Chapter Text
In Yuri’s opinion, the worst thing about high school is that he has to wake up ridiculously early five days a week. Sure, P.E. sucks, so does English–oh God, Health, but you can easily tune out the incessant talk of middle-aged teachers about topics you don’t give a fuck about with earphones, you can doodle as much as you want all over your notes but the rest you were supposed to get the night before? That you can never get back, the shadows under his eyes will tell you that much. Yuri Plisetsky has never been a morning person, hell, he’s not even an afternoon person.
He’s not a bad student, it’s just that he isn’t interested in most classes. The only one he likes is World History and that only because Mr. Feltsman gets so intense about it, it draws your attention, he yells a lot when he’s not talking about anything history related, most students fear him but Yuri thinks the way his face gets all red when he’s mad or keyed up is hilarious. He also can be annoying as fuck but Yuri is oddly semi-fond of him.
It’s Monday and looking at the clock on his phone he realizes he’s late. As per usual.
He quickly gets up, goes to the bathroom, washes his face, brushes his teeth, pets his cat and tries to find the cleanest pair of jeans that currently litter his floor. It seems like his grandpa hasn’t seen his room because if he had, it would be clean already.
In the kitchen, he grabs something that could count for breakfast if you squint, it’s Monday, for fuck’s sake, who doesn’t sleep in on Mondays? Grandpa and Yuri always do, he probably isn’t up yet, while Yuri didn’t even have time to brush his hair just so he could arrive on time to listen to teachers like Turner talk shit. It’s his fault, really, that he didn’t wake up early enough to go through his usual morning routine but damn him if he’s not going to blame it all on the American education system.
Yuri hears the muffled sound of a notification from where his phone is in his hoodie.
I’m outside, the text reads.
He runs to grab his backpack from his room and gets out of the house unintentionally slamming the door. Bad habits die hard, good thing his grandpa is still sleeping.
Viktor’s car is parked on the street and he’s drumming his fingers inattentively on the steering wheel. He works the afternoon shift at the coffee shop today so he’s not in a rush. Yuri trots to the car and slams the door again when he gets in. Accidentally.
“You do know that Pop Tarts don’t count as breakfast, right?” Viktor asks warily eyeing the chocolate covered pastry Yuri is holding in one of his hands.
“‘F course they do,” he says giving it a bite.
Viktor sighs and shakes his head. A lost battle.
Yuri met Viktor a few years ago when he passed to the intermediate class. According to Lilia, he’s one of the best students she’s ever had in all her career, if not the best. Personally, Yuri thinks that’s bullshit. Viktor’s just a dork with great hair, a cute poodle, and a giant ego. He lacks discipline and is way too sentimental for ballet sometimes, always keen on finding his nameless feelings and translating them onto the stage, Yuri thinks he needs to cool his head or his heart for that matter. He swears to himself he only hangs around Viktor and his dramatic personality for the sake of his career as a dancer. And for the free rides. He’s okay most of the time though, sometimes even cool, but sparingly, very sparingly.
The car’s radio is at some random station, Viktor never bothers with music when it’s too early in the morning, he’s not a human being if he hasn’t finished his first cup of sickeningly sweet coffee. Yuri’s not exaggerating, he once had the audacity of stealing a sip once in his short life and he regrets it profusely, it was like 3 parts sugar and 1 coffee. It was awful.
He finds the aux cord in the glove compartment and puts his phone on shuffle, the music low.
Morning rides were usually quiet, Viktor not having much energy for talking in the morning without caffeine running through his system. Not today though, he’s rambling poetic about a guy he just met. It’s 7:45 AM, Yuri’s absolutely not listening to anything that’s coming out of Viktor’s mouth.
“I think you’ll meet him today and I’m sure you’ll get along just right,” Viktor chirps.
Yuri just grunts. He’s not interested in Viktor’s love life, he’s not even interested in his own love life. They’re right around the corner from his school now, he just has to bear this a few seconds more. Infatuation has Viktor talking like Mila. All ‘and he was like’, ‘and he’s so cute’, ‘and like, oh my God?’
When they get there, Viktor immediately stops talking.
“See you in a few hours!” He waves.
Yuri mutters a goodbye, which means thank you, and gets out of the car.
