What? No!” Victor cries out. The rose drops to the ground when he doesn’t take it and Chris tsks under his breath.
“Victor, how long has it been?” Chris asks, eyebrow raised.
He rubs the back of his neck and avoids Chris’s gaze. “Chris–”
“How. Long. Has. It. Been?”
“...A year.”
“A ye–oh, Vitya.” Chris looks him up and down before smirking. “You need this.”
“No, I don’t,” Victor replies. He grabs the broom that’s leaning up against a nearby wall and absentmindedly begins sweeping the dirt-caked floor.
“You really do,” Mila chimes.
“She’s not wrong,” Chris interjects.
“You’re all disgusting,” Yuri mutters under his breath before plucking his phone from his pocket and scrolling through his text messages. “But if it’ll get you to stop being a lovesick idiot, maybe they’re right.”
Victor’s hands still on the broom’s handle and he leans his weight against it. “It’s not like that,” he says.
“How is it not like that?” Mila questions. “He’s all you’ve been talking about for months.”
He glances down at his feet and pulls his bottom lip between his front teeth. How does he explain it? When he looks at gelato boy, what he feels isn’t lust, or a desire to sleep with him once and never talk again. No, it goes beyond that. When gelato boy is working and Victor is watching, it’s like he can envision an entire future. He sees gelato boy talking animatedly with his coworkers and imagines himself there instead. He looks on as gelato boy nods off on slow days and wonders what it would be like to lay a pillow under his head. He feels his skin heat when gelato boy dances around the store at night and considers what he’d say if he went over there and joined him.
But he doesn’t admit to any of this. Instead, he just shrugs his shoulders and leans his broom back against the wall once more, trying his best to look like he isn’t completely distraught.
It doesn’t work. Mila raises an eyebrow at him and purses her lips; Victor immediately feels nervous. He knows that look. She’s plotting something.
“I’ll be right back,” she says with a conspiratorial smile.
“What is she up to?” Chris asks as Mila leaves the room in a flash, disappearing around the corner.
“The hell if I know,” Victor mutters. “Knowing her, it can’t be anything good.”
A loud crash rings out from the front of the store, followed by Georgi’s loud, incessant Russian cursing. Yuri rolls his eyes and gets up to go assist, leaving only Chris with him in the room.
“I should go help,” Victor says, but gets two feet before Chris’s fingers catch on the hem of Victor’s shop apron and pulls him backwards.
“Yuri can handle it just fine,” Chris assures. “Besides, aren’t you curious what Mila’s coming up with?”
“Of course he is!” Mila says as she sweeps back into the room. In her hand are three roses, one pink, one white, one red, missing most of their petals. They’re tied together with a thin, burlap string, and a blank tag is attached. “My idea is perfect, after all.”
Victor eyes the flowers warily and crosses his ankles. “What is that?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” Mila says with a laugh. “If you’re not going to talk to gelato boy in person, you should at least do it in writing.” She plucks a pen from her apron pocket and hands it to Victor. “Become his secret admirer. Leave him notes and flowers. And then, when the time is right, introduce yourself.”
Victor lets his gaze fall to the floor. Mila’s plan is ridiculous, absurd. It will take an incredible amount of planning; he’ll have to wait until everyone was gone and nobody is in sight, then will have to place his gift somewhere gelato boy will find it. The flowers will have to come from the discarded pile— he is a broke college student after all, and there is no way Yakov will donate to this cause— and then there is the matter of writing something charming on the notes he leaves. The whole charade will have to go on for at least a few weeks before he can reveal himself, maybe months, if he is truly being ambitious. And who knows if gelato boy will even accept him in the end? It is terrible, over-the-top plan that has failure written all over.
Victor loves it.
“Hand me those flowers,” he says with quirked up lips. “And your pen, too.”
Mila does as told and gleams back at him. “You’re really going to do this?” she asks excitedly.
Victor nods and plops down on the floor. He pops off the pen’s cap and places the flowers and card on the table. “It’s a good plan, Mila. I just hope it will work.”
“Of course it will work,” Chris practically mewls from behind him. “It’s very romantic, you know. Perfect beginning to a long, sensual-”
“Shut up, Chris!”
