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Viktor was four when he first learned about soulmates. Really learned about soulmates. He knew the words written in a language he couldn’t understand belonged to his soulmate. That was a question he asked as soon as he could recognize the marks on his body as writing. He knew soulmates in the way his father kissed his mother’s cheek every time he came into same room. He knew soulmates in the way his mother’s eyes lit up when his father laughed. He knew soulmates in the way they looked at each other, swaying gently in the living to soft music after Viktor was supposed to be asleep.

Viktor knew his parents were soulmates. Happy and utterly in love. Viktor knew their love well, getting it at least tenfold from them both. But he didn’t know what soulmates were . He wanted to know.

“Vitya, what bedtime story would you like?” his mother asked softly, tucking him into bed.

Viktor pushed the blankets down and lifted up his pajama shirt. “What does this say?”

“We’ve told you, dear, it says ‘I’m a vet,’” she translated patiently, as she pulled Viktor’s shirt back down. “A vet is an animal doctor.”

Viktor knew that, this was far from the first time he’d asked. But he had different questions he wanted answered. “Why is it here?”

“It’s the first words your soulmate will say to you, my dear.”

“Are you and papa soulmates?” Viktor asked as if he didn’t already know the answer.

His mother smiled fondly, “Yes, Vitya.”

“What are soulmates?”

“Your soulmate will be someone… perfect for you. ”

“Perfect?”

“Yes. Sometimes it’ll feel like they know you better than you know yourself. Soulmates are a beautiful thing,” she finished, a dreamy look on her face.

Viktor eagerly sat up on his bed, eyes gleaming, “Will I get married to my soulmate? Like you and papa?”

His mother laughed softly. “Maybe, Vitya. Not all soulmates get married.”

That night, Viktor asked every question he could think of. His mother answered patiently until Viktor was yawning more than he was speaking. He dreamed of warmth and love in shades of blue. The words “perfect for you” circling in and out of his consciousness

Viktor was thirteen when he began to grow impatient. He felt at a disadvantage when compared to his peers. Most of which had their soulmarks written in familiar Russian. Soulmates were rarely a topic of discussion, but that didn’t stop Viktor from seeing a peer’s soulmark then and again. His was the only one he had seen written in English. A language he was studying in earnest, just to be sure he’d be able to communicate with his soulmate when the time came.

Viktor didn’t bother with worrying about good first impressions. He never spoke first. Allowing strangers to introduce themselves before he said a word. It’s not like anyone spoke anything but Russian to him, so he didn’t concern himself with poetic and planned introductions. He soulmate didn’t seem all that poetic anyways, with such straightforward first words.

Viktor knew his soulmate would be perfect for him; he could only hope he’d be as perfect for them.

Viktor was twenty-one when he had started his schooling in France, after taking three years off to “figure things out.” Though Viktor had excelled in high school—graduating top of his class—he didn’t desire to go to university. He couldn’t find the motivation in himself to go. The idea going right back to formal schooling for four or five years seemed unbearable, especially given nothing seemed to ignite a fire within him.

So, he decided to take a gap year. Which turned into two. Which turned into three.

He worked all sorts of odd jobs. Library page, telemarketer, bagging clerk, helping out at construction sites, and jobs of the like. None of them lasted long; Viktor was unable to find that spark he was looking for. The job that lasted longest was at an auto shop. Run by a family friend, she was willing to take Viktor on for some extra help. Viktor loved working with his hands; he loved the methodical work that came with working with cars. It wasn’t easy by any means but that was the best part. He began to consider joining an apprenticeship program, even.

In the end, the spark dulled. Even if he enjoyed working with cars, he couldn’t see himself doing it for living.

“What are you looking for, Vitya?” his mother had asked one evening, and Viktor couldn’t answer. If he knew, wouldn’t he be doing it?

Inspiration came in the form of a pastry baking competition. Of all things. Viktor had been mindlessly browsing channels on the television, Makkachin resting on his chest, when he stopped on a cooking channel. He didn’t generally watch the cooking channel, but it was three in the morning and there seemed to be nothing on but reruns of a pastry baking competition. He mostly wanted the TV on for the noise, something in the background to make his apartment seem less empty. However, he became quickly enraptured, watching the pastry chefs race against the clock. There was a passion in them Viktor hadn’t felt in himself in years.

If one could only use one word to describe Viktor, that one word would likely be “impulsive.”

Maybe it was silly. Making the decision to apply to universities in France based off a, likely, scripted baking competition he watched in the early hours of the morning. Making the decision to move abroad because people on TV looked excited to be making pastries.

But Viktor was a good cook. When he put the effort in. He decided he wanted to put the effort into being a pastry chef. He got into a small university in France and for the first since, perhaps, primary school, Viktor looked forward to school.

Viktor was also twenty-one when he met Christophe Giacometti for the first time. They met at an animal hospital, of all places. Viktor had brought Makkachin in for a check-up. To make sure she wasn’t stressed or sick from the flight. Was it entirely necessary? No. But Viktor burned with need to meet his soulmate. Where else would one’s first words be “I’m a vet.”?

He sat next to a young man with stunning green eyes, feeling a bit disappointed that Makkachin’s new vet hadn’t said the words he ached to hear. The stranger said something in French that Viktor couldn’t quite catch.

Viktor looked blankly at the man before saying, “Sorry, I don’t know much French yet,” in accented English.

The stranger clicked his tongue, making a tsk’ing noise in the back of his throat. “Pretty weak for a first impression.” Somehow, he sounded flirtatious, his voice dripping with innuendo, even as he chided Viktor.

“I’m sure yours was strong enough for the both of us.” The stranger laughed heartily, not protesting Viktor’s statement. “What did you say?”

“’Are you an angel?’” the stranger winked.

“What did I tell you?” Viktor laughed, feeling lighter from the exchange. “Strong enough for the both of us.”

“Christophe Giacometti,” he introduced himself.

“Viktor Nikiforov.”

The two of them became quick friends. Christophe was studying in France as well, and they built a strong support system between them. Soulmates were a frequent topic among them. Viktor had never met someone so willing and open to discuss such a topic. He had also never met someone with five soulmarks. Never even heard of someone having so many. Was it even possible? To be “perfectly” matched to so many?

Sometimes Viktor worried he wouldn’t even be perfectly matched to his soulmate and that’s why it was taking so long to meet them. Truthfully, he had a difficult time connecting with others. Even with Chris, the man who he grew to consider his closest friend, he struggled. He wanted to be perfect. Not just for his soulmate, but for everyone he met. Perfect friend, perfect student, perfect son, perfect neighbor. If he couldn’t be perfect for his soulmate yet, he’d be perfect in every other relationship in his life. It caused him to hold himself back, only display himself in bits and pieces.

It took longer than he’d care to admit to realize Christophe didn’t want perfection. “Or whatever you deem to think is my perfection,” he had scoffed one day. “I want to be your friend, not friends with what you think I want to hear.”

It came as a shock to Viktor.

Things between Viktor and Christ didn’t change swiftly, but Viktor realized there was a wall of his own creation between them. Slowly, he tried to open up more. Share his insecurities, his worries, his… imperfections.

It was a slow process.

Until it wasn’t.

Chris never made Viktor to feel lesser for his difficulties with people. For his struggles with his emotions. And, perhaps, that is why he left his guard down. Three years since meeting, the two were enjoying a celebratory drink or two or ten for the completion of yet another semester. Viktor allowed himself to be more honest than, perhaps, he had ever been before in his life—with the safety net the alcohol provided.

“Why aren’t we soulmates?”

“Pardon?”

Viktor leaned heavily on Chris, though Chris wasn’t in a much better state, as the two stumbled to their shared apartment. “Why aren’t we soulmates?” Viktor repeated.

“Because we aren’t,” Chris slurred in response.

Immediately, Viktor protested, “But you have so many!”

Chris made a frustrated nose, “I don’t understand, mon ami.”

“Why can’t we be soulmates?”