Emery High is a tall brick building with a façade that has seen better days but the interior isn’t that bad. Yuri had been nervous his first day of high school a year ago, but which teenager wasn’t? He didn’t sleep much and on his way there he had been trying to ignore his restless thoughts with loud, loud music. He had been excited, if only a bit, to later find out that high school is boring as fuck.
His first class is Algebra (great way to start a Monday), which Yuri is surprisingly good at but still dislikes it. Well, not Algebra itself–Yuri doesn’t hate a whole field of study but the class. Mr. Teng’s infuriating, he always makes stupid jokes and awkwardly waits for the class to get them but no one does because they’re all math related and honestly, who does that? Teng also has an artistic side, there’s this dude in the class named Patrick, and Yuri has never talked to the guy but he knows this because Teng keeps drawing Patrick Star and sometimes even Spongebob in that poor guy’s homework. He thinks he’s so damn funny.
Guang Hong and Seung-gil are already in the classroom when he gets there. Yuri takes a seat in his usual place, right next to the windows, he says hi to Guang Hong and nods to Seung-gil because that’s how things work between them and you just don’t high five stoic Seung-gil first thing in the morning unless you want to get glared or injured. Yuri’s never seen him hurt a fly but he’s sure he can kick ass.
“Yuri, dude,” Guang Hong says cheerily. He didn’t use to use the word ‘dude’, he got that from an excessive amount of hanging out with Leo and now calls absolutely everybody and their mother ‘dude’. “We’re going to decided what to do for our biology project after school. Leo and I were thinking tacos, maybe burgers, what do you think?”
“I don’t think tacos count as science.”
It’s a bad, bad pun but Guang Hong amuses him and snorts. “You know nothing, Yuri. Tacos are science. That stuff Taco Bell sells? It shouldn’t even be categorized as Mexican food. Or food, period.”
Yuri gives him a wry smile but says, “Sorry, I can’t.”
Guang Hong’s shoulders slump at his response.
Yuri likes Guang Hong, he’s friendly and easy to get along with and Yuri’s not being an asshole, he really can’t. He has ballet practice after school and it takes him a while to walk there. Yuri likes to think of walking as a warmup but in reality his bike broke months ago and he hasn’t saved the money to fix it because he can’t help but spend it on shit he doesn’t need. Asking Grandpa for the money isn’t an option, and when asked, Yuri will answer he thinks walking is good for his joints. (A lie). “But we can do it at lunch?” he offers.
“Yeah, sure,” is Guang Hong's half-hearted response. He doesn’t have the same lunch period as the rest of them and Yuri knows this, but none of them point it out.
He can feel Seung-gil glaring at the back of his skull. He knows he resents him for not hanging out with them more often but Yuri’s one busy, obsessive teenager and he’s determined to be perfect, if only when it comes to ballet. He’s seen it in the mirror at the studio, when an exercise is particularly hard and a small frown marks his otherwise impassive face.
He wants to say something, to amend his absence but he can’t think of anything. Yuri’s secretly afraid they’ll just stop hanging out with him or stop extending invitations because he doesn’t show up, that they may go as easily and they came, but a few moments later, before he’s able to make up his mind, Mr. Teng enters the classroom and that’s that.
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“Of course it’s science,” Yuri huffs. “How the fuck is it not science?”
“Wait, what if I like both?”
“You have to pick one,” he says accusingly pointing at Leo with the plastic fork he’s been chewing on for the past 3 minutes. Yuri didn’t wake up early enough today to get some actual food besides that single s’mores Pop Tart, so he’s currently occupying himself with the fork. He’s not planning on staying with an empty stomach the whole morning, he’ll have to buy a candy bar or something later. He doesn’t buy food in the cafeteria because he’s minding his spending but also because this school’s food is a disgrace. He’s pretty sure people in prison in Scandinavian countries eat better than a teenager in America. Why did grandpa’s dad move them here again?
They have been discussing what to do for their project for the first half of their lunch now and of course, of course, they haven’t gotten anywhere. Biology is the only class they share this year.
“Yuri, you can’t bullshit your way through this class,” remarks Seung-girl with his signature inexpressive tone.