Yuuri never meant to get a job at Celestino’s. It just kinda...happened. One day he’s visiting Phichit and Yuuko, only to find his friends up to their arms in customers, a frantic look in their eyes as they try to remember the orders for an entire football team. Yuuri doesn’t even think twice; he walks behind the counter and pulls on one of the spare aprons they have laying around and begins helping. It turns out that he’s a natural at customer service and knows Phichit and Yuuko well enough that they can work around each other flawlessly. By the time Celestino himself comes in to check on his business, the football team is sated and the little trio is smiling widely at their good work.
Celestino offers Yuuri a job that day. He accepts.
That was three months ago, and Yuuri’s never been happier. He loves working with Phichit and Yuuko each day, serving cups of gelato or Celestino’s signature espresso with his two closest friends by his side. He likes that it’s part of a routine, something he can always count on to stay the same, day in and day out.
He thinks of that today as he wanders the early morning streets, feet kicking up gravel as he walks towards work. The sun is gorgeous, rising just above the horizon and painting the sky in streaks of red and pink. It reflects off the shop windows as he makes his way through the winding alleyways and into downtown. Everything around him is peaceful, serene.
“Yuuri! Yuuri!”
Almost.
“What’s up, Yuuko?” Yuuri asks as he rounds the corner and finds his friend practically jumping up and down in front of Celestino’s.
Yuuko’s face is pulled up into a brilliantly wide grin. In her hand is a set of three roses, each one slightly disfigured, with an ink-filled tag attached.
“Look what I found outside the door,” she says with waggling eyebrows. “Looks like someone has a secret admirer.”
Yuuri wanders over to her side and nearly jumps out of his skin when she shoves the roses in his direction. He takes them warily and lets his fingers curl around the stems, skin paling when he reads the attached note.
Roses are red, your glasses are blue. I think I’m really into you!
xoxo V
“Who is V?” Yuuko teases, knocking her shoulder into Yuuri’s. “Is there someone special you haven’t told me about?”
“I have no idea,” Yuuri murmurs under his breath. His eyes scan the message again and again, trying to make sense of it all. The roses are obviously for him— he’s the only one who wears blue glasses at Celestino’s, after all— but why? He’s not one people flaunt over. He’s always been reserved and keeps to himself. His days are spent working and attending classes, and his nights are filled with leisure skating down at Ice Castle, or if he’s feeling adventurous, playing video games with Phichit. He doesn’t go to frat parties or drink or any of the other activities that would bring him into any sort of spotlight.
So it makes absolutely no sense as to why someone would leave him a secret admirer note.
“Maybe they’re looking for someone else?” Yuuri suggests after a long while.
“Who else wears blue glasses?” Yuuko challenges. She takes the flowers back from Yuuri’s hands and waves them in front of his face. “This is clearly for you.”
“What’s for Yuuri?” Phichit’s voice rings out as he appears from the back alley, fidgeting with his apron.
Yuuko turns in his direction and points dramatically at the flowers. “Yuuri’s got a secret admirer,” she says slyly.
Phichit’s eyes widen and he grabs the flowers from Yuuko’s hands. “No way!” he says as he reads the note for himself. When he’s finished, he hands the gift back to Yuuri and grins ferally. “Who’s V?”
“I don’t know!” Yuuri exclaims. He leans back on his heels. “Who could it possibly be?”
Phichit hums under his breath and brings a finger up to rest against his chin. “Hm, let’s think about this. What about...Vanessa? Y’know, that pushy girl from the rink?”
Yuuri’s already nodding in denial before Phichit can finish his thought. “She moved back to Chicago last month.”
“What about...Vlad? From our linguistics class?” Yuuko chimes in. “Or Violet from chemistry!”
“Victoria has been eyeing Yuuri all semester long,” Phichit adds. “Maybe it’s her.”
“No, she’s dating Ingrid,” Yuuko notes. “Oh! Oh! How about Vince? Or-”
Yuuri doesn’t know how long they go on for. After the fifth name is called out, he pushes past Phichit and Yuuko, opting to open the store and get everything ready for the day instead. He vaguely listens to them chatter on as he takes down chairs and does a quick rundown of their inventory, too caught up in his work to truly catch onto any of their words.
That is, until Phichit brings up him.
“What about flower boy?” Phichit asks.
Yuuri nearly drops the carafe of coffee he’s holding when that suggestion reaches his ears. He can feel his cheeks turn a brilliant, burning red and turns away from Phichit’s probing gaze.
