Work Text:
Today was the day. Yuuri Katsuki, 23, from Hasetsu, Japan, was finally going to knock on the door of his crush. From the moment he had set eyes on Viktor Nikiforov, Yuuri’s heart had been taken. The 27-year-old Russian man was perfect. Long silvery hair, crystal clear blue eyes, and flawless skin. He was the most beautiful being Yuuri had ever seen. Unfortunately, that adoration led him to his current situation.
Yuuri was in a sad, sad state. He had been pining for the man since Viktor had moved in next door to him. Needless to say, having Viktor so close but yet so far was agonizing. It wasn’t that Viktor wasn’t friendly; quite the opposite. The man had this irresistible charm to him that made Yuuri’s heart clench painfully. To say Yuuri was in love was an understatement. He had no doubt that he would do anything for Viktor. The problem was, the other man hardly knew his name. Apart from a brief introduction when he had moved in, Yuuri hadn’t even really spoken to him.
That was okay, though. Yuuri had been gathering his courage for weeks to knock on Viktor’s door. As he stood before Apartment #224, a wave of panic hit him. What if Viktor thought he was weird? What if he hated him? Yuuri couldn’t stop worrying about what could possibly go wrong. His chest tightened, and he balled up his fists. No matter how afraid he was, today was the day, and he would not back down. He was going to knock on Viktor’s door, even if it killed him.
Taking a deep breath, he raised his arm and lightly rapped on the door in front of him. Yuuri’s heart was in his throat, hammering a mile a minute.
Silence.
Yuuri felt both sick with disappointment, but also relief. Perhaps Viktor wasn’t home. Then, he heard a rustle behind the door. A click, and the door swung open. Yuuri’s eyes widened in shock and he could feel his mouth dropping to the ground. There was no way this was happening. He must be dreaming.
Viktor Nikiforov, sleepily rubbing his eyes in front of Yuuri, was shirtless.
Yuuri’s eyes bugged out of his head. Viktor. Was. Shirtless.
“Yuuri?” the Russian man looked confused, sleepy blue eyes staring right at him.
“Ah, V-V-Viktor… I-I was w-wondering… bye!” Yuuri gulped, his eyes darting around, before trailing off. He wasn’t sure he could handle seeing Viktor shirtless. Without thinking, he rushed back to his own apartment, slamming the door behind him.
Viktor, still confused and half asleep, blinked blearily at where Yuuri had been standing. Viktor thought very little about the matter though, simply returning back to his room with a yawn.
Heart pounding, Yuuri buried his face in his hands. “Omigosh, omigosh, I just saw Viktor Nikiforov shirtless.” He took a few deep breaths to calm himself down.
“Okay, Yuuri. It’ll be fine.” He didn’t even believe himself. Slumping down to the ground, he buried his face in his knees, wishing his tiled floor would just open up and swallow him whole. He was forced out of his pity party when his cell phone rang. Standing up, Yuuri hurried to the device, pressing the “accept call” button.
“Yuuri! How’s your current article coming along?” His best friend’s voice rang out cheerfully from the other side of the line. Phichit always seemed to know exactly when to call and helped make Yuuri feel better.
“Well...truthfully, I can’t think of what to write about at all,” Yuuri admitted with a sigh. He was a journalist for a men’s fashion magazine, and earlier that week, his supervisor had told him to come up with a two page article to put in the next issue. The only problem was, said supervisor did not specify what the article should be about. Currently, Yuuri was struggling to come up with ideas.
“Hmm… Oh, I know! Why don’t you write about that crush of yours? Viktor Nikiforov.” Phichit suggested.
“Eh?” Yuuri nearly dropped his phone in shock at his friend’s suggestion. Writing an article about Viktor? “N-No, I can’t do that!”
“Why not?” His friend sounded confused.
Yuuri nervously pushed his glasses upwards. “W-well, it’s just… Viktor’s Viktor and I’m…”
“Yuuri, you’re a journalist. Don’t you deal with famous people all the time?”
“Yeah, but Viktor is...different.”
“Trust me, I know. You talk about him all the time!” Phichit laughed, making Yuuri blush profusely.
“P-Phichit!” He whined a little at his friend’s teasing.
“Really though, you should write about Viktor! It’d give you a great excuse to talk to him, and besides, he’s totally hot in the media right now. I’m surprised you haven’t told me that many stories about paparazzi yet.” the Thai man mused.
“Yeah, I’m surprised myself. There hasn’t been that much commotion around our apartment complex. I wonder why.” The more Yuuri thought about it, the stranger the situation seemed. How did Viktor escape all his fans and paparazzi to go to his apartment?
“Ah, look at the time! Sorry, Yuuri. I have to go. I’ll talk to you later, okay?” Yuuri was forcefully shaken from his thoughts by Phichit’s exclamation.