“I’m not bullshitting my way through anything! Photobioreactors? Ant biodiversity? What the fuck?” he cries more dramatically than necessary because they’re just picking their mid-term project and it’s only October but hell, if he’s going to spend hours doing a dumb project he thinks he deserves to make it on something that actually interests him.
“Parker will kill us if we show up with a presentation analyzing the difference between ‘cat people’ and ‘dog people’, Yuri,” Leo says. “I think we should go for ant biodiversity, it’s way cooler that photobio-somethings.” Right, Leo just wants to pick ant biodiversity because he suggested it in the first place.
“I’m not getting my ass bitten by ants, Leo,” he fumes.
Yuri looks around the table, he doesn’t even know how he got here in the first place. Theirs was an unlikely friendship: Seung-gil is too quiet, almost creepy quiet, he’s probably a serial killer; Guang Hong is like a human puppy, Leo is too chill and Yuri has no chill at all.
Back in freshman year, Seung-gil had been a loner as was Yuri for the first month or so and suddenly, Yuri saw him all the time with Leo and Guang Hong like they were long time friends. He will never admit it to anyone but Seung-gil making friends before Yuri (who looks way cooler, mind you) was upsetting.
He honestly just wants to chew his fork in peace and pretend he doesn’t have homework or responsibilities. He almost fell asleep in Algebra and his next class is Health which Yuri loathes with every single fiber of his being.
“We do photobioreactors if you do the hard part,” Yuri tries to negotiate.
“Absolutely not. We all do it because it’s our grade,” Seung-gil answers. Yuri doesn’t even know why he even bothered to argue in the first place, he knows Seung-gil will win because he’s a thousand times better than Yuri at biology, there is nothing to negotiate. “It’s not going to be hard,” he sighs, annoyed.
They all end up agreeing because, well, Seung-gil. Guy's kinda scary when he wants to be, so they settle for photobioreactors. Yuri didn’t even know that word existed.
By the end of their lunch, Leo is trying to juggle with grapes and making the funniest faces that have Yuri laughing so hard he almost snorts the water he’s drinking. Looking around the table a second time, Yuri wishes he could skip practice today. He’s a little sorry, truly, that he has to hide stuff sometimes.
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Yuri’s leaving school at exactly 3:25 PM. If he’s fast, he will have enough time to grab something to eat and his stomach to digest the food so he doesn’t throw up in Lilia’s studio. He knows he shouldn’t be skipping meals but he promised himself that his bike will be fixed by the end of the month, so spending money on shitty cafeteria food was not even an option.
He said goodbye to a frowning Seung-gil after Government class and ran like hell. He even has his hoodie up and his earphones on. It’s impossible to not get the hint: Yuri doesn’t want to be bothered.
But then, there’s always fucking Mila.
“Yuri!” She jumps in front of him as she greets him, and Yuri accidentally steps on one of her feet.
He sees her say his name more than hear her. His music is loud enough to block any exterior sound and his own reeling mind.
“What.”
“Uh, someone’s grumpy today.”
Mila is one of those people. The cheery ones. After her sophomore year, which was quite a mess with the whole ‘discovering oneself’ thing after she and her boyfriend split up and many other family problems, she got her shit together. She’s on the volleyball team—got in on her freshman year, fucked up on her sophomore year and got back up for her junior year; she sleeps eight hours, has time to put makeup on in the morning, eats breakfast (unlike Yuri), trains and has decent to good grades. It’s the dream life. Yuri wonders how she manages to do all the shit she does and not be exhausted.
“I’m not fucking grumpy,” he huffs.
“Yeah, right,” she says with a roll of her eyes. “Anyway, what are you doing? Sara and I are getting ice cream when she gets from the library. Wanna go?”
“It’s Monday, Mila.”
“What about it?” She tilts her head.
“Teenagers are not allowed to go out on Mondays.” It’s a lie, at least he thinks so. If he asks Grandpa would probably say yes but he has practice so hanging out with friends on Mondays is not a thing he tends to do.
“Your grandpa would let you go out.” She smiles. “Especially because you’d be with me, and he knows me,” she finishes triumphantly.
He sighs and rolls his eyes. “Listen, I didn’t sleep that well last night so I want to go home and take a fucking nap, okay?”