Chris was silent for a moment before letting out a soft, “Ah.” Suddenly Viktor felt a sense of shame rush through his veins. “Our connection isn’t less than a soulmate’s connection,” Chris said softly, sounding unfairly sober.

“But you have so many,” Viktor repeated uselessly.

“I have five.”

“So many.”

“I love them all.” Viktor remained silent. “You should know by now that I love you too.”

“I do know.”

“Then what’s causing this hang up?” Chris’s voice wasn’t impatient or condescending, merely curious.

“It’s just… it’s not fair!” Viktor stated loudly, earning a “hush” from Chris as they unlocked door to their apartment. “You have five, what would one more be?”

Chris frowned for the first time during the conversation. “’What’s one more’? I’m not collecting them.” Viktor winced, opening his mouth to adjust his statement, but Chris continued, “They’re all special to me.”

“I didn’t meant it like that,” Viktor said, looking down at the floor. Chris gently guided Viktor to the couch. “I only meant how could someone possible understand me better than you? It’d be easier if we were soulmates.”

“Being soulmates wouldn’t change anything.”

“How can you be sure?”

“Soulmates just… jumpstart things. People found their soulmates before soulmarks, non?” Viktor shrugged, conceding the point reluctantly. “We can be soulmates even without marks.”

Viktor snorted at that. “Sounds like a pickup line.”

Chris winked, “Feeling better?” Viktor nodded, “Then it worked.”

“Thanks, Chris.” There was a pause and the moment felt intimate under the haze of alcohol.

Unthinkingly, unwisely, impulsively , Viktor pressed his lips against Chris’s.

Chris pulled away almost immediately.

“You don’t want this,” he stated firmly, a frown furrowing his brows.

“You don’t know that,” came Viktor’s petulant response.

“ I don’t want this.”

Viktor wordlessly opened his mouth for a moment before apologizing. “I’m sorry…”

“Let’s get you to bed.”

The next day, Viktor awoke feeling one part hungover and two parts an enormous ass. He apologized again, profusely, stating as much to Chris. “I said wanted to be friends with the real you, that includes your ass-ish qualities. Besides, when have I ever complained about an ass?” Chris winked and Viktor was relieved that nothing would change between them.

Chris had been right, of course. He never had romantic or sexual interest in his friend, and the same could be said for Chris. That barely-a-kiss was the first and only the two would share.

Viktor was twenty-four when he graduated, twenty-four when he decided to move to America, and twenty-four when he realized he couldn’t wait for his soulmate forever. Like his parents before him, he hoped to be romantically involved with his soulmate. But... that was no guarantee. For all he knew, his soulmate was a woman. Not that he’d be opposed to having a woman as his soulmate, but he also wasn’t attracted to women. Not romantically, not sexually. But he’d be happy no matter who his soulmate turned out to be. He couldn’t imagine ever being disappointed, even if romance wasn’t on the table for them. He also knew he shouldn’t pin all his hopes onto some vague, faceless entity who he may or may not meet anytime soon.

He had to know that.

So, after setting up and getting Stammi Vicino off its feet, Viktor tried to get out. He felt genuinely happy on his own for the first time in what seemed like so, so, so long. The bakery he dreamed of was becoming a reality. He loved waking up every morning to prepare the pastries for the day. He loved the customers, from the kind and generous to the ones that complained he charged too much. It wasn’t easy but he loved every single part. He even loved washing the pans and bowls at the end of the day, watching as the remnants of the day’s work washed down the drain. He took Makkachin on walks, met other dog owners, tried so hard to be himself—whatever that meant—and was happy.

Life continued on like that for three years. Viktor went on a few dates, met people, wonderful people. Though the dates were fun, they never progressed far. He enjoyed getting to know them, but it always felt like something was holding him back. Until he met the man he thought things would finally be different with. They were together for a year and a half and Viktor found himself falling in love. They weren’t marked with a soulbond, but their connection felt real, felt genuine.

The man ended it with a text.

(23:52) I found my soulmate, sorry.

Viktor hadn’t seen or heard from him since.

Viktor hadn’t thought there was to be a deadline on their relationship. A limitation. It wasn’t just a way to pass time until they met their respective soulmates. Viktor had thought they were on the same page there.

Teetering on the edge of depression, that pushed Viktor over. Already getting up in the morning was more and more difficult. The inspiration and drive that Stammi Vicino was built upon was crumbling beneath his feet and he felt helpless to do anything but fall. But life didn’t stop for a broken heart or lost inspiration. Life went on. And what choice did Viktor have but to continue on as he always had? Inspiration didn’t pay the bills, after all.

Time went on, his heart mended, but he felt as listless as ever. Going through the motions of a human being. Empty, unfeeling. Until, suddenly, he felt again.

Panic. Frightened. Frantic.

Seeing Makkachin lie motionless on the asphalt stirred up emotions he didn’t even know he could feel anymore. A person rushed out of their car, apologies tumbling from their lips but they didn’t reach Viktor’s ears. He was rooted to the ground, unable to command his feet to move.

The only sound that broke through the blood rushing in his ears was a whimper. Makkachin twitched on the ground and Viktor sprang into action, picking his puppy up and cradling her close to his chest. “A vet!” Viktor barked and a person pointed shakily behind Viktor. Without listening to further direction, Viktor took off running.

He had been too careless and he refused to let his carelessness be the cause of Makkachin’s death. After running for a while he realized he had no idea where the vet was, or even if he was still going in the right direction.

On a whim, an impulsive whim, he rounded a corner. Then another. Then a third. It was then he crashed into another stranger. Maybe they could help. “Sorry!” he gasped out, instinctively, thoughtlessly. “My dog!” he abortively explained. “A-A car.”

The stranger looked as worried as Viktor felt, before visibly pulling themselves together. “I’m a vet!” they exclaimed, gesturing for Viktor to follow. Relief washed over him as he followed the vet to the nearby animal hospital. He followed the vet’s instructions and left Makkachin with them, which left him out in the waiting room, alone and so nervous he felt nauseous.

He had swiftly finished the forms he was told to fill out and with nothing to do with his hands, he restlessly drummed against the arm of the chair, leg bouncing up and down as he waited to hear something, anything. He wished he could be in the back with Makkachin. It was pure agony to sit in the waiting room.

After what felt like an eternity, the vet finally returned. Viktor jumped up, immediately asking, “Makkachin! Is she…” he couldn’t finish the question. The words were caught in his throat, struggling to breath at the mere thought of Makkachin being anything but okay.

“She’s stable.” Viktor was finally able to exhale, his breath coming out shakily. Stable. “I’m a pet technician, Yuuri Katsuki,” the vet introduced and Viktor quickly took his hand, shaking it.

“Viktor Nikiforov,” he managed to get out. He didn’t care for introductions, not now. Not when there were so many uncertainties about his beloved friend.

Viktor listened as Dr. Katsuki explained Makkachin’s injuries, answering the questions he asked and making what he hoped would be right decisions regarding her recovery. At some point, Dr. Katsuki led them to sit down as they finished talking about the surgery and what it would entail.

Everything Dr. Katsuki told him made the pit in Viktor’s stomach grow. He couldn’t bear the thought of complications during the surgery. The idea that Makkachin wouldn’t pull through was too painful to even think about. He didn’t even realize how painful the thoughts were until he felt a tear hit his hand. Shocked he looked down at his hand before raising it to brush away more tears before they had the chance to fall.

“Sorry…” he apologized, rubbing his eyes. When was the last time he had cried? It felt like it had been so long.

“It’s fine, you’re worried about Makkachin. It’s normal.”

Normal. Of course it’s normal to cry. Perhaps it was stranger that it had been so long since Viktor had last cried. Viktor took a deep breath before voicing his final decision. “If the bloodwork comes back, uh, okay for the anesthesia then that’s best.”

Dr. Katsuki nodded, “Yes, I agree. Makkachin will need to stay for at least two days to make sure there are no complications.” There was that words again. Complications. Viktor hated it. “We will call you once the surgery is finished to update you.”