Saying his goodbyes to his friend, Yuuri tossed his phone onto his bed, crawling on it himself soon afterwards. Checking the time, he realized with a start that he had spent an entire hour talking to Phichit. It was getting to be about dinnertime, and he realized that his fridge was nearly empty. With a sigh, Yuuri dragged himself out of the bed and put on his shoes again. There was a convenience store down the street. He figured he would just buy a few bentos there. They didn’t have his favorite dish, Katsudon, but in his opinion, beggars couldn’t really be choosers.
Stepping out of his apartment, he was surprised to see Viktor leaving as well. Yuuri’s heart hammered loudly, and he feared the model would be able to hear it.
“Hello, Yuuri.” the Russian man greeted him with a smile.
“H-Hi, Viktor.”
“I was going to go out to eat dinner. Would you like to join me?” Viktor smiled, and Yuuri’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. Viktor was inviting him to dinner?
Yuuri wasn’t sure if this was a blessing or a curse. He didn’t even know why Viktor had invited him. His mind went back to Phichit suggestion, and he realized that it was a perfect opportunity to glean knowledge about his idol.
“Sure, I’ll join you.” His voice definitely sounded much more confident than Yuuri actually felt.
Viktor’s smile grew wider, and Yuuri felt his heart squeeze painfully. The man was just so...beautiful. Yuuri found himself staring, and blushed as he realized what he had been doing. Thankfully, Viktor didn’t say anything about it, and continued walking. Yuuri then noticed that they had long passed the convenience store.
“Where are we going?” he asked, a little confused.
“An amazing Italian restaurant run by my good friends.” Viktor answered with a beaming grin.
“O-Oh, okay.” Yuuri found himself unable to argue against his crush’s easy smile and shining blue eyes. Damn. He hoped the restaurant wouldn’t be too expensive.
As if reading Yuuri’s mind, Viktor turned to him. “It’s my treat, so don’t worry so much.”
Yuuri was shocked. Was this some sort of dream? Not only did Viktor invite him out to dinner, he was also paying for both of them.
About ten minutes later, they reached a large, very chic looking building. Yuuri wasn’t even sure if it was the restaurant until he saw the sign reading “Bellissima Famiglia”. It seemed to be connected to another building with a sign “Pagnotta Famiglia”.
“Here we are,” Viktor said, opening the door. Yuuri followed close behind him, and felt his eyes widening at the interior of the restaurant. The plush carpeting was a lush maroon color, with intricate golden swirls. There were many large, half-moon shaped booths of the same shade, and even more small wooden tables. The most amazing thing about the restaurant though, was the windows that spanned from floor to ceiling and gave a beautiful view of the city. The windows were slanted inwards and outwards, accentuating the very chic feeling of the restaurant.
A tan woman with dark brown hair and equally dark eyes greeted them as they stepped into Bellissima Famiglia. She smiled warmly, welcoming them to the restaurant.
“Hello Sara, a table for two please,” Viktor greeted the hostess, giving her a smile of his own.
“Of course! Follow me,” the woman called Sara led them to a small table with two chairs, seated next to one of the massive windows.
Yuuri and Viktor both sat down, and Yuuri couldn’t help but marvel at how busy the restaurant seemed. Most of the tables were full, and there were people as far as the eye could see. Yet the place didn’t seem cramped, despite the number of customers. Yuuri then turned to gaze at Viktor, who was staring out the window. There was silence between them, and Yuuri couldn’t help but fidget a little.
“So..um..” he started, wanting to make some sort of conversation with his idol.
The model turned his full attention to Yuuri, resting his chin on one hand. “Yes?”
“How come paparazzi doesn’t follow you to the apartment complex? A-and woulditbealrightifiwroteanarticleaboutyouandaskedyousomequestions?” Yuuri managed to say, speaking the last bit so quickly the words seemed slurred together.
“Sure. I don’t mind. And I have my ways to keep paparazzi away from my home,” Viktor winked, placing an index finger on his lips.
Yuuri was stunned. He hadn’t expected Viktor to actually agree to an interview. His mouth opened and closed like a fish for several moments before he pulled himself together again. Pulling out the notepad and pen he carried with him everywhere, he flipped to a clean sheet. “U-um, okay. So the first question is, why did you move to Japan?”
“Work. My agency told me they wanted to open a branch in Japan, and that I should be the first model to go there,” Viktor answered easily, with a pleasant smile.
The next few minutes passed in a blur, with Yuuri asking questions and Viktor giving very simple answers. They were interrupted by a waiter approaching their table. The waiter looked quite similar to Sara, with the same shade of skin, eyes, and hair.
“Good evening. My name is Michele, and I will be your waiter tonight. May I start you off with something to drink?” the waiter handed each of them a large menu, and Yuuri noticed Michele had a light Italian accent, almost identical to Sara’s.
“Ah...just water is fine,” Yuuri told him.
Viktor chose to have a glass of red wine.
Michele took their drink orders and left promptly. Once he seemed to be out of earshot, Viktor leaned in and whispered, “He and Sara are twins. They own this restaurant and the bakery connected to it.”