Mila doesn’t have time to answer, though, because Sara arrives hugging Mila from the waist and says hi.
They’re gross. They look so coupley but they’re nowhere near dating. Yuri’s sick of them. They act like they’re together but when asked, they always say they’re best friends but Yuri knows better, Mila has had a crush on Sara for ages now. It all started after she broke up with her last boyfriend before this year’s summer started and Sara who at the moment had been nothing but a mere classmate Mila was in good terms with and shared homework, became a friend–a best friend and the rest is history, now the girls are this weird combination of unconditional friendship and sexual frustration.
Yuri can’t say that he didn’t notice Mila’s absences from their occasional movie night, a tradition she forced upon them. He’s not even a tiny bit jealous, by the way.
The downside and most depressing thing about the situation is that Yuri gets all the moping–at least from Mila’s part, he wonders how he’s surviving it all. Every time Mila texts Yuri is about something Sara said or did. Is it a hint? What does Yuri think?
Yuri doesn’t have any fucking clue. About Mila’s love life, or even life in general. He doesn’t know shit, he’s even more clueless than Sara Crispino herself and it’s all building up, Yuri nowadays is all apathy and a shit ton of anger toward nothing or no one in particular. He doesn’t know how anyone stands him.
Sara finally decides to acknowledge his existence. “Hi, Yuri!”
“Sup.”
“Are you coming with us?”
“No.”
“Oh,” she deflates. “Well, would you still wait for Michele with us?”
“No.” After a quick look to Mila’s disapproving gaze, Yuri realizes he’s being a dick and adds, “I can’t. I want to go home to get some sleep ‘cause I didn’t last night.”
Her frown quickly goes away after his explanation. She smiles. “Oh, sleep well then.”
Yuri used to think Sara was intimidating. And she is, when she wants to be, but she’s also kind. He can’t hate her, really, when she’s such a nice person. Even if she took away Yuri’s friend if only a bit.
He says his goodbyes and walks the way home. He’s not going there, though, he just rounds the block and walks to the studio so no one can see him.
For the record, Yuri didn’t feel the need to hide that he did ballet until 7th grade. He wasn’t bullied or anything, he was just the quiet kid that sat near the window and didn’t talk to anyone unless strictly necessary. It’s not that the kids in his school were assholes per se, they were okay, or at least he thought so for a while, until he heard Richard Harris ask a boy if he didn’t think that joining the dance team along with his girlfriend was going to make people think he was a faggot, jokingly. It was so insignificant in the grand scheme of things. Yuri wonders how he even heard the question in the loud, crowded hallway but he did and he has not been able to forget it ever since.
Yuri doesn’t consider himself ‘fragile’, he can be a little shit when he wants to. He’s not the personification of kindness and he doesn’t have time for niceties but he’s a teenager and isn’t it easier to get uncomfortable when you’re 16?
If Richard Harris had asked him that day and not the other boy, he, quiet, moody Yuri would have punched him straight in the jaw. Yuri’s lithe form is misleading, he can break your arm if provoked. He’s brave, he fends for himself when necessary but being on the sideline of that conversation left a mark.
It’s all very fucking stupid but that doesn’t mean he’s able to forget it.
He went into high school thinking it was going to be the same as in junior high, no friends, just project partners and whatnot but to his surprise, it wasn’t.
Yuri’s quietness doesn’t come from shyness, it comes from his inability at making friends, he can not take credit for getting the ones he already has. Mila ambled her way into Yuri’s life in the blur of moving houses. Guang-Hong, Leo, and Seung-gil decided to just talk to the quiet, intimidating guy after an uncomfortable session of staring (them) and ignoring it was happening (Yuri). Even Viktor might be a friend, but Yuri likes to think of him as the stray cat that will not leave so he just goes with it.
It’s nice, to have someone to talk to, even if he doesn’t say much, but that’s no one’s fault but his own.
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Yuri knows he sleeps in on Mondays so he always readies the things he needs for ballet the night before, even if he’s tired and he can barely keep his eyes open. He might be able to do it in his sleep. His current backpack is a purchase that came from that bad hallway memory and his shitty sleeping schedule. He couldn’t afford to go back home for his stuff and then head to Lilia’s studio. That would mean he’d be late, and Yuri has never, not even once, been late for practice.