Viktor wanted to stay. He would stay through the next two days without leaving if he were allowed. But he knew he couldn’t. Instead, he stood up and took Dr. Katsuki’s hand once again. “Thank you, Dr. Katsuki.” Without realizing, his eyes were drawn to Dr. Katsuki’s wrist. His sleeves were pushed up at the elbow and brazenly displayed for all to see was his soulmark. All it said was “Sorry” and Viktor couldn’t help but wonder who would say something so dull in this day and age.

Later that evening, while Viktor was cleaning up Stammi Vicino he received a call from Dr. Katsuki, informing him the surgery went through without any complications and that Makkachin would make a full recovery. Immediately upon hearing those words, Viktor collapsed against a wall, sliding to the floor in relief. The tension in his body that had been keeping him upright suddenly gone. He couldn’t do anything but sit on the floor for a while until his body regained the strength the stand again.

Makkachin would be fine. She would pull through. There were no complications and everything went more smoothly than they could have hoped for. Viktor repeated this to himself over and over as he tried to sleep. It remained elusive. Eventually his alarm went off and he forced himself to get up. The house was too silent without Makkachin. He was eager to get to the bakery. At least there he could focus on work, get his hands moving. He had an idea for a new cookie. His first idea in a long while. Makkachin-shaped cookies to commemorate his injured friend and celebrate her (hopefully inevitable) recovery.

Viktor slowly brushed his teeth, taking in his reflection in the mirror. He had bags under his eyes—last night not being the first night he couldn’t sleep. Unbidden, his gaze fell to the soulmark on his ribcage.

I’m a vet

Viktor froze, toothbrush in mouth and toothpaste gathering at the corners of his lips.

I’m a vet

The words swirled in his mind.

I’m a vet!

This time the words were spoken frantically, falling from the lips of the veterinarian who had helped him yesterday. Viktor’s eyes widened as he was hit with the weight of their meeting.

“I met my soulmate,” Viktor spoke around the toothbrush in his mouth. Viktor spat out the toothpaste, wiping his face. “I met my soulmate!” Excitement coursed through his veins. He paused, willing himself to calm down. “Okay, don’t get ahead of yourself,” he told his reflection. It helped to talk out loud. It killed the suffocating silence in the house. “You don’t know for sure his mark matches. …What were my first words?” he pondered, closing his eyes. It was such a blur. “This is important,” he told himself, gripping the edge of the sink until his knuckles turned white. “We crashed… and I.. apologized!” A quiet thump rang out in the bathroom as Viktor’s head fell against the cold porcelain. “I said, ‘Sorry.’” Viktor took a deep breath, composing himself. Though the words were boring, the situation in which they met surely was not. Viktor would have taken a perfectly mundane meeting though if it meant Makkachin would have been spared the pain she must be in.

Jolting up, Viktor met his reflection’s gaze. “I need to go see him. Would it be too soon?” Too desperate? “But we’re soulmates, surely he wants to meet again. At least once more!” Under better circumstance , he added mentally.

But, Makkachin wouldn’t be released until tomorrow. He should wait. It wouldn’t feel right going back and leaving without Makkachin.

Viktor dedicated his day to work—making the best Makka-shaped cookies imaginable. For the first time in a long while, Viktor felt accomplished when the day came to an end. Once back in his apartment, however, the intense feeling of loneliness washed over him.

He had only slept a few hours before the blare of an alarm woke him up. He felt worse than if he hadn’t slept at all. But, at least, he’d bring Makkachin home today. And see Yuuri again. Viktor packed a Makkachin cookie for Yuuri and hurried to the vet. Makkachin was so excited to see Viktor, he worried she would reinjure herself, or aggravate her injury in some way. Eventually she calmed and Viktor received instructions from Celestino on how to care for her during her recovery. After being given the “okay” he realized he hadn’t seen Yuuri yet. Unashamedly, he asked, “Is Dr. Katsuki in today?”

“ Dr. Katsuki?” Viktor nodded. “He’s off today.”

“Oh.” Viktor’s expression fell slightly, but he couldn’t feel too disappointed with Makkachin wagging her tail next to him. They would meet again. Viktor had waited 27 years to meet Yuuri. He could wait a few more days, a few more weeks.

The bell rang out through Stammi Vicino, signaling a customer. Viktor plastered his “service” smile on his face but it quickly slipped into a look of awe.

Yuuri “I’m a vet” Katsuki was in his bakery.

“Oh! It’s you!” Viktor blurted, unable to stop himself.

In his soft, pondering voice, Yuuri replied, “Sorry?”

Hope flew into his chest, up his throat. Birds might as well have sang in his head. He remembered! Out loud, Viktor replied, “Yeah, that’s me!”

“Uhh…”

Well… not the response Viktor expected. Still, not to be deterred, Viktor confessed plainly, “I’m ‘Sorry.’”

“Why are you sorry?” Yuuri looked as bewildered as Viktor now felt. Trying to be subtle, Viktor glanced at Yuuri’s wrist. Did he make some mistake? Viktor got a quick look at the words under Yuuri’s slightly pushed up sleeve. Yes. His wrist definitely said “sorry.” Why was he acting so confused?

Yuuri moved his wrist behind his back and Viktor realized he was perhaps not subtle at all. He would just explain bluntly. That would be best. “I only realized after I got home,” Viktor started elaborating in a rush, “and I was going to bring it up when I picked up Makkachin.” Viktor hoped that would suffice but Yuuri’s expression did not light up in understanding, nor did he run into Viktor’s arms proclaiming it was a joke and of course he was equally eager to get to know Viktor. And as cute as Yuuri’s confused expression was, Viktor desired so much to see his other expressions. So, Viktor pressed on. “From the veterinary hospital?”

Finally, finally , recognition crawled across Yuuri’s face; slowly, but it was there. “Oh! You’re Makkachin’s owner!”

Viktor liked it better when Yuuri was confused.

Forcing past the tightness in his throat, he asked, “You really don’t remember me?” Yuuri shook his head. Was it possible for a single gesture to be so heartbreaking? Could a person you’ve only met twice break your heart? “I’m, uh, Viktor? Viktor Nikiforov?”

“Oh! Yeah, that sounds familiar…” The words might have raised a spark of hope if not for the awkward and insincere way Yuuri had said them. “Sorry, a lot of people bring in their pets…”

How many are your soulmate? Viktor almost said, but held himself back. Instead, he forced a smile onto his face and wondered if it looked as strained as it felt. How could he forget meeting his soulmate? Sure, the situation wasn’t ideal but even Viktor could recall the exchange in perfect clarity and Viktor would be the first to admit his memory was extraordinarily poor. It’s not everyday you meet your soulmate.

“How can I help you?” he asked, almost mechanically.

“I, uh, wanted…” Yuuri pointed at the new cookies that Viktor had designed, that Viktor had planned on gifting to Yuuri, “this one.” Viktor began packaging it up when Yuuri asked, “Is it, um, Makkachin?”

You can remember my dog’s name, but not mine? He thought, before shaking himself out of it. He wouldn’t be jealous of his dog. That was ridiculous. “Yeah. I designed them while Makkachin was in surgery…” Yuuri went for his wallet and, impulsively, Viktor shoved the package at Yuuri. “On the house, Dr. Katsuki.”

Yuuri stared blankly at Viktor and, suddenly, Viktor felt exhausted. He just wanted to curl up in his bed and sleep. Finally, he replied, “Thank you, but, uh, I’m not a doctor yet.” Viktor frowned, confused. “I’m still working towards my doctorate. I’m just a pet technician right now.”

“Ah, I thought you looked quite young to be a doctor,” he commented, offhandedly. Viktor wasn’t entirely sure what the difference between a pet technician and a veterinarian was—besides, perhaps, a doctorate—but it seemed important enough for Yuuri to make a point about it.

Viktor watched as Yuuri pulled his wallet from his back pocket, “Are you sure I can’t—“ Viktor swiftly shook his head. He already said it was on the house, he wasn’t going to take it back now. “Thank you. The cookies, they, uh, look like my poodle too.”