This surprised Yuuri, since he didn’t think that they would need to work themselves in such a grand restaurant. As they waited for Michele to come back, Yuuri resumed the interview. Viktor was astoundingly open, about his life. Yuuri quickly learned that he became a model because a childhood friend of his had encouraged him to. The friend was a model himself, named Christophe Giacometti. Viktor also had a poodle which he adored, named Makkachin. Yuuri decided not to tell the Russian that when he was younger. he had bought a toy poodle and named it Vicchan after Viktor.
They were snapped out of their passionate discussion of poodles when Michele returned with their drinks. Taking a sip of his wine, Viktor thanked him.
Yuuri was embarrassed when he realized he had been so engrossed in talking to Viktor that he hadn’t picked out an entree to order. Quickly flipping through the vast selection of food, he chose a plate of Penne Alfredo.
Viktor ordered Fettuccini of some sort. Yuuri was too busy scribbling notes down in his notepad to pay that much attention.
Michele took down their orders and left again, leaving Viktor and Yuuri alone together once again. Yuuri was finally out of things to ask for the interview, and so Viktor began asking some questions of his own. Yuuri told Viktor a little about his parents’ hot spring inn, his older sister’s obsession with boy bands, and his stay in America.
Viktor seemed very interested in everything Yuuri had to say, and he found the rapt attention a little embarrassing.
“You’re really cute,” Viktor suddenly told him, nearly causing Yuuri to have heart failure.
“E-Excuse me?” Yuuri wasn’t sure he’d heard him correctly.
“I said, you’re really cute.”
“I-I...um...t-thank you…” Cheeks flaming red, Yuuri stared down at his lap. He couldn’t believe it. Viktor, his idol and probably the most gorgeous human being he’d ever met, had called him cute.
“Have you ever tried wearing contacts?” Viktor asked, taking another sip of wine.
“Um...no. Why do you ask?”
“I think you’d look amazing with your hair slicked back and no glasses. You’re really cute with them on, but you’d bring out your eros without them.”
Yuuri had no idea what Viktor meant by ‘bringing out his eros’, but he wasn’t about to argue. He opened his mouth to respond, but closed it when Viktor reached over the table and slicked back Yuuri’s hair with his hand.
“Hmm. Just as I thought. You look really good with your hair slicked back.”
Just then, Michele came back with their food and Yuuri felt his stomach rumble. He dug into his pasta voraciously, before remembering his idol was sitting across the table.
Viktor simply smiled, eating his own food.
As their conversation resumed, Yuuri realized that Viktor was actually a bit of an airhead, but so incredibly charismatic, it hardly mattered. He found himself falling even more in love with him as he got to know the Russian model better.
The dinner ended all too soon, and as promised, Viktor paid for both of them. A thought suddenly sprang into Yuuri’s mind. What if this was a...date?
He was thrown out of his thoughts when Michele came to pick up the check, and Viktor stood up to leave. Yuuri’s heart nearly jumped out of his chest when the model whispered into his ear, “I have something to tell you when we go back to the apartment.”
Maybe this had been a date, and Yuuri had used it to interview him. He suddenly felt rather guilty. He then remembered that it was through the interview that he had learned so much about his crush.
The walk back to the apartment complex was a complete haze. Yuuri came up with at least thirty different things Viktor would tell him when they arrived. What if his fly had been open the whole time or something? That would be mortifying. The journalist quickly glanced downwards to check and let out an internal sigh of relief.
Pausing in front of his door, Viktor turned to Yuuri with a small smile. “Yuuri, I had a lot of fun tonight.”
“M-me too!” Yuuri flushed a light shade of pink.
“Will you go out with me?”
Yuuri’s heart nearly stopped. This had to be a dream. Viktor Nikiforov was asking him out? He managed to squeak out a “yes” before Viktor threw his arms around him.
“Ever since I first saw you when I moved in, I’ve been in love with you,” Viktor whispered.
“I-I did too...” Yuuri couldn’t believe it. Viktor had felt the same way the entire time? His mind racing, he practically felt his entire body blushing. His body temperature skyrocketed when Viktor leaned in and kissed him gently on the lips. Yuuri passed out, his face beet red.
“Oops.” Viktor laughed a little, catching Yuuri in his arms and carrying him into his apartment. He gently put Yuuri down on his bed, his eyes softening. After checking to make sure Yuuri was alright, he climbed into the bed as well, and quickly fell asleep.
The next morning, Yuuri would wake up to find himself in Viktor’s apartment, specifically, in his bed. His face flamed when he noticed Viktor was sleeping beside him.
Yesterday had been the strangest day of his life. He saw Viktor shirtless, then later had dinner with him, and then got asked out. Yuuri blushed when he realized it hadn’t been a dream. He, Yuuri Katsuki, was now dating THE Viktor Nikiforov. Phichit would probably scream when he found out.