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“Long time no see, Yuuri!”
How was it that Viktor was learning to use the door this time? In the creeping fog of a post-breakdown exhaustion, he had expected Viktor to come through the fire exit in Phichit’s room again. The first time he’d done it, the look on his new roommate had been priceless.
Then Yuuri focused on Viktor, blinked, took off his glasses and cleaned them before shoving them back up his face. Nope, no changes.
Was this really his Heartache of close to ten years? The young man standing on the other side of the threshold certainly resembled him a lot. That smile was very hard to replicate. If it really was him-
Damn, puberty. I’d love to get a boost like that too.
“Wow… you knocked.” Yuuri deadpanned, his body reminding himself just how dead inside he was. Viktor returned the tone with a look that said, ‘Really? After I was so happy to see you?’ but showed himself into the flat anyway. Yuuri closed the door behind him and stared as Viktor took off his coat.
Even with him being emotionally drained and detached, he still can’t get it out of his mind how different Viktor was from… what? Almost a year ago?
Gone was the slender body of a teenager, with Viktor filling out a young adult’s body in all the right places. Even the plain black shirt was doing enough to accentuate just how fit his Heartache’s body was. He just wished he wasn’t feeling like shit so he could appreciate this view more.
“Uwa, this place is a mess, Yuuri.” Viktor admonished, turning to face him with a pout and frown. “I understand that you’re in a pit of despair right now, but you could stand to not leave the laundry where guests could see them.”
Yuuri spared the offending articles a minute glance then back to the other. He really didn’t have the energy to argue. “Err… right. Sorry. I’ll fix it later.” He replied, scratching the back of his ear in an attempt to look the part.
The silver-haired Heartache slapped a hand to his forehead and sighed. He looked briefly annoyed, but in the next second he’d traversed the short space between them and swept Yuuri up into a hug.
“Wh- Viktor?!” This wasn’t usual. His Heartache never did this before and it threw him off. Also, Viktor was tall.
“Looking mopey doesn’t suit you at all, Yuuri.” Viktor whispered, breath tickling the shell of Yuuri’s ear. “Is it that bad?”
Yuuri made a face he was sure Viktor couldn’t see. “And how many times have we met already? I thought you Heartaches know why we humans feel like this.” He replied dryly.
“We get the context.” Viktor replied, with no small amount of underlying frustration. “Just because we pop up like healthy kegs of beer when you need a pick-me-up doesn’t mean we understand your whole situation to heart.” In a lighter situation, Yuuri would have called Viktor out on his strange analogy. The Heartache dropped his arms away from the skater and stepped back, never taking his eyes off him.
There was always something calming about Viktor, to the point his presence was like a salve to a burn he pretended wasn’t hurting him.
When Yuuri started to cry as soon as he returned to the flat, he’d felt it. That stinging burn of failure at his own hands. He managed to get into seniors shortly after his highschool graduation and before he flew for Detroit. He’d kept his hopes up, his head high, and in hindsight it may have been blind pride that kept him from seeing that he really wasn’t good enough for his dream. Failing to make it into the qualifying slots despite giving his all was a harsh wake up call to cold hard reality.
But he hadn’t realized it earlier, because every time he’d started to doubt, Viktor was there to put a stop to it.
Was this also what the whispers that he’d been hearing meant? That Heartaches were dangerous in their own deceitfully innocent way? Offering unbiased comfort, preventing one’s heart from breaking under the weight of emotion, conveniently the first companion to appear when their ‘humans’ were down on their knees and luck. Social media. The gossip pages. Even snippets of conversation he’d hear every day. Doubts of what benefits Heartache have on humanity. Were they saviors? Or rather…
“So I… noticed you’re looking a bit older.” Yuuri blurted out, forcefully tuning out his own thoughts.
Unaware of his inner turmoil, Viktor laughed. “Is it the haircut?” He asked, running a gloved hand through his short hair. “I thought I’d give myself a new look. And then thought, ‘Ah, would Yuuri still recognize me even without the long hair?’”
Yuuri shook his head. “I’d always recognize you. I mean, you’re mi- my Heartache. What I meant was, you were a teenager one moment, and then suddenly you aged up this fast. Does it have anything to do with us or is this just something Heartaches just do?”
The genuine smile thrown his way was enigmatic in more ways than one. “Who knows? Maybe it has something to do with your needs, maybe it doesn’t. I can’t answer that because I don’t have what you’re looking for.”
Or that you just don’t want to answer it. Just what are you, Viktor? His thoughts were inching back onto that dark track and he desperately didn’t want to go there. He had to think of something else, quickly.
“Did you gain some weight? Like the usual puberty side-effects?” He asked the first thing that came to the forefront of his mind.
Viktor gasped.
“Yuuri! That’s rude, you don’t tell a person they gained weight! And this is muscle, compared to your paunch.” Viktor took a light jab at the younger man’s middle and looked a mix of satisfied and dismayed to see it bounce under the shirt.
There was a heavy pause before Viktor added, “… You need to lose weight.”
Yuuri’s answer was to slump on the couch and ignore Viktor’s concerned tone and equally concerned poking. Eventually tired of being ignored, Viktor adjusted the skater so that his head was on Viktor’s lap.
Beyond the walls of the flat was the sounds of the city that never seemed to be completely quiet even in this neighborhood. Inside though, the silence reigned as Yuuri tried his best to keep his thoughts where he could see them, then ignore them with little fear of consequence.
Glancing up, he observed the Heartache looking off somewhere he couldn’t see, a hand unconsciously carding through Yuuri’s mussed up hair. It felt nice, he had to admit. This situation may be born out of his stubbornness, but it had this surprising result.