Now that caught Viktor’s interest. Despite feeling like his heart had been trampled by a vicious stampede, he couldn’t help but feel excited about talking about cute poodles. “You have a dog?”

For the first time, Yuuri smiled. It was small, soft, and gentle. And it made Viktor’s heart skip more beats than what was healthy. “Majima is his name,” Yuuri said fondly. “I guess I, uh, rescued him about ten years ago.”

“You should bring him!” The words were blurted out, pulled from Viktor’s lips without his permission. Yuuri looked confused again and Viktor added, feeling less excited, “That is, if you come here again. Once Makkachin recovers, she’ll be back here with me,” he was rambling and he knew he was rambling but he couldn’t stop. “I’m sure she’d love to meet Majima!” Yuuri nodded but Viktor doubted it was genuine, given the hesitation with which the gesture was delivered.

“Okay, I will. Thanks again.”

“Please come again.” It wasn’t spoken in the polite way he often said those words to his customers. There was an edge of desperation to his voice. An edge he hadn’t been able to lock away.

Yuuri left without so much as looking back.

Once the door closed behind Yuuri, Viktor laid his head against the counter, groaning loudly in the empty bakery. He had finally, finally, finally met his soulmate. Why was it so difficult? Shouldn’t everything just fall into place? All the great romance stories told of romances so strong and wonderful that, upon meeting your soulmate, life would just become… well, perfect. No story ever told of a soulmate who forgot meeting.

Viktor Nikiforov had never imagined he’d feel worse after meeting his soulmate.

Despite being so exhausted earlier, Viktor still couldn’t sleep. It was better now that Makkachin was back in his apartment, dozing next to him. He couldn’t help but replay his earlier interaction with Yuuri in his mind, over and over. Thinking about it, he realized he really couldn’t blame Yuuri for forgetting. It was a stressful situation. And Viktor hadn’t been, exactly, clear during their second meeting.

He resolved to be even more straightforward next time they met. Even going so far as to flat out say, “Hey, I’m like 98% positive we’re soulmates,” if he must. He knew he would see Yuuri again. Next time, he’d make sure there would be no room for misunderstandings.

Viktor felt frustrated as he sat at the counter of Stammi Vicino. Scribbling and crossing out ideas in his notebook. He needed something new, something exciting to create. But nothing turned out the way he wanted. It was a relief when he heard the bell above the door ring out. It was a surprise, a pleasant surprise to see Yuuri Katsuki in the doorway once again. He wasn’t alone, however. He had brought his dog, an adorable toy poodle.

He smiled. He was going to be charming and suave and Yuuri would remember their first meeting. “Dr. Katsuki!” he greeted brightly, before recalling their last conversation. “Oh, not doctor. Uh… Mx. Katsuki?”

Yuuri’s smile could have melted icebergs. “Just Yuuri is fine,” he replied in a way that answered absolutely nothing.

Still, Viktor leaned against the counter, glancing at Yuuri through his eyelashes. “Do you remember my name?” he asked, hoping he sounded more flirtatious than hopeful.

He relished the way Yuuri’s round face flushed red. “Viktor Niko-Nik-Nikfoav?” Viktor nearly laughed at the mispronunciation but held himself back. At least he got the first name right. Nikfoav wasn’t the worst pronunciation he had ever heard. Once a professor at his university had called him “Monsieur Nilforv.”

“Close! Nikiforov,” he corrected. “Please call me Viktor,” he added as he stepped out from behind the counter to properly greet Yuuri’s dog. “You must be Majima!” he said excitedly in a tone usually reserved for Makkachin. Majima immediately began wagging his tail as Viktor crouched down.

“You remembered his name?” Yuuri sounded shocked.

“Of course!” Viktor replied easily. “I might be forgetful at times, but I remember the important things!” Viktor winked up at Yuuri, unable to help himself. It might have been a low blow, but Yuuri didn’t even seem to realize he was supposed to be remembering something.

“My dog’s name is important?” he asked instead, as he also crouched down next to Majima and Viktor.

“Well, you’re important.” Viktor tried to read Yuuri’s expression, who froze at Viktor’s words. He looked a bit uncomfortable and Viktor froze as well. Okay, that was too strong. He doesn’t remember we’re soulmates, tone it back until you can explain. “You, uh, helped save Makkachin. You’re important.” The explanation sounded weak, even to Viktor’s ears. Luckily, Yuuri didn’t question him further, instead just stood up, as if to put more space between them. Viktor furthered the space by going back behind the counter to wash his hands. “What can I get you today?”

“Hm, what’s your favorite?” Yuuri asked.

“Mine?” Viktor felt his heart flutter at the question. It was a small question but, at least, Yuuri seemed to show some interest in getting to know him too.

“Yes. The cookie last time was the best I’d ever had. I don’t even know where to begin with the rest here. I want to know what you think is best!”

Viktor couldn’t help but smile, hearing Yuuri talk about his pastries. It was the same kind of excitement he used to have for his creations. It felt good to invoke the same sort of excitement in someone else. So, Viktor grabbed one of the freshest pastries from the case. Not necessarily his favorite but he was quite pleased with how it came out. “Here, try this.”

Yuuri didn’t hesitate in digging in, taking the first bite at the counter. “Oh wow!” Yuuri exclaimed. He smiled so brightly, his eyes crinkled. It was probably the cutest thing Viktor had ever seen. “This is amazing!” Yuuri gushed and Viktor felt his own face grow warm under Yuuri’s praise. “What is it?”

Equally excited, Viktor replied, “Madeleine!” He gestured towards one of the tables and followed Yuuri as he sat down.

“French?”

“Oui!” Viktor replied cheekily, unable to keep the smile off his face. “I studied in France for many years,” he disclosed. Though, he wasn’t thinking much about his schooling as he watched Yuuri eat the pastry.

“This is seriously great!”

Somehow, Viktor’s smile grew. As much as he wanted to keep the conversation light and happy, he also wanted—no, needed to talk about their first meeting. He needed Yuuri to remember. “Do you remember your first words to me?” he asked, his serious tone at odds with Yuuri’s light expression.

Yuuri merely shrugged in response, as if the state of Viktor’s heart wasn’t riding on the outcome of this conversation. “’Follow me’? or ‘I know a vet’?” Yuuri asked, eyes looking up as he tried to recall. The action looked almost practiced to Viktor, like the action of someone thinking in a film. Ultimately, he finished with, “Something like that, I’m sure. Why?”

Viktor ignored the question, pressing on, “And my first words?”

Yuuri perked up and Viktor felt his throat fly into his throat. He remembered something , at least! “You said, ‘My dog!’ right?” Viktor’s heart sank into the bottom of his stomach. “Is this… is this about… soulmarks?” Yuuri asked quietly and Viktor sat up straighter. This was the opening he needed. He could confess he had Yuuri’s words as his soulmark. Before he had the chance, however, Yuuri spoke again. “Don’t worry, your words didn’t match my mark.”

This isn’t at all like how Viktor pictured this conversation going. “R-really?” Viktor asked weakly, inquiring. He needed Yuuri to think more about it. How could he be so oblivious? Viktor was beginning to doubt even being straightforward would help.

“Really.” Viktor winced slightly at the snappishness of Yuuri’s response. That wasn’t the reaction he had expected at all. It was clear Yuuri wanted to drop the subject. He tried to keep the hurt off his face. “Sorry…” Yuuri apologized but it was far from the words Viktor wanted to hear. Yuuri seemed to avoid direct answers about anything related to soulmates. Using vague words and unsure expressions. “Do you have any, I don’t know, pastries for dogs?” The deflection was obvious. Yuuri couldn’t have been less subtle about the topic change.

He didn’t want to talk about soulmates. Viktor shook his head, unable to do anything but follow Yuuri’s lead. “No… but that’s not a bad idea!” he thought about making dog-safe pastries before but they never turned out quite right. “I’ve made dog treats for Makkachin before,” he explained, though decided to leave out the less than stellar response Makkachin had towards them. Instead, he reached down and scratched behind Majima’s ear. “Would you like me to make you something, hm?” Majima happily barked, as if he understood what Viktor was offering.