“It’s not him,” Yuuri mumbles after a few seconds of quiet. “Of course it’s not him.”
“How can you be sure?” Phichit shoots back. “You don’t even know his name.”
Phichit isn’t wrong; he doesn’t know the name of his longtime crush, a beautiful boy who works at Yakov’s Flower Emporium. For months now— ever since his first day here, if he’s being honest— Yuuri’s been fascinated with the silver-haired florist who works across the street from Celestino’s. He’ll never forget seeing him for the first time. Yuuri’s training with Celestino, listening to his boss wax poetic about the wonders of gelato flavors, when he glances up and sees him. His eyes are blue and bright and beautiful, lit up like a thousand stars in the night, and his mouth is open wide, clearly laughing at whatever his redhaired coworker is saying.
Yuuri has never witnessed someone so beautiful before.
After that first day, Yuuri tells himself that he’ll focus, ignore “flower boy,” as Phichit has come to refer to him. He doesn’t need to be distracted by gorgeous florists when he is juggling an almost full-time job, classes, and competing in local figure skating competitions.
But— if his constant talking, swooning, and pining are anything to go by— that’s easier said than done.
“Yuuri?” Phichit asks when he doesn’t respond.
“It can’t be him,” Yuuri says again. He turns back to his carafe and fills up three mugs with steaming coffee, then slides them across the counter towards Phichit and Yuuko. “It just can’t.”
“But...why?” Yuuko asks, eyes widening.
Yuuri lets out a quick, humorless laugh. “Because I’m me! I...I’m not…and he’s-”
“Yuuri, calm down!” Yuuko exclaims. She walks over to his side and rests a palm on his shoulder, grounding him. “Do you really think flower boy couldn’t be interested in you?” When he nods, Yuuko just laughs. “Okay, then clearly you don’t see the way people look at you.”
“What do you mean?” he says.
“Do you know how many people ask for you when you’re not working? How many times I’ve heard girls and guys comment on how attractive you are?” She claps Yuuri on the back. “If I had a nickle for every time I’ve heard someone call you hot, I’d be rich.”
“Agreed,” Phichit says from across the store.
Yuuri blushes and turns away. “That’s ridiculous.”
“It really isn’t,” Yuuko says. “And if those people want a piece of you, I’m sure flower boy does too.”
As if on cue, a loud crash rings from outside. Yuuri glances out the window and feels his pulse pick up speed when he finds flower boy bent towards the ground, picking up a pile of peonies the he dropped. His hair is falling in his eyes and his mouth is moving at a rapid pace, most likely muttering obscenities, if Yuuri had to guess.
Yuuko knocks him on the back of his head when she catches him staring. “You know there’s only one way to find out who your secret admirer is for sure,” she says.
“How?” Yuuri asks, but Yuuko’s already waltzing away from him, beelining for a line of plastic cups across the store. She plucks one of the larger cups from the pile then rummages around their work area until she comes up with a black pen.
“You’re going to write back, of course!” Yuuko exclaims brightly. She shoves the pen and cup across the counter until the lands in front of Yuuri’s untouched coffee. “We’ll leave your note where I found the flowers and hope your admirer responds.”
“No!” Yuuri exclaims.
“Why not?” Phichit ponders as he flips the ‘closed’ sign to ‘open’, then takes a sip of his coffee before pointing in Yuuri’s direction. “This admirer clearly likes you, and if they end up being creepy you can just say you’re not interested.”
“Because-”
“Because, what?”
“Because that’s not what I do!” Yuuri calls out. He leans back against the counter and looks at the ceiling. “Can we just ignore it? Pretend this never happened?”
Yuuko and Phichit look at each other with wary glances before Yuuko smiles kindly. “Yuuri, when’s the last time you got out of your comfort zone?” When he doesn’t answer, she giggles lightly and taps his shoulder. “If you can’t tell me, then maybe it’s time. Just...write back. It doesn’t have to be anything deeply personal, or a love declaration. Take a leap of faith.”
Yuuri toes the ground and shoves his hands into his pockets. Writing back is...ridiculous. Absurd. Not something he would ever do unprompted. But there’s a part of him, a tiny, flickering part, that wants to write back. He really doesn’t get out of his comfort zone that often, preferring to stick with familiar things and people, but it does lead to a boring life. When was the last time he truly was surprised by anything? Experienced something, or in this case, someone, new?