The backpack is what Viktor calls a ‘studded monstrosity’, Yuri thinks it’s the fucking coolest bag ever produced. He spent a ridiculous amount of time on the internet searching for this particular backpack, he needed something functional but that he’d still like. Everything is neatly folded in what he likes to think of as his ‘secret compartment’ even though it’s just the laptop pocket, sometimes not all of his books fit in but Yuri is more than willing to sacrifice carrying a textbook than his demi-pointes. Unlike the jeans he found this morning on his bedroom floor, his practice clothes are clean and spotless. His shoes are in a little black pouch with silver animal print that Viktor gifted him for his thirteenth birthday. He didn’t tell him but he loves the thing, it has glitter, it’s one of Yuri’s favorite possessions.
As usual, the studio is quiet when he arrives, no one’s there yet. Lilia is probably in her office and even if she hears Yuri enter, she doesn’t bother him until it’s time for class. After he kept arriving way too early every single day, she stopped acting like a kindergarten teacher waiting for the forgotten kid to be picked up and she left him to his own devices. It simply became an unspoken agreement.
Yuri loves this place. He might even prefer it to his actual bedroom in his dedushka’s house. The fan that makes the only faint sound in the waiting room has been there since Yuri first stepped in this place, there’s an A.C. now but it’s autumn and it’s not needed. He secretly thinks Lilia doesn’t want to take it down out of nostalgia. She’s a stoic woman, but not a heartless one. There’s a gray couch for parents to wait for the younger students when they come to pick them up, Lilia never lets them stay, it’s one of her rules.
The studio has polished wooden floors and the walls are covered by mirrors where they aren’t by barres, there’s a black piano in a corner that is not touched often unless Lilia feels like it, she usually uses speakers and her phone because, well, technology. There are three large square windows along one wall just above the barres, it’s Yuri’s favorite spot. The sunlight makes the dust particles look otherworldly when the golden hour kicks in and it’s so quiet.
He usually arrives a couple of hours earlier than the rest of the class so he can get a few hours of silence. If it were up to him, he wouldn’t share this place with anybody. He usually just stretches or goes over routines Lilia has put together for them, sometimes he just lies on the floor and scrolls through Instagram or Facebook. Yuri is aware that this is time he could spend doing something else, like doing homework or helping Grandpa with whatever he may need, he could even find another hobby but he cherishes his hours alone in this place.
There’s a small dressing room next to the studio. On one of the corners of the room, there’s a water dispenser that has familiarized itself with students’ forgotten cups, some even leave their shoes in here, since Lilia has such a small student body. She only takes in those who are willing to give body and soul to become a good dancer and she’s expensive. Yuri will not deny it, she’s harsh as fuck but she shows she cares. The first time Yuri returned home alone after class, she stood in the street, watching Yuri’s figure disappear as he walked farther away. She’s also the reason why Viktor started driving Yuri home, a few weeks after he got his first car, she simply said ‘You could drive Yuri home’, the comment sounding more like an order, and he did. The favor later extended to Viktor picking him up before school.
He changes lazily while sipping his water bottle, he’s wearing all black today.
Yuri starts warming up. He rotates his head, his ankles, and his wrists; when he sits on the floor he flexes his feet, then his toes and points at the ends. He has amazing flexibility and is keen on maintaining it for as long as humanly possible. Side and front splits come as easy as breathing, he even keeps the position while using his phone sometimes. The only sounds in the room are his breaths. He practices one of the newer routines, does a few barre exercises until he gets bored and goes back to stretching on the floor.
Viktor finds him in a front split, his torso so frontwards his nose is touching his and his greeting takes him out of his reverie.
Well, there goes his fucking peace.
“Hello, Yurio!” he says cheerily.
“Yurio?” He wanted it to sound harsh but it was impossible when his body is at what should be an impossible angle.
“Yeah, I figured it would be necessary since we're having two Yuris from now on!”
“Huh? What the fuck are you talking about?”
Viktor turns from where he's stretching on the barre, his face confused. "Yuuri Katsuki? I told you about him this morning?” he asks, trying to make a bell ring.
Yuri can't remember shit and now there are two Yuris. Great. “No, you fucking didn’t.”