Yuuri wasn’t blind. He knew things would only get more complicated as time passed and they get older. Would it be selfish of him to wish for the simple times to last longer? He longed for the times when Viktor would comfort him over a simple failed test, over a broken toy, or when he felt homesick for Hasetsu and its kinder crowd.
But Yuuri wasn’t blind. He’d never get those times back.
“So how long will you be staying?” Yuuri asked while Viktor finally laid his eyes on a pack of snacks and reached for it.
“That depends on you.” Viktor said in a light tone, opening a pack and then taking a bite out of a rice cracker. “How long are you going to mope around and feel sorry for yourself?”
Yuuri fought the urge to sigh and roll his eyes. “Fine. It was the US Figure Skating Eliminations. That had been my chance to qualify for the Four Continents and I flunked it so bad. I’ve been practicing all my life for that one moment and I failed because I underestimated how hard it was. Give a guy a break.”
“Ah, so is that, ‘failed for the first and final time?’” Viktor asked airily. “I’m getting subtext that’s very foreboding.”
“I’m actually thinking about taking a break. Focus on studies then get back after.”
Viktor took another bite, chewed then swallowed. He asked, “Is that going to make you feel any better? You’ve been working for this your whole life and one failure is enough to scare you off the ice?”
Yuuri was quick to defend. “I’m not scared! And stop eating that. Those belong to Phichit.”
“Denied. I’m eating these because I don’t gain as fast.” As if to prove his point, the Heartache took another cheerful bite.
Again with the fat hints. “I just told you those belong to… Why are you being difficult?” Yuuri groaned snappishly. He was this close to giving into the temptation to just do something incredibly stupid.
“Why are you changing the subject?” Viktor shot back calmly.
“I already told you, I can’t do this! Why can’t you understand that I just can’t?!” With a shout, Yuuri stood and made to storm off in a fresh fit of tears when he was jerked back and unceremoniously plopped back on the sofa. He didn’t scream or lash out as part of him so desired to. He was tired, emotionally and physically. There was only so much he could take before he ate himself alive.
“Yuuri. Yuuri…” Viktor spoke, then repeated his name in a gentler tone. The younger man refused to look him in the eyes. He couldn’t allow Viktor to pull him into another false of security.
“Yuuri, look at me.”
It was wholly unfair that his name sounded so good rolling off Viktor’s baritone. Shoulders slumping in defeat, he hesitantly faced the blue-green gaze and put on the best glare he could muster.
They held each other’s gazes for a long while, neither making a move to look away. Viktor’s gaze seemed to be searching for something Yuuri couldn’t even begin to fathom. And he himself wanted to sleep the week away, but damn him if he can’t even find the backbone to stare down his own Heartache. Eventually, it was Viktor who broke eye contact, yet he moved to hold both of Yuuri’s hands in his own.
“Do you trust me, Yuuri?” Yuuri could almost laugh at the question.
Why ask him such a question now?
“I don’t know.” He admitted. The hands holding his froze for a second, before they relaxed. A quiet laugh escaped the silver-haired Heartache’s lips.
“I guess not. Would kissing you make you trust me more?” And Viktor looked like he genuinely considered it too.
Yuuri felt his lip twitch up, just a little. “I doubt it would.” But I guess it would feel nice. He added as an afterthought. Still, it seemed like his Heartache wouldn’t want to come away empty-handed. He leaned in close, tilting his head up just so he could place a quick peck on Yuuri’s forehead.
A fleeting contact, yet to the skater it felt like a different kind of burn.
“I’m not here to shelter you. You’re not nine anymore.” Viktor spoke, “But I’m not about to let you make decisions that you’d regret a few days after you’ve made them.”
“How’d you know it would be that stupid?”
“I don’t. But I’ve known you long enough that this isn’t the ending to your story.” Viktor confessed, ignoring Yuuri’s jab at himself. “So it won’t be. You’ll be the best skater this world has ever seen.”
Trust Viktor to be poetic and optimistic. Yuuri could only give him a small smile in response. He allowed himself a small reprieve and pressed his forehead against Viktor’s shoulder, closing his eyes and just not think.
“Looks like I’ll be here a while.” Viktor said almost to himself. Then in a louder voice, he asked, “Where’d your friend head off to anyway?”
“Conservatory friends of his.” Yuuri responded lazily. Viktor could get the context anyway.
Speak of the devil. Both of them heard the shuffling of keys and the soft creak of the door quickly being muffled by Phichit’s quick footfalls against the floorboards and his perpetually energetic voice.
“Yuuri! I heard about the US Eliminations. Here, cheer up! I bought-” Phichit cut himself off once he saw Viktor. Not Viktor and Yuuri’s closeness. Just Viktor. Yuuri could tell because Phichit had that same look from last time. From his seat on the couch, the silver-haired Heartache waved politely.
“Hello again, Phichit!”
“Oh my God, Viktor! When did you get so hot?!” Phichit screamed and scrambled to take his phone out. “Ah! No battery! Wait right there and don’t move, Viktor!” Then Phichit was off like a bullet into his room while Viktor decidedly moved to peer into the takeout bags that Phichit had hastily dropped on their coffee table.
Whatever moment they had quickly faded as Viktor’s attention was taken from him and worrisome noises were coming from Phichit’s room.
“Yuuri, Phichit brought katsudon!” Viktor beamed at him like a child in a candy store.
Yuuri sighed. Between Phichit and Viktor, there was an incredibly large chance his misery was going to be replaced by something close to embarrassment. Looking to a corner of the room where a box sat collecting dust, he sincerely hoped he had time to hide his debit card before either of them could find it.
He doubt he would be able to explain to his parents about another Amazon shipment of bizarre vegetable costumes.
This was going to be a long night.