He can’t remember.
It’s then that Yuuri realizes that he needs to do this.
He plucks the cup and pen from the table. “I’ll write back,” he says. “But I don’t think anything is going to come of this.”
Phichit and Yuuko gleam at him, delight written all over their faces.
“You won’t regret this, Yuuri,” Yuuko says. “I promise.”
Yuuri just laughs and begins writing. “Hope you’re right.”
“What’s your name? That was gelato boy’s response? Lame.”
Victor looks up from the cup he’s holding to glare at Yuri. His coworker is putting together a bouquet for Lilia, their toughest and pickiest client. His eyes are trained on the piles of tulips set out in front of him, gaze appraising each one for perfection before he adds it to the arrangement.
“It’s not lame,” Victor shoots back. “It’s a valid question.”
“No, it’s lame,” Yuri responds. “Sure you want to waste another note on this guy? He seems like a loser.”
Victor glances down at the calla lilies he’s tying together and frowns. How can Yuri not get it? When he left those flowers outside Celestino’s, he was just hoping they wouldn’t get taken in the night. He was delighted when he saw his gift laying on the counter of Celestino’s, and nearly imploded when he found a large gelato cup left in the exact place he’d delivered the flowers.
Sure, he was hoping for something more romantic than ‘What is your name?’, but for now, he’ll take what he can get.
“He’s not a loser, Yuri,” Victor says in a soft voice. “He’s beautiful and perfect and-”
“Are you hearing yourself?” Yuri exclaims, tossing the flowers he’s holding down onto the table. He fixes an icy glare on Victor and hikes his thumb in the direction of Celestino’s. “You don’t even know him! What if he ends up being a jerk? Or breaking your heart?”
Victor’s fingers still on the string he’s tying. “I can only hope he isn’t,” he responds. “I can’t explain it, but I have a good feeling about him.”
“Ugh,” Yuri spits. “You’re impossible.”
Victor smiles to himself as he finishes off his arrangement and attaches his new note. These flowers are in better shape than his last gift; they’re pearly white with violet insides, only discarded because Yuri cut them too short for a real bouquet. He feels his heart race when he thinks about what response he’ll get in return this time around, and finds himself glancing towards Celestino’s. Gelato boy is working the counter, caught up in a lively conversation with his coworkers. The girl is giggling into her hands, and the boy is clearly disgruntled yet amused, as if gelato boy poked fun at him. But Victor’s true attention is caught by gelato boy himself; he’s practically glowing today, brown eyes alight with a fire he hasn’t seen in them before.
He only tears his gaze away when a flash of red flies into his vision and hits him in the forehead. Victor glances down and sees the offending tulip resting on the table, a scrawly note attached.
Get back to work, asshole!
Victor turns towards Yuri and smirks. “You really didn’t have to do that.”
“I think I did,” Yuri snorts under his breath. “You’d just keep drooling all over otherwise.”
Victor perks up at that and blushes when he indeed finds a dribble of drool peeking out from the corner of his mouth. He turns away from the window and brushes it away nonchalantly before returning to his work, a new blush coloring his cheeks.
“My name is Victor. What is yours?” Phichit reads aloud the next morning, newly found gift in his hands. “What do you think of that, Yuuri?”
Yuuri is cleaning off the counter of spilled espresso beans, his mind wandering. Victor. His secret admirer has a name, and his mind is already imagining what he looks like. Is his hair dark or light? Are his eyes cold or warm? Is he tall? Short? There’s so many possibilities out there.
And yet he can’t help but find himself thinking of silver hair, falling into a pair of cerulean eyes. A heart shaped smile, accenting brilliantly white teeth.
He’s so screwed.
“...Yuuri? Are you okay?” Phichit chimes in when he doesn’t respond.
Yuuri looks up from his work and blinks a few times, bringing himself back into the present. “Uh, yes. I’m fine,” he mumbles out. “It’s just, weird? Having a name but no face to go off of.”
Phichit shrugs and rolls his shoulders. He places the flowers and attached note behind their work station and picks up a broom that’s laying against the wall, opting to help Yuuri clean instead of pondering the gift. “It’s better than nothing, though,” he points out. Then, “Are you going to write back?”