“Do you have to curse every time you speak?” he sighs, his nose wrinkled in distaste. “And yes, I did tell you, but you never pay attention to me.”
“Why would I pay attention to you?” Peacock.
Viktor just smiles at him. It’s infuriating.
The new impostor arrives a few minutes later after Alma and Sabina. Yuri keeps to himself after Viktor quickly introduces him and proceeds, immediately, to pest the poor thing. He hates having a second Yuuri at the studio but not feeling sorry for anyone being pestered by Viktor Nikiforov is downright inhumane. It stops a moment later though when Lilia enters the room and simply calls Viktor’s name. Lilia Baranosvkaya might be the only person to put an end to his incessant chatter so effectively, Yuri’s envious.
She goes in front of the class and turns to the two girls. "I take it you've met our new student." Then to Yuri. "Yuri, meet Yuuri." Everyone is quiet for a beat and then, "Katsuki,” she adds as an afterthought.
“Lilia! I've come up with a nickname to make things easier for us. We can call Yuri Yurio,” Viktor says pointing at Yuri for good measure.
“I was here first, why don't you call him Yurio?” he fires back. It’s moments like these when he wishes he could curse in front of Lilia.
“Because he was born first, silly,” Viktor answers as if it is the most obvious thing in the world.
Not even half an hour has passed and Lilia’s already pinching the bridge of her nose.
"We'll figure that out later. Since you’re all warmed up, let’s begin, shall we?”
From the looks of it, only Viktor and Yuri had warmed up but nobody dares to mention it. But Lilia always knows.
“You did warm up, didn’t you?” Her question is met with silence. She sighs. “Five minutes.”
The rest of the group’s warm up is quiet and precise. Lilia will come back in exactly five minutes and it’s better to get the job done.
It’s when practice truly starts that everyone gets serious. There’s no Alma and Sabina’s gossiping, Viktor’s useless talk or Yuri’s snappy answers, everyone is too busy concentrating on making sure their positions are flawless, from head to toe.
Yuri can see Katsuki’s reflection in the mirror. He’s a good dancer, Yuri can tell, Lilia wouldn’t have put him in this class if he wasn’t, but he gets incredibly nervous under her scrutiny.
“Relax your shoulders, Yuuri,” she says.
Yuri looks at his reflection, not him then.
“Katsuki,” Lilia adds a second later. She sighs.
“Told you we should use my system,” Viktor sing-songs.
Lilia just glares at him but it doesn’t have any effect on Viktor since apparently, he’s the most oblivious man on Earth.
An hour and a half later they’re all in the dressing room, the girls, Viktor and Yuuri are chatting animatedly about college, a new bar that just opened and things Yuri can’t relate to, he’s sixteen for crying out loud, the strongest drink he’s ever had in his life has probably been coffee.
After a sorry attempt of Yuuri trying to strike conversation with him and two bottles of water, he’s ready to leave but Viktor just won’t stop talking. Yuri doesn’t forget he’s the one getting the favor every single day but it still doesn’t stop him from getting mad at Viktor for trying to flirt with a clueless Katsuki.
“You ready, Yuri?” Viktor asks after finally deeming his efforts to lure the dark haired man useless. Both Yuris look at him. “Yurio. Sorry, habit,” he says with a shrug and a smile.
“That’s not my name,” Yuri mutters angrily. Viktor doesn’t hear him, he’s too busy staring at Katsuki like he hung the moon himself.
He half-heartedly waves the girls goodbye when he leaves and exchanges nods with Lilia when he passes her by down the corridor while she’s walking to her office. Viktor catches up a minute later. When the doors of his car are unlocked with a beep, Viktor gives him a beaming smile and that’s how Yuri knows the ride home is going to be a nightmare.
Viktor wastes no time in proving him right, he talks and talks and talks, so Yuri grabs an earbud and puts it on his right ear so Viktor can’t see him desperately trying to ignore him. Yuri wouldn’t usually bother to be polite to Viktor, he’s known him long enough but tonight he knows Viktor is going to be insistent on being heard.
However, he doesn’t catch much, except Viktor mourning the fact that Katsuki can drive and therefore doesn’t need a ride from him.
“Not that kind of ride, though,” he says mostly to himself, smirking.
“Agh! Gross, old man!”