“Oh no! That’s not necessary!” Yuuri quickly interrupted, waving his arms.

“Nonsense, it’d be a pleasure,” Viktor said honestly. Yuuri didn’t look exactly pleased at the idea, and he finished eating his pastry in silence. Viktor felt an awkward silence overcome the table and wondered just where the conversation had gone so wrong.

Once Yuuri finished eating, he requested, “Can I get another? To go? For my roommate.” Viktor packed up another madeleine and accepted Yuuri’s payment for the pastries.

Unable to help himself, he promised, “Next time you bring Majima, I’ll have something special for him!”

Viktor sat back down behind the counter, staring blankly at his notebook. Nobody said talking to your soulmate would be so difficult. Chris had five soulmates. That’s five times the potential for difficult soulmate interactions, but Viktor couldn’t recall a single time Chris had told him about any difficulties when first meeting his any of his soulmates.

Yuuri seemed so reluctant to talk about anything related to soulmates. It made telling Yuuri they were soulmates a thousand times more difficult. Viktor jolted up, as a thought came to mind. “He doesn’t believe in soulmates,” he whispered to himself. It made sense. That’s why he was so uncomfortable when Viktor tried to explain that they were soulmates.

Later that night, he called Chris. “Salut, Chris,” he greeted tiredly.

“Salut, mon ami. It’s been a while!”

“Sorry…” Viktor trailed off. It had been a while now that he thought about it. Viktor had never been good at keeping track of time.

“No need for that. What’s on your mind?”

“I, uh, I think I found my soulmate?”

“Is that a question or a statement?”

Viktor huffed out a breath, “Statement. I found my soulmate.”

“You don’t sound nearly as ecstatic as I thought you would.”

Viktor tried to think of the best way to bring up what was on his mind, and ended up blurting out, “He doesn’t believe in soulmates, Chris!”

There was a pause. “He told you this?”

“…Not in so many words.”

“Sounds like you must tell me the whole story.”

Viktor took a deep breath, preparing himself. “Okay, so, first Makkachin got hit by a car and then…” Viktor recounted the story, barely stopping for air as he tried to get the words out as fast as possible. “And, his smile, Chris! I have never seen anything so beautiful! And his arms! When he had his sleeves rolled up, wow! But every time I bring up soulmates, he changes the topic! I couldn’t have been more obvious!” he finally finished, out of breath.

Chris was silent a moment, likely taking in Viktor’s tale. “And you’re sure he didn’t just forget?”

“If he just forgot, why would he be so defensive?” Viktor retorted heatedly, assuredly. “If it was just that he forgot, it would be easy to just, you know, say ‘Hey, I’m your soulmate!’”

“And are you sure you remember correctly?”

“Yes! It took me a bit to realize but, for once, my memory is perfectly clear.” Chris chuckled and Viktor pressed on. “I don’t get it, Chris. Why won’t he talk to me about being soulmates?”

Whenever Chris and Viktor talked about soulmates, Viktor couldn’t help but feel young and immature, especially compared to Chris. It made him feel childish and inexperienced. But there was no one he’d rather talk to when it came to matters of the heart.

“I can’t say for certain, mon ami, but for some there’s a lot of… pressure in the idea of soulmates.”

Viktor considered the statement for a moment. “So, you’re saying that… what?”

“Maybe he wants to get to know you without your marks hanging over you whenever you talk.”

“So… you think he wants to pretend we’re not soulmates?”

“Possibly?”

“Wouldn’t it just be easier to acknowledge we’re soulmates but that he would rather, I don’t know, start slow?”

“Undoubtedly.” Viktor groaned loudly. “Try talking to him again, Viktor. Just because he’s your soulmate doesn’t mean you have to let him toy around with you.”

“I know.”

“Don’t forget it. It’s late by you, isn’t it? Get some sleep.”

“Okay, have a good day, Chris.”

“Good night.”

It’s not that Viktor intended to ignore Chris’s advice. But the more he talked with Yuuri, the harder it became to bring up the whole soulmates thing. Like, he missed his chance and now it would just be weird to talk about it now. Chris had said that maybe Yuuri didn’t want their marks hovering over every interaction they share, but, if you asked Viktor, this elephant in the room was hovering over them more than any acknowledgement could possibly have.

Viktor had to look Yuuri in the eye and flirt and woo him knowing they were soulmates and knowing Yuuri knew they were soulmates but, for whatever reason, was pretending they weren’t.

It’s not that he was allowing Yuuri to “toy around” with him. It’s just that if this was how Yuuri wanted to get to know each other, he could deal with that. So Viktor got to thinking: what would be the smoothest, most impressive way to Yuuri’s heart?

It didn’t take long for Viktor to come up with an answer. All he had to do was remember the look of pure bliss on Yuuri’s face when he bit into the madeleine. Sweets. He’d woo his soulmate with sweets. Viktor got to work preparing a new and exciting recipe. Something amazing that would make him fall in love instantly. Or, at the very least, inspire him to ask Viktor for his number.

Viktor finished his new recipe just in time for Makkachin’s post-surgery check-up. Hoping Yuuri would be working that day, Viktor made up a small package of his freshly made macaroons and went to Celestino’s Animal Hospital. To his dismay, he didn’t see Yuuri upon arriving. Viktor tried to push Yuuri from his mind as Dr. Celestino went through the check-up to make sure the bone was setting properly. Makkachin was recovering wonderfully and Viktor couldn’t have felt more relieved.

As Viktor was about to leave, something finally seemed to go right and Viktor caught a glance of Yuuri. He couldn’t help but call out, “Ah, Yuuri!”

“Hello Viktor.” It had only been a few days but, wow, had Viktor missed Yuuri’s soft voice. “How’s Makkachin?”

“She’s doing well! Everything seems to be healing just fine!”

“That’s great.” Oh how Viktor had missed that small smile too.

Though, Viktor also missed the excited look Yuuri had when he tried a new sweet. So Viktor didn’t hesitate in pressing the small package into Yuuri’s hands. “I brought you some sweets,” Viktor gave Yuuri an encouraging smile.

Immediately, Yuuri protested, “You didn’t have to!”

Viktor shook his head and pushed the package into Yuuri’s hands. “I wanted to.” Viktor waited, eager for Yuuri to try one, though it seemed to take Yuuri a moment to realize what Viktor wanted. Eventually, under Viktor’s imploring gaze, Yuuri pulled one out and Viktor supplied, “These are called macaroons.”

If asked, Viktor wouldn’t have been able to tell you a time he felt more nervous about someone trying his pastries. Be it professors, his parents, friends, or customers—none of them made butterflies flutter about his stomach, threatening to fly out his mouth in quite same way waiting for Yuuri to take his first bite did.

Yuuri’s teeth sank into the sweet pastry and his entire countenance lit up. His eyes grew wide as he swallowed the bite and his expression alone sung praises words would never be able to convey. Nevertheless, praise fell from Yuuri’s lips, “Wonderful! How do you do it?”

Viktor couldn’t help himself. “They’re baked with his love,” he winked. Yuuri turned red and Viktor took pity, adding, “And years and years of study and practice.” The indelicate snort of a laugh Yuuri let out might have added a year or two to Viktor’s life and he decided then and there he needed to hear Yuuri lose himself in laughter.

Yuuri thanked Viktor once again for the macaroons and, though Viktor would gladly have stayed until he was forced to leave, he knew he had to get Makkachin home. She needed her rest. So, Viktor responded with a simple, “I hope to see you at Stammi Vicino soon, Yuuri!”

Viktor did not, in fact, see Yuuri soon. It was nearly two weeks before Viktor next saw Yuuri, and it was agony. He didn’t have any other way to reach Yuuri other than waiting and hoping he’d stroll in through the front door. Viktor spent most of his time trying to create new recipes, trying to come up with more exciting pastries. But nothing seemed to be turning out quite right. Until, finally, Yuuri came back.