Yuuri’s hands still on the counter, bottom lip slipping between the perch of his front teeth. “I don’t know,” Yuuri says after a long while. “I really don’t know.”
Phichit frowns at him and stops sweeping the floor. “Why not?”
Yuuri shrugs. How can he explain how he feels? He wants to write back, he really does, but old tendrils of doubt curled into his mind last night as he lay in bed, staring at the ceiling of his bedroom. What would happen if this continues on? What if they grow closer and Yuuri finds himself falling? What if they meet in person one day and Victor is incredibly disappointed in what he finds? What if Yuuri gets his heart broken?
Or what if he can’t let go of flower boy? What if he finds himself enamored by Victor but still feels this deep, unexplainable affection for his favorite florist?
He’s so confused.
“Hey,” Phichit says when he finds Yuuri clearly unraveling. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. You know that.”
“Yeah, I know,” Yuuri murmurs back. “I’m just...debating, is all.”
Phichit nods tersely and puts his broom back where he found it, opting to grab a gelato cup and pen instead. He places it by Yuuri’s side and pats him on the back.
“I think Yuuko was right,” Phichit says. “This could be a great thing for you and I don’t think you should throw this all away just yet.” He nods once before beginning to walk towards the break room. “Think it over!” he calls as he disappears around a corner.
Yuuri turns towards the cup and pen, grasping them in his hand. His mind is racing and he can feel sweat beginning to bead on his forehead. He knows Phichit’s right; when is he not? But he can’t help but wonder if writing to Victor will be a mistake or not. It could go terribly wrong, be an utter disaster.
But it also could be the best thing that’s ever happened to him.
Before he can turn back, Yuuri jots down his response on the cup, hoping that he is making the right choice.
“Yuuri,” Victor breathes out, wide grin appearing on his lips. “His name is Yuuri!”
“Whose name is Yuuri?” Chris asks as he pops his head into the break room where Victor is sitting, eyebrow raised in question.
“Gelato boy,” Victor says. “Yuuri. I know his name.”
Chris saunters in and cocks his hip out to the side. “What else did the note say?”
“He asked if I had any pets,” Victor says with a laugh. “Oh man, I’ll have to write him a novel about Makkachin.”
“Hm,” Chris says under his breath, pursing his lips. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re already planning a wedding with this Yuuri.”
Victor winks. “Who says I’m not?”
Chris sighs and backs away. “Don’t scare him off now, Victor. I know how you get when you talk about Makkachin.”
“No promises!” Victor calls, but Chris has already left the room.
He can’t help but smile. Yuuri. What a glorious name.
The next morning, Yuuri doesn’t find flowers. Instead he picks up a manila envelope filled with tiny, purple petals, along with a letter penned in beautiful cursive. The note talks in great detail about Victor’s poodle, Makkachin, along with questions about everything he could possibly want to know about Yuuri. Is he a college student too? What university does he go to? Does he have any pets of his own?
Yuuri grins when he reads all of Victor’s long, rambling questions, then pulls out a thin piece of scrap paper during his break to pen his response. He talks about his classes, what he plans to do with his English writing degree, and of course, Vicchan. He vaguely lets his thoughts drift to flower boy as he writes, wonders what it would be like if he was the one reading this, but then he scolds himself and finishes off the letter with his shaky signature.
At the end of his shift, Yuuri slips the letter outside the door and walks home feeling as light as air.
Victor finds Yuuri’s letter perched on top of Celestino’s welcome mat after he closes up Yakov’s. He glances around to be sure no one is looking, then picks it in a flourish, grinning when a few leftover petals fall out with the paper. He devours Yuuri’s words as he walks home, feeling brilliant, bright affection bloom in his gut. Cicadas chirp in the hazy night, a perfect melody to Yuuri’s beautiful writing, and once he steps through his door, Victor beelines for his desk and pulls out his long abandoned stationery, letting his thoughts pour out onto the pages.
When he’s finished, Victor walks out into his lawn and pulls three golden dandelions from the ground. He places them with his letter and slips back out towards Celestino’s, letting his new gift rest against the building before scampering off again.
That night when Victor closes his eyes, he dreams of him and Yuuri running through a field of flowers, hands clasped together as the wind blows through their hair.
It’s the best he’s slept in ages.
The letter exchange goes on for months.