Yuri knows his home is not on the way to Viktor’s but they have been pretending it is for years now. It seems like the only way Yuri can accept the favor, he's proud like that. What started as a favor became a routine, Yuri will never admit it but he’s going to miss this, even though he tells himself it’s just about the free rides than Viktor himself. Less than ten months from now, after his gap year finishes and if he finds ‘himself and his inspiration’ back, Viktor will leave to a very promising, very expensive college and try to make a career as a dancer. He’s really good, probably the best Lilia’s had so far and yes, that does sting Yuri’s ego but he’s 16 in Lilia Baranosvkaya’s class, he’s just as good and even has more time to learn more, to be better.
The car stops in front of Yuri’s house. It’s the shabby, one-story house his grandpa decided to move them after his babushka passed away. Yuri had been ten or nine years old but he doesn’t remember much of that time, in his mind the memories look gray. He doesn’t like to revisit them, Yuri doesn’t think he’s ever seen his dedushka look so sorrowful. It was even more despondent than the looks he gave Yuri the days after his mother decided she couldn’t take care of him, or didn’t want to.
She was young–even younger when she got pregnant, he guesses it was no surprise. To Yuri, her face is a blur but he knows he looks just like her because his grandparents and his father look nothing like him. In the end, no one–not even his own parents could force his father to take a wife or even take care of his own child. It was as dramatic as a soap opera, Yuri wishes he didn’t see it that often on television, it made him feel like a cliché. He had been around five when it happened, he thought he was just visiting his grandparents, not staying with them forever. Yuri doesn’t even remember if she said goodbye.
“Well, this is you, Yurio. Goodnight.” Viktor smiles so easily.
Yuri rolls his eyes so hard he might see the insides of his skull. “Are you seriously going to call me that now, asshole? Katsuki’s not even here!”
Viktor’s immune to Yuri’s angry shouts and overall dick-ish behavior by now. He fucking hates it, Viktor looks at him like he’s a puppy, he even had the audacity to pat him on the head once.
The older man just laughs, “See you tomorrow morning?”
“Whatever,” Yuri says as he gets out of the car. Of course they’ll see each other in the morning.
When he enters the house, his grandpa is in the kitchen making dinner.
“Ah, Yurotchka, there you are,” he greets Yuri while leaning in the stove, mixing something with a wooden spoon. “How was your day?”
He answers the same thing he always has. “Fine.” He takes a seat in one of the stools. “Yours?”
Nikolai Plisetsky is a retired man and has been for years now. The only thing he does is taking care of his grandson, his days are not particularly exciting but Yuri always asks nonetheless. Sometimes he goes out and it has led to some funny anecdotes that had Yuri laughing until his stomach ached. He once returned from the park with a stray dog and occupied his time trying to find its owners. Another time, he came back with a damn bird, he had fed it some scraps and it followed him home. The bird lived in the entrance for a week and oh, do those things shit. Yuri had to clean it all because Grandpa has a bad back.
“As usual. Did you wake up early enough to eat some breakfast?”
Yuri didn’t and he tells him so, but after receiving one of his grandpa’s looks he amends it and says he bought food at school. He lies a little too much for his own liking but he doesn't want to worry anybody, especially his dedushka. Yuri thinks he’s already a big enough burden to his grandpa, and adding extra worries to his plate is unnecessary. He’s thankful, really, that his grandparents took care of him when his parents didn’t.
They eat dinner quietly and there are a lot of vegetables in Yuri’s plate. When he started high school, Grandpa decided Yuri needed to eat more greens, he’s really short, his growth spurt doesn’t seem to be close at all. Grandpa worries, sometimes Yuri wishes he didn’t.
When he finishes, he excuses himself to take a shower, claiming he’s sweaty and reeks of high school cafeteria and ballet studio.
Yuri’s room is messy. There is a small closet that he organizes every season because his grandpa makes him, there are clothes on the floor that he didn’t bother to put in the laundry basket, his desk is littered with everything but what should be on a desk so he does his homework in bed. There are empty glasses and mugs on his nightstand. Yuri finds comfort in his bedroom, it’s cozy, at least for him, grandpa says it would be too for one of those possum things but each to their fucking own, right?