That meeting was the turning point in their not-a-relationship. At least, that’s what Viktor would say if asked. Viktor opened up about feeling lost as a pâtissier and Yuuri reached out. Literally. When Yuuri grabbed Viktor’s hand, Viktor was desperate to never let go. It was strange. Was this what all soulmate connections felt like? By all rights, Viktor actually knew very little about Yuuri. Yet, the idea of losing his touch, the idea of not being able to see him was almost too much to handle.

Which was why, as Yuuri was about to leave, he had all but shouted, “Can I have your number?” The desperation in his voice, perhaps, shocking him most of all. After that things began to change. They talked often, daily, hourly. Well, Viktor wanted to talk hourly but Yuuri’s schedule didn’t always allow for that.

Yuuri always texted back when he could, though. Even stealing minutes away during his breaks. It was such a relief to Viktor that he wasn’t the only one who couldn’t seem to bear staying away for long. He once said as much to Chris during one of their late-night phone calls.

“I’m glad things are going well, mon ami, though I do wish you would talk to him about the whole soulmate thing.”

“I will!” Viktor assured. “When he’s ready.”

“And when will that be?”

Viktor didn’t have an answer.

It wasn’t just from Chris he was hearing these doubts. Though Chris was definitely a lot more tactful about it.

“You’re an idiot.”

“That’s not conductive criticism, Yura.”

“You’re the biggest idiot I’ve ever met.”

Viktor didn’t look away from the stove, where he was preparing dinner for himself and the son of a family friend. He hadn’t even meant to talk to young Yuri Plisetsky about this soulmate business. It had just slipped out after receiving a text from Yuuri. He couldn’t help but gush. But apparently Yura didn’t seem think it was worth gushing over.

“He’s your soulmate, right?” Yura pressed on, not waiting for an answer, “You should just be able to talk to him about anything!”

“It’s not that simple,” Viktor replied wisely, ignoring the fact he had thought the same thing until just a couple months ago.

“Don’t you think it’s been long enough? He sounds like a real jerk to me,” Yura huffed from his place at the kitchen island.

Viktor frowned, “He’s anything but a jerk. He’s the sweetest, kindest, most beautiful and encouraging and caring and—“

“I get it!” Yura cut off with a frown of his own. “Doesn’t change that he’s hurting you.”

Suddenly, Viktor felt frozen where he stood. Hurting me? It didn’t sound right. Yuuri wasn’t capable of hurting him. Sure, sometimes he felt… empty when they parted ways. But that wasn’t anything new. He wasn’t fool enough to think everything would suddenly be perfect now that he met his soulmate. He felt more inspired now than he had in years. Wasn’t that, in part, thanks to Yuuri?

Viktor thought he was doing so much better now compared to how he was a couple months ago. Creating more, sleeping more, eating better. No, Yuuri wasn’t hurting him.

He didn’t say any of this out loud, however, instead responding with a teasing, “Aw, Yura, I didn’t realize you cared!”

“Fuck off, you’re deflecting,” Yura grumbled. “You always do that when I’m right.”

“Come Yura, dinner’s done, let’s eat!”

Yuuri had been coming to Stammi Vicino more and more frequently. Likewise, Viktor had been making more and more new pastries for Yuuri to try. Perhaps it wasn’t the best business technique to constantly give away free food. But it was for Yuuri and, of course, he needed someone to taste the new pastries before putting them on the display. At least, that’s what he told Yuuri whenever he questioned Viktor.

Honestly, Viktor was feeling better than ever. He found his passion again, Makkachin was recovering wonderfully, and he was slowly falling in love. Sure, he still felt nervous about bringing up the soulmate business, afraid to scare Yuuri off. But surely these things would sort themselves out.

Viktor felt more comfortable around Yuuri, and he could tell Yuuri was beginning to feel comfortable around him as well. Flirting came easily and joking around came even moreso.

“This is amazing!” Yuuri complimented Viktor’s newest creation, a beignet . Yuuri patted his stomach, jokingly adding, “If you keep feeding me all these desserts, I won’t be able to see my toes.” It wasn’t a joke told in a self-deprecating way and it made Viktor all the fonder.

“Just means there’s more of you to adore,” Viktor replied genuinely. Viktor adored every single part of Yuuri. From his beautiful eyes, to his double chin, to his adorable stomach, to the way he blushed all the way to the roots of his hair.

“V-Viktor!” Viktor couldn’t help but chuckle lightly. “What will you do for dinner?” Yuuri asked, completely obvious in his attempt to change the topic. Viktor hummed in thought, he didn’t have any real plans for dinner. If he were to be honest, he didn’t often eat a “real” dinner. Spending the whole day baking meant he didn’t really feel like cooking by the time he got home. Sometimes he ordered out or picked up takeout. Sometimes he just wasn’t hungry, the idea of food almost repulsive. Most of the time, he just ate some fruit. Unless Yura was over, Viktor rarely cooked.

Before he could answer, though, Yuuri asked, “Would you like to come back to my place for dinner?”

Viktor blinked, wondering if he heard correctly. When the words registered, Viktor wouldn’t have been able to stop the smile that split across his face if he tried. This would be their first-time meeting outside Stammi Vicino or Celestino’s Animal Hospital. It was their next big relationship milestone!

Viktor eagerly agreed and Yuuri started rambling nervously. “I don’t live far! I hope you don’t mind Thai food. I promised my roommate I’d cook him tom yum goong tonight.”

“Never had,” Viktor commented as he finished closing up the shop. Falling into step with Yuuri, he reassured, “I’m sure it’s delicious.” His was silent for a moment before remembering Yura was at his apartment with Makkachin. “Mind if I make a call quick?” he asked. Yuuri, of course, shook his head and Viktor dialed Yura’s number. “Hello Yura!” he greeted in Russian.

“You’re late. When are you getting back? I’m starving!” he responded dramatically and Viktor had to suppress a chuckle.

“Actually, ah, would you mind having dinner on your own?”

“You’re with your soulmate, aren’t you.” It wasn’t a question.

“He invited me to dinner, Yura! Isn’t that wonderful?”

“Are you finally going to talk to him?”

“I think I left my card by the computer. You can order a pizza for dinner if you’d like!”

There was a long sigh before Yura responded, loudly. “Don’t be an idiot!”

“Thanks for watching Makkachin!” Viktor said with forced cheer before ending the call.

As soon as his phone was slipped back into his pocket, Yuuri hesitantly asked, “Everything okay?”

“Oh yeah, that’s just how he is,” Viktor replied easily. “Son of a family friend, he’s watching Makkachin for me today, since she wasn’t up to coming to work.”

“He sounded pretty angry…”

Viktor couldn’t help but laugh at that. “Nah, that’s just how he expresses concern.” And happiness. And sadness. And tiredness. And any other emotion under the moon.

“Concern?” Oh, now Yuuri sounded concerned. Had he said something wrong? “Is Makkachin okay?”

“Of course!” Viktor was quick to assure. “The concern was…” Viktor struggled to find a suitable answer and decided the truth was best, “for me. I don’t usually, ah, go out.”

As Viktor followed Yuuri up the stairs to the apartment, Yuuri started making apologies for the size of his apartment. Viktor thought Yuuri was just being polite. Like how people always apologize “for the mess” even when their apartment is perfectly spotless. Viktor was guilty of that. He could spend the whole day cleaning, mopping, and dusting and still say, “Ah, sorry for the mess,” when inviting someone in.

Yuuri was not just being polite. It was quite the small apartment. It might have been the cozy type of small if not for the horrid conglomeration of furniture and decorations. It wasn’t even done artfully. It looked like one day Yuuri and his roommate had just gone to a thrift store and threw everything they saw into a basket and bought it, just to cover up extra space on bookshelves and on the walls… and on their coffee table.

Some of the decorations looked nice, like something Yuuri or his roommate might have gotten from their respective homes. But they were overshadowed by the weirder decorations they had.

Realizing he hadn’t said anything yet, Viktor spoke without thinking, “It’s, uh, very… lived in.” He winced at his word choice.