At first, Yuuri’s positive that this will all fade out. They will run out of things to talk about. Victor will get tired of the charade and will realize Yuuri isn’t worth the effort. Yuuri will let his anxieties slip through and he’ll stop replying to the letters.
But that never happens. Instead, hearing from Victor becomes an integral part of Yuuri’s day. He’ll get up in the morning knowing full well that a now-rugged manila envelope will be waiting for him, either leaning against the doorway or tucked under their welcome mat. He’ll grab the letter with a smile and will plop down on one of the shop’s chairs, letting himself get lost in Victor’s world before he begins working for the day.
Phichit teases him for it, says that he is acting like a lovesick puppy. Yuuko just smiles as if she knows something he doesn’t and says that she’s happy for him.
The letters get deeper as time goes on. What begins as frivolous conversation about their mutual love of poodles transforms into pages upon pages of personal thoughts. Somewhere along the line, Yuuri starts trusting Victor with his biggest secrets, things only Phichit and Yuuko know about. He speaks candidly about his long battle with anxiety, explicitly saying how sometimes it’s tough to face the day and not be afraid. Victor responds by opening up about his own loneliness, realizing that even though he’s surrounded by friends and family every day, he still aches for something more. And Yuuri understands. He really does. It’s funny how much he gets it, connects with everything his admirer writes.
He doesn’t know when he starts falling for Victor. Maybe it’s after a few months, maybe it’s sooner than that. All Yuuri knows is that somewhere down the line, he’s become entranced by Victor’s words, lost himself to his tales one time too many. When he finds Victor’s letters at Celestino’s, his heart flutters in his chest. When he reads them, his skin heats up and he can’t stop grinning. He’s never felt like this before. It’s intoxicating. Overwhelming. All consuming.
He thinks it may be love.
That realization does not scare Yuuri like he thought it would. Instead, it only brings him peace. He has a word to describe his emotions, something tangible to hold on to. He revels in it, cherishes it.
Until the day Yuuko brings up the inevitable.
“So when are you going to meet him?” she asks as she reaches into the freezer, pulling out two tubs of lemon gelato.
“Me...meet?” he stammers out.
“Of course!” Yuuko says. “You can’t just keep writing to each other. I think you both know that.”
Yuuri looks down that the letter he is penning and grimaces. Of course he’s thought about asking Victor to meet. His last three letters were scrapped because he wrote down the question, only to get nervous and rip it up last minute.
He wants to meet Victor in person, he really does, but there’s still something that’s holding him back.
“Hey, Yuuri! Look at what flower boy is doing!” Phichit calls from the window.
Him.
Yuuri gets up from his chair and wanders over to where Phichit is gesturing wildly out the window. When Yuuri peers out, he finds flower boy twirling around in a circle, looking like a Disney princess with his daisies clutched between his fingers and his hair catching in the wind. It’s adorable, pure. Yuuri’s cheeks blush and butterflies explode in his gut when he takes it all in.
Then feels immediately guilty, because flower boy isn’t Victor. Flower boy isn’t the man he’s fallen in love with. Flower boy is an unexplored road, one that’s off limits now because he’s in love with Victor, the kind, amazing, beautiful man whose writing has brought Yuuri to his knees over and over again. He can’t keep thinking about flower boy in the ways he used to. It’s not fair.
But it’s almost impossible to separate the two now. Because he’s had no face to put with Victor, Yuuri has been envisioning flower boy when he thinks of Victor for months now. When he reads Victor’s letters, describing a night out with his friends or skating at his local ice club, Yuuri sees flower boy there, having a laugh or falling into a beautiful triple axel. When he thinks about Victor when he’s at work, or lying in bed at home, he sees flower boy in his mind, saying the words written in the piles of letters Yuuri has acquired. Without even trying, flower boy has become Victor, and Victor has become flower boy.
Which is why he can’t meet Victor, not yet. He needs to cleanse himself of flower boy first, rid himself of any feelings that may remain. No more glancing through the window during his work shifts, no more dreaming about him at night. He needs to go cold turkey for a few weeks, and then, then, he’ll be ready to meet Victor properly.
He won’t mess up the best thing that’s ever happened to him over one beautiful, unattainable creature.
“In a few weeks, I’m going to ask Victor to meet,” Yuuri says, leaving out his vow to swear off flower boy.
Phichit looks away from the window and focuses one of his bright smiles on Yuuri. “Really?” he says.
