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Victor had memorized Yuuri’s schedule down to the minutia. And he thought that was very impressive, given the rotating block schedule that their school functioned on.
Whenever he passed Yuuri in the hallway, which he tended to do because he had altered his routes to coincide with Yuuri’s, he would wait for Yuuri to pass him and then stand off to the side of the hallway and watch Yuuri get smaller and smaller until he disappeared.
Yuuri would always be laughing with Phichit about something, so he never noticed Victor’s being a creep every day. Fortunately.
“Ow!” Victor yelped, rubbing his arm.
“Victor.”
He looked down to see Mila pulling back for another punch.
“You’re embarrassing us all,” she said with a frown even more severe than the last one. “You’re more embarrassing than Georgi. And that says a lot.”
Victor cupped her fist in his hand and pushed it down to her side. “Look, Mila, I see you making eyes at Sara all the time.”
“Yeah, but she’s not a creep like you,” somebody else chimed in as he passed the group. “And get to class, losers.”
Victor scowled at Yuri’s back. “You’re just jealous!”
“Of what?” Yuri scoffed, not even turning back. “You haven’t even told Yuuri anything. The whole school except him knows that you’re embarrassingly whipped!”
Victor flapped his mouth open and closed, unable to come up with something to say in response. Yuri rounded the corner, and Victor turned back to say something indignant to Mila, but she was gone too.
The late bell chimed in helpfully.
“Shit,” Victor muttered, turning on his heel to sprint to class.
Victor spent the next class period thinking about what he could do about this situation. Yuri was a little right, as much as he hated to admit it.
If Victor didn’t do something, he’d be doomed to staring at Yuuri’s back everyday until they both graduated and went to different parts of the country. And then there would be zero chance at all.
He chewed thoughtfully on the end of his pencil, a bad habit he’d never managed to get rid of. It came back particularly strongly whenever he was nervous, which he was.
Victor, he tried to hype himself up, you’re popular. You’re handsome. You’re devastatingly charming. You’re…
Victor placed his pen on the paper and began to write a note to Yuuri. He’d slip it to the other boy in the next period, their only shared class, and if it went poorly, well, Victor wouldn’t have much to lose.
Victor was still writing when he got to his next class. It wasn’t exactly surprising, since he could write actual essays about Yuuri, which he knew from personal experience. He once wrote over seven hundred words on why he liked Yuuri’s sense of humor, and then devolved into praising his artistic talent.
But he would have to wrap it up before the end of the period, because he wouldn’t see Yuuri again for another two days, and he might die of anticipation if that happened.
Ah, perfect.
He signed his name with a flourish.
Now the only logistical issue would be somehow delivering this letter across the room.
Maybe he could get Yuuri’s attention first.
Their calculus teacher tended to lecture with his back to the class so he could work out the problems on the board, so Victor took this opportunity to aim a paper airplane at Yuuri’s head.
Victor winced.
Yuuri was looking around the classroom and rubbing his head with a confused expression, not noticing the airplane that had bounced onto the ground.
Victor stared at him with laser concentration, hoping that a god would hear him and turn Yuuri’s eyes towards him.
Alas. Yuuri turned back to his work diligently with one last pat of his head.
Then, a miracle happened. Somebody tapped Yuuri’s shoulder, pointed to Victor, and then to the airplane on the ground.
Yuuri blushed as his eyes met Victor’s. Oops, Victor was probably being creepy again.
Shyly, Yuuri bent down to pick up the plane and slowly opened it. He looked at Victor with an expression even more confused than before. That poor, dense child.
I know you don’t really know me, but I have something for you.
Victor gave Yuuri an exaggerated grin and two thumbs up. After class, he mouthed.
“Nikiforov!”
Oh, shit. Victor whipped his head towards the front of the classroom. Mr. Feltsman was giving him a ferocious glare.
“Have you worked out this differential equation?”
What’s a differential equation?
“I thought not,” Mr. Feltsman said. “And are you doing other homework in my class?”
“No,” Victor squeaked, hurrying to shove his letter to Yuuri into his bag.
“Then why are you putting it away?” Yakov’s voice reached a bellow. “Bring it to me!”
“Yes, sir.”
Victor felt the life seep from his body. He felt his soul passing onto the next life. He was going to rest in peace and never see Yuuri’s face again. He was going to meet a vengeful god at the pinnacle of the heavens, and…
He was at Mr. Feltsman’s desk.
“Here.” Yakov stuck out his hand.
Victor obediently put the letter into it, though his mind was screaming at the volume of all the prisoners in the seventh ring of hell.
“Here you are, sir.”
Yakov gave him a dirty look and flipped the cover page open.
“Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate. Rough winds to shake the darling buds of May,” Yakov read gruffly. “Not English homework, eh?”
He skipped a few pages. “But soft! what light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Yuuri Katsuki is the sun.” Yakov paused here and read the next line in an unsure voice. “That’s.. you…?”
Suddenly, recognition dawned on the teacher’s face. He closed the letter and handed it back to Victor, and Victor almost caught a rare glance of sympathy on his face. “Don’t do anything other than calculus in my class. You may sit.”
Victor cringed, took the letter, and turned towards Yuuri to see how he was taking it. Ouch. Yuuri was burying his face into his hands and doing his best to curl into a ball.
Mila shot Victor a look that screamed, told you so, as Victor sat down.
“Well, at least you got Feltsman to read a Shakespeare love poem to the class,” Mila muttered, patting Victor in a failing effort to be comforting.
Victor sat as still as a stone. What just happened. How was he still alive. Did he just ruin his reputation?
As if Mila were reading his mind, she leaned over to whisper, “It’s okay. Everybody already knew you were head over heels.”
Victor slid further into his seat. Not helpful.
“And look, Yuuri’s glancing our way with a smile.”
Practically perking up at the news, Victor looked across the room, and for sure caught the eyes of his “sun.”