Yuuri laughed though. Full on laughed and Viktor felt his soul ascend. His laugh was just as beautiful as Viktor had imagined it to be. He already ached to hear it again. “Don’t strain yourself,” Yuuri replied good naturedly, “you can be honest.”

Viktor didn’t hold himself back, “It’s extraordinarily clash-y. That’s an achievement all on its own.” Yuuri chuckled again and Viktor couldn’t help but smile.

“It’s temporary. None of this is coming with me when I eventually leave.”

“Good.”

“Except the couch.” The couch was probably the worst thing in the room. A god awful plaid design in foul shades of green. Viktor had never hated the color green more than in that moment. It had tears and was falling apart. There’s no way Yuuri would take it with him. Still, he played along with the joke, giving the couch a particularly disgusted look.

For the third time in one evening, Yuuri laughed and Viktor couldn’t have felt more thankful. He led them to the kitchen, commenting, “I’m not the best cook, but I’ve gotten pretty good at this dish.”

Viktor was certain Yuuri was just being modest, but decided he’d save final judgement for after the meal was cooked. “Make it often?”

“Kind of? Twice a semester, usually. It’s Phichit’s favorite, so I make it for him around midterms and after finals.” Viktor smiled. Yuuri was so kind. Phichit was lucky to have him as a roommate. For a moment, he let his mind wander, wondering what it’d be like to live with Yuuri. Teaching Yuuri to make his favorite dishes, learning Yuuri’s favorite dishes.

He shook himself out of those thoughts, responding, “I look forward to it. Need help with anything?”

Yuuri refused Viktor’s help and, if he were honest, he was a bit glad. Yuuri hit the nail right on the head when he said, “You spend all day baking, I can get this.” They talked for a while as they waited for the food to finish.

“Is that a playstation?” Viktor asked, gesturing towards the living room.

“Yeah, a PS4. Do you play?” Yuuri asked excitedly.

Viktor almost felt bad for shaking his head. “No, I’m afraid not.”

“I haven’t played much lately,” Yuuri commented. “I’ve been pretty busy.”

Viktor nodded his understanding, “Maybe we can play something sometime. Together.”

Yuuri smiled, nodding eagerly, “That’d be fun! Do you like horror?”

“As a genre?” Viktor most certainly did not.

“I have some really interesting horror games.”

Oh gosh, how could Viktor be expected to deny a Yuuri that looked so excited at the prospect. Weakly, he agreed, “Okay, let’s play them together some time!”

Before they knew it, dinner was done and they were seated at the dining table. Yuuri was watching Viktor closely and Viktor understood the feeling. Wanting to see the reaction to a homecooked dish. He took a bite and was immediately flooded with a wonderful mixture of flavors. “Wow! It’s delicious, Yuuri!”

Yuuri blushed, but Viktor could tell he was pleased. “Even I can’t mess up boiling soup.”

Viktor tsk’d. “It was more than that, I watched you make it,” he chided lightly. Viktor ate slowly, savoring the taste and the time that he could spend with Yuuri. There was only so long he could take with eating soup before it would be strange, though, and he was forced to finish his dinner.

Conversation hit a lull and Viktor worried he was overstaying his welcome. Before he could excuse himself, however, Yuuri seemed to all but blurt out, “Want to watch a movie?”

Viktor agreed almost immediately, deciding he’d watch the scariest horror movie imaginable if it meant spending more time with Yuuri. Still, he was relieved when Yuuri went with a comedy. He sat down next to Yuuri, wanting nothing more than to curl against him, rest his head on Yuuri’s shoulder. Be closer in any way possible. He didn’t want to push, however. There was a boundary. One that Yuuri had put up and Viktor was too afraid to push against the boundary.

Viktor needn’t have worried about the boundary. About halfway through the film, Viktor felt warmth against his thigh. Glancing down, he saw Yuuri’s leg pressed against his. Was it an accident? Judging by how resolutely Yuuri was staring at the screen, he doubted it. There was no way he was genuinely that interested in this film. Yuuri had his hand clenched in a fist, resting tensely on his thigh. Smiling softly to himself, Viktor reached over and put his hand over Yuuri’s. Finally, Yuuri’s gaze jolted to meet Viktor’s. Yuuri’s hand relaxed under Viktor’s and the smile Yuuri gave in return was infinitely softer.

Viktor rubbed circles on Yuuri’s hand with his thumb, reassuringly. He wanted this for so long. Just being able to hold hands felt indescribably precious. Maybe he could finally find the courage to ask about Yuuri’s soulmark. Get all of this out in the open once and for all.

Perhaps sensing Viktor’s thoughts, Yuuri tensed up. “Viktor, I—“ he started but was cut off by the sound of the front door opening. Yuuri jumped in shock, tearing his hand away from Viktor and scooting further away in the process. The loss left Viktor feeling strangely cold.

“Yuuri!” a voice called and Viktor could only assume it was Phichit. Viktor watched as Phichit came into the living room. Immediately, he leaned over the back of the couch and wrapped his arms around Yuuri, his face finding a home in the crook of Yuuri’s neck.

Viktor felt jealously settle in his stomach. Viktor didn’t consider himself a jealous person in the least. But seeing the easy intimacy Phichit and Yuuri shared, an intimacy Viktor craved but seemed unable to figure out how, he couldn’t help the feeling.

“Bad day at work?” Yuuri asked softly as he patted Phichit’s arm. The same hand he had just been holding. Viktor felt like an outsider in this conversation. “There’s tom yum goong on the stove.”

“You’re the best, Yuuri!” Finally, finally , Phichit straightened and looked surprised to see Viktor on the couch.

Viktor wasn’t sure what to make of the look Phichit shot Yuuri before Yuuri introduced him. “Viktor, this is Phichit. Phichit, Viktor.”

“Nice to meet you!” Phichit chirped. “I’ve heard lots about you!”

“Likewise.” Viktor hadn’t meant for his tone to sound so terse. He shouldn’t hold it against Phichit that he couldn’t just talk to Yuuri. Phichit hadn’t done anything. Despite this, his traitorous tongue commented as soon as Phichit left, “You two seem… close.”

“Phichit’s my, ah, soulmate. And I couldn’t ask for a better one.”

Being stabbed would have hurt less than those words. Spoken so softly. Carelessly. With no regard for Viktor’s heart.

“But, uh, we aren’t—“

“Don’t.” Viktor cut off. He didn’t want to hear how that sentence ended. He didn’t want to hear Yuuri define their relationship without Viktor’s say again. Whatever ‘we aren’t’ isn’t for you to decide , Viktor thought, unable to get the words out. Too many feelings were overwhelming him. Such a far cry from when he felt nothing but numb.

Being numb would be better.

“What? Viktor—“ Yuuri tried again.

“I,” Viktor said as loudly as he could, cutting Yuuri off. He didn’t want to yell, though. He wasn’t that type of person. When he finished, his voice was quieter. Wavering. “I’m not sure what kind of game you’re playing, but I never took you to be cruel, Yuuri.”

Was he crying?

Viktor looked down at his lap, his vision beginning to blur with unshed tears.

In all the months that they knew each other, why hadn’t Yuuri mentioned Phichit was his soulmate . It was always roommate this, roommate that. Never soulmate . Was this all a game to Yuuri? Who’s words were branded across Viktor’s ribcage? Who had Viktor’s words staring accusingly up from his wrist.

A wrist which was far too close to his face. Was he flaunting the words now? As he pushed back Viktor’s hair. “What are you doing?” Viktor wasn’t sure his voice had ever been so cold in his life.

“I… don’t understand.”

Neither did Viktor. He grabbed Yuuri’s wrist, fingers wrapping around the mark that had taunted him since they met, and pushed it away from his face. Viktor had never touched Yuuri without permission. Always aware of the space between them. What made Yuuri think he could so careless touch him? “I’m angry, okay?” Viktor immediately stood up, putting space between him and Yuuri. He needed to leave. He needed some air. He needed to be away from Yuuri and his sad expression. “I think it’s best I leave.”