“Yes,” Yuuri replies. “It’s time, don’t you think?”
Yuuko wanders over from behind the counter and smiles kindly at him. “I’m so happy for you, Yuuri. It’s all going to be worth it.”
“Yeah,” Yuuri whispers, “I know.”
Three weeks later, Victor wanders by Celestino’s expecting to see a manila envelope. What he finds instead is an ivory envelope and pencil, his name penned in elegant calligraphy.
Curious, Victor grabs the letter and opens it. Inside isn’t Yuuri’s usual letter. No, instead it is an invitation, printed on thick paper. It reads:
You are cordially invited to the meeting of Katsuki Yuuri
This Friday, 8 PM
Lakota Docks
Please circle your RSVP below.
Yes | No
Victor circles ‘yes’ ten times.
On Friday, Yuuri is a nervous wreck.
For the first time in all of his months working for Celestino, he calls in sick and has Yuuko come over to calm him down. She placates him wonderfully, reminding him that Victor is worth it and that he won’t screw this up. He’s not sure if he believes her, but the encouragement is enough to get him out of his room, into his nicest jeans and a black button down, and to the docks.
Yuuri glances down at the watch he’s wearing. 7:58. Victor will be here any minute, and Yuuri feels as if he’s going to sweat through his clothes. His hands are clammy and his heart feels like it’s beating a thousand miles an hour. He can feel his toes curling inside of his boots and that panicky, fleeting desire to run pulses through him. It’s not too late, he thinks. He can leave a note for Victor, say to come back at another time-
“Hello?” a voice calls from behind him.
He freezes. Turns around.
And can’t believe who is waiting.
Flower boy is standing before him, looking completely out of place among the lines of boats and bait shacks. A bouquet, possibly the largest one Yuuri’s ever encountered, is resting in his palms. His eyes are calculating, cautious, even more beautiful in person.
Yuuri screams.
“What’s wrong?” flower boy exclaims, placing the bouquet on the ground so he can rush to Yuuri’s side.
“You can’t be here!” Yuuri cries out. “Not now, oh god, not now.”
“What do you mean?” he says.
“No, no no no no no,” Yuuri mumbles over and over again. “I spent the past month forgetting about you and now you’re here and I’m talking to you and it’s too much and Victor’s going to hate me-”
“Yuuri! Calm down!”
Yuuri stills, a new panic rising within him.
“How do you know my name?” he says, voice breaking through the quiet night air. “We’ve never met.”
Flower boy smiles at him and reaches into his coat. What he pulls out is letters, his letters, all paper clipped together in a neat pile.
“Haven’t we?” he ponders.
Yuuri glances back and forth between the letters and flower boy. No, he can’t be.
But he is.
“...Victor?” he says timidly.
Flower boy, Victor, waves. “Hi, Yuuri. Nice to finally meet you in person.”
Yuuri feels like he’s about to fall over. Victor is flower boy. Flower boy is Victor. It’s everything he’d ever dreamed but never thought possible.
“I...need to lay down,” Yuuri mumbles under his breath. He crouches down to the ground and sits at the edge of the dock, letting his legs dangle over the side.
Victor joins him immediately. “Are you okay?” he asks. “Do you need water?”
Yuuri shakes his head. “I just need a minute.”
Victor hums in response. “Okay,” he says.
They sit in silence for who knows how long. Yuuri’s eyes trace the stars above his head and Victor stays still by his side, fingers absentmindedly brushing the back of Yuuri’s arm. It’s a familiar gesture, a reminder that even if they haven’t met in person, they’ve known each other for months.
“Why didn’t you just come talk to me?” Yuuri asks after a few minutes of quiet between them. “We work right across the street from each other. It would have been easier than all of this.”
Victor laughs and Yuuri feels his chest flutter. “I didn’t know how to talk to you. I’d been admiring you through the shop windows ever since you began working at Celestino’s. You’re incredibly cute when you think nobody's watching.”
Yuuri groans. “I can only imagine what you saw.”
“Nothing too incriminating,” Victor replies, then turns sober once again. “So...how do you feel?”
Yuuri’s gaze catches on Victor’s and his entire body feels as if it’s on fire. His skin is dancing with goosebumps at Victor’s touch, his hair is sticking to his forehead from his nervous sweat. His lips are tingling as his eyes trace Victor’s mouth, wanting nothing more than to close the distance between them and show him just how much he loves him.
But instead of saying any of this, Yuuri just replies, “Weird.”
Victor blanches at that. “Weird?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Care to explain?”
Yuuri shrugs and lets out a breath of air. “I don’t know how to explain it,” he begins. “You may have been watching me, but I’ve also been watching you. When I was reading Victor’s, your, letters, I couldn’t stop imagining your face, even when I didn’t know it was you.”
“Huh?”
“I didn’t have a face to put with the letters, so I imagined you there.” He laughs humorlessly. “So you can see why I’m a little disoriented right now.”
Victor nods in understanding and tentatively pokes Yuuri’s hand, as if asking for permission to touch. Yuuri responds by raising his palm and twining his fingers with Victor’s, smiling down at the contact.
“You know,” Yuuri says quietly, “It’s still early. Do you want to go back into town? Talk?”
Victor eyes him up and down. “Like a date?”
“Yes, Victor. Like a date.”
Victor nods his head and gets up from the dock, dragging Yuuri with him. “I like that idea. There’s this great hot pot place down the road. Care for some food?”
Yuuri gestures towards the end of the dock, out into the gravel parking lot. “Lead the way.”
Victor pulls Yuuri along with a smile, practically running as he goes. The night wind catches in their hair and Yuuri lets out a laugh as it blows into his eyes, obscuring his vision as they wander along the path. Victor brushes it back with his fingers and the absolute adoration Yuuri finds in his gaze makes his knees weak.
The rest of the night is spent talking about everything and nothing at all. Victor explains the planning behind the elaborate secret admirer scheme, and Yuuri talks about all the times he’s been reprimanded from focusing on Victor instead of his work. They eat hot pot and giggle into their food, then wander along the empty streets until they can’t hide their yawns any longer. And when Victor brings Yuuri back to his apartment, Yuuri finds a flicker of confidence and kisses Victor with everything he has, melting when Victor runs his fingers through Yuuri’s hair and pushes them closer together, only breaking apart when Yuuri reminds him that they both have to work in the morning. He bids Victor a goodnight with plans to grab lunch later on, and thinks to himself that he is truly, absolutely blessed.
Three years later, Victor and Yuuri marry.
They exchange vows in a beautiful outdoor ceremony, only their closest friends and family in attendance. To the surprise of no one, they both get teary as they whisper their declarations of love to one another, Victor saying that there is nobody he could imagine loving more, and Yuuri saying that he could search the entire world and would find nobody better than Victor. And when they pull each other into a passionate, fiery kiss to seal the deal, applause rings out all around them (along with Chris’s obscene wolf whistle, which only cuts off when Yuri stomps on his foot.)
Now they’re swaying to an easy violin melody as they perform their first dance. It’s a beautiful image, one that Mila won’t soon forget. She already feels the tears reappearing in her eyes as she looks on and pats away the wetness with the back of her wrist.
All she’s ever wanted was to see Victor happy, and now he is.
“Can you believe our scheme actually worked?”
Mila turns around and smiles when she finds Yuuko standing behind her, looking beautiful in a simple, black cocktail dress. “I can’t believe they both bought it,” she replies with a laugh. “Seriously, I knew Victor was dramatic, but even I didn’t think he’d go for our secret admirer plan.”
“Please, you had the easy part!” Yuuko replies with the flip of her hand. “Convincing Yuuri to respond was like pulling teeth.”
Mila’s eyes soften and she feels the earlier, overjoyed tears beginning to well again. “I’m just glad it all worked out. They’re so fabulous together.”
“Yeah,” Yuuko says softly, eyes focusing on the swaying couple behind her. “They really are.”
“Yuuko? Do you ever think they’ll figure it out? That we orchestrated all of this?”
Yuuko shakes her head. “Please. They didn’t even realize we were long time friends until they started dating. Unless we tell them, I don’t think they ever will.” She nudges Mila’s arm with her elbow. “But I guess it doesn’t matter. Operation ‘get our pining friends together was a success, right?”
Mila flicks her gaze over to Victor and Yuuri. They’re completely lost in each other, acting as if they’re the only ones in the room. Victor’s hand rubs circles into Yuuri’s back, and Yuuri leaves a languid kiss on Victor’s lips in return.
“Yeah,” Mila whispers. “It was.”