Yuuri stood up as well, “Viktor, wait, let’s talk!”

Viktor didn’t think he could talk right now without saying something he’d regret in anger. He wouldn’t let his emotions get the best of him. “I can’t right now,” he tried to say calmly, though he suspected he failed. “I need… to get home. To Makkachin.” It was a relief Yuuri didn’t stop him.

(10:01) Can I come by today? Please. I want to talk

Viktor saw the text and ignored it.

“ Now he wants to talk,” he commented to Makkachin, showing her the text as if she could understand it. Chris was right. Hell, Yura was right.

It didn’t seem right to say that Yuuri was playing with him the whole time. Everything he knew about Yuuri didn’t fit with the picture of a person who would toy with his feelings, only to throw him away once Yuuri got bored.

“Doesn’t change that he’s hurting you.”

Viktor put all his frustration into kneading the dough.

“I couldn’t ask for a better one.”

Viktor’s eyes burned with unshed tears.

He never thought Yuuri would hurt him. At least not intentionally. But what other intention could have been behind those words? Viktor couldn’t think of any situation in which Yuuri didn’t know how much those words would hurt.

Hours passed as Viktor continue his work, creating pastries, talking to customers. Eventually he felt calm enough to text Yuuri back.

(14:37) Fine.

It wasn’t even three minutes later that Yuuri arrived at Stammi Vicino, out of breath, hair and eyes wild. Viktor wouldn’t let himself be taken in by him though. Not again. Not until the air was finally cleared.

“We’re platonic!” Yuuri blurted and Viktor felt a twinge in his heart before Yuuri continued. “Me and Phichit. We’re not together.”

“So?” Viktor did all he could to keep his face completely blank. Whether Phichit and Yuuri were platonic soulmates, romantic soulmates, or soulmates of another kind entirely didn’t matter to Viktor. Not after the words Yuuri slung at Viktor so callously.

“So?” Yuuri was still out of breath, talking between heavy exhales.

“So what?”

“So…” Yuuri shook his head, and Viktor felt confused at the confusion on Yuuri’s face. “So, that’s not why you’re… angry?”

“Try again.”

“Because I didn’t mention it sooner?” That was part of it, Viktor conceded mentally, though it wasn’t enough. He could have easily forgiven that part. “I can’t understand if you don’t tell me,” Yuuri pleaded, frustration tinging his voice.

Try as he might, he couldn’t keep the bitterness from seeping into his words, “’I couldn’t ask for a better’ soulmate.”

“ That’s why you’re upset?” Yuuri sounded incredulous, like he couldn’t imagine why those words would hurt Viktor. “I… I’m not sorry Phichit’s my soulmate.” There was a pause and Viktor wasn’t even sure how to respond. He felt so lost, so confused, so hurt . “Just… just because we’re not, you know, soulmates doesn’t mean…” The words felt like a punch to the gut and Viktor knew he was failing at keeping his face blank, judging by the reaction Yuuri had. “Viktor, I… like you. I don’t care who my soulmate is, we can try. Can’t we?”

Nothing Yuuri said made sense. “I don’t understand,” Viktor replied, his voice small, sounding as if it was coming from somewhere far away. “You say you like me but deny our soulmarks in the same breath,” he was gaining speed. More emotion than he knew how to handle flooded into his system. “Why are you so… so... adamant about us not being soulmates?” All the emotions seemed to mix together and the only one he could grasp was anger.

“Because we aren’t!”

“I saw your mark, okay? I know!” Yuuri was never subtle about his mark. Sometimes it felt like Yuuri was showing it off in front of Viktor. The thought hurt more thinking back on it.

“What?”

“You had your sleeves pushed up, at the vet when we met. I know.” Yuuri had no right to look as confused as he did and Viktor could only think to do what he did best—make impulsive decisions. He all but ripped his shirt up, showing off his soulmark. “You think I wouldn’t remember meeting my soulmate?” Viktor threw his shirt back down. “Twenty-eight years I waited to hear these words. A-and you just act like… like…” The anger was gone. It felt like all that was left was defeat. Exhaustion.

“Viktor,” Yuuri interrupted, pulling up his sleeve. He needn’t have bothered, Viktor was well acquainted with what was beneath his sleeve. “You said ‘my dog’ first.”

“No! Viktor grabbed Yuuri’s wrist without thinking. His grasp was gentle, though. Despite everything, the mark was precious. Why was Yuuri still denying it? Wasn’t the farce over? “This was my first word to you…”

“It’s not possible. We.. we can’t be…” Yuuri looked at his wrist, an intense look on his face.

“Do you honestly not remember?” Viktor asked softly. Was that even possible? Had Viktor read the whole situation wrong? This whole time?

“I just… remember Makkachin.”

Of course. Viktor huffed a humorless laugh, “Why is it you only ever remember my dog?”

Yuuri was silent, eyes closed as he thought. Suddenly his eyes popped open. “ You’re ‘Sorry.’” It was in that moment Viktor realized that, perhaps, what he thought was a clever little introduction just made things more confusing. “No, I mean, you’re my soulmate. Why… didn’t you say anything?”

“I did!” Viktor finally let go of Yuuri’s wrist. He had tried so hard to tell Yuuri but everything had just been so difficult. Nothing ever came out right. “When you came here the first time, I told you! Y-you didn’t remember me,” Viktor frowned. Yuuri opened his mouth, likely to protest, but Viktor wasn’t finished. He spoke up before Yuuri had the chance, “And! The second time. It was, like, I don’t know, you were… teasing me? How could you forget our first words, you know? When I had been waiting my whole life to hear them. You seemed… frustrated when I pushed the topic…”

He saw the exact moment realization washed over Yuuri. His expression going from understanding to guilt to acceptance. “What did you even think of me…?”

Viktor swallowed. It wasn’t all positive, but Yuuri didn’t need to hear that. Viktor wasn’t so foolish as to believe he wasn’t also to blame here. If not mostly to blame. “I thought you just, I guess, wanted to get to know each other without the pressure of… soulmarks? I was willing to pretend if you were, if that’s what you wanted.” Viktor swallowed audibly. It sounded so silly once he said it out loud. “But when you said that you couldn’t hope for a better soulmate than Phichit… it felt like an… like a stab at me.”

“Oh Viktor, I am so sorry!” Yuuri looked so distressed at the realization, reaching out to Viktor. Viktor didn’t hesitate in grabbing Yuuri’s hands. “I… had no idea.”

“I realize that now…” Viktor replied, feeling foolish. He definitely should have listened to Chris, he should have been more adamant about talking with Yuuri.

It had just felt easier and safer to ignore it.

“It’s just… I had given up on finding this,” Yuuri shook the hand with his soulmark, “soulmate. I figured, if I ever met them, then that’d be that. And… I started falling for you and I knew it didn’t matter if we weren’t soulmates. But… you’re him.”

“I’m him,” Viktor squeezed Yuuri’s hands.

“I’m sorry I hurt you. I never… I would have never…”

Viktor shook his head. It had hurt a lot, but he forgave Yuuri. This wasn’t something he could hold against Yuuri. “I really made a lot of assumptions, huh?”

Viktor’s heart clenched when Yuuri pulled a hand away, though he immediately relaxed when all Yuuri did was place the hand on Viktor’s ribcage. “I can’t believe it.”

He didn’t think in his next action, raising Yuuri’s mark to his lips and pressing a firm kiss against Yuuri’s skin. “I’ve been looking for you my whole life.”

He let go of Yuuri’s hand, giving him the chance to pull away. Instead, Yuuri caressed Viktor’s cheek and Viktor could have wept at the feeling. “Kiss me please?”

Viktor swallowed as he pulled Yuuri close. His heart was threatening to beat out of his chest. He meant it with his entire being when he replied, “Nothing I want more.”

Viktor had imagined how it would to kiss Yuuri, to feel his lips against his. Nothing he had imagined could ever beat how it felt to finally hold Yuuri close. It was the first kiss they would share, but far from the last. Viktor couldn’t wait to exchange so many he couldn’t possibly hope to keep count.