He takes a long shower. Yuri knows he shouldn’t because he still has homework to do and honestly, he’s quite tired. He slept, what, 4 hours? Chances are he’s going to attempt to finish his homework but since he does it in bed, he’s going to fall asleep, it’s happened before.
In the end, Yuri doesn’t finish his homework. He keeps nodding his head off until he decides he’s not going to finish it if his eyes can’t even focus to read properly. He’ll have to finish it on lunch or something. God, he hates school.
▫︎ ▫︎ ▫︎ ▫︎
“It’s just too fucking heteronormative. Do gay people not exist?” she half-shouts to nobody in particular and then to Sara. “Do gay people not exist, Sara?”
“They do,” Sara nods earnestly.
It’s Wednesday and Yuri doesn’t have practice today after school. Mila is easier to be around with when Sara’s around, she distracts her, so he’s seating in the grass with them in the school’s front yard taking the autumn sun to warm them up now that the temperatures are dropping. Yuri forgot to put on sunscreen today and he knows he’s probably going to regret it if he spends 20 more minutes lying in the grass taking the sun but fuck it, he’s enjoying himself.
“All I’m saying is that you can’t pretend that we don’t exist to ‘protect’ students. Are we serial killers?” Mila’s face is almost as red as her hair now.
She does this every time she gets out of Health, that is, vent about what an incompetent teacher Turner is. She’s been postponing taking the class but finally her time came, it was inevitable, she couldn’t dream of graduating high school without passing the class first.
And it was alright at the beginning of the school year but then class started to cover sexual education and the whole thing went from bad to worse. Mr. Turner is an old man that talks about sex like he’s confessing a crime, his face is always several shades darker whenever he has to say the words ‘penis’ or ‘vagina’.
Yuri knows because he takes that exact same class with that exact same teacher, just on a different period. If hell were a high school class, it’d be Health. Yuri doesn’t know what wrong could he have possibly done to deserve wasting so many hours on such a stupid class. He almost wishes he had a teacher like that coach from Mean Girls, minus the whole sleeping with students thing. What was his name? At least it would be funnier. Yuri’s doodling abilities have been getting better thanks to that class, he can’t draw for shit but earphones are not an option and he has to block all the shit that comes from Turner’s mouth somehow.
It’s true though, that the school program only teaches safe sex practices for straight people but nobody has complained. Yuri knows that, from his class, there are at least three gay or bi kids. Well, four if you count him. In Mila’s there are six. Emery High is not shitty about LGBT folks but that doesn’t mean they’re inclusive. Yet not even Mila dares to say anything about it. Mainly because who could she complain to when the staff turns beet red whenever mentions the word sex? The second thing is Mila is also a bit embarrassed to say something, she just doesn’t admit out loud to anyone, or even herself.
Mila Babicheva is open about her sexuality. Nobody gives her shit about it because she doesn’t take it. That isn’t something that appears magically, Mila’s sophomore year was rough, a breakup, coming out and parents divorcing are not things you can easily get through. She had been dating a guy name Luke since middle school, she was fifteen going on sixteen when they broke up and like all first break ups, it felt like the end of the world. Enter Sara Crispino, with her long black hair and mesmerizing eyes, she easily became Mila’s friend after insisting on sitting next to her in every class they shared. They became friends as easy as breathing and Yuri actually stopped seeing Mila as often as he usually did. He wasn’t that jealous about it, mainly because it was around the time he started to really get along with the guys. Yuri guesses Mila needed a friend that actually listened to her and gave her attention and sound advice, Yuri was fifteen and self-centered. Not much has changed, he’s sixteen now but he’s still self-centered.
The whole coming out thing came after Mila met Sara. Was it normal to want to kiss your best friend so badly? Probably not. With Sara’s friendship came guilt, Mila felt like a predator in disguise. It was awkward sometimes because obviously, they did things that could be categorized as stereotypical ‘girl things’, like shopping and having sleepovers in which they sometimes ended up sleeping on the same bed. Yuri can’t imagine what it must felt like, partially because ‘guys don’t do those things’ but also because Yuri hasn’t been attracted to a guy since middle school and that faded away rather fast. But trying not to ogle your best friend’s ass in changing rooms? That must be very fucking hard.
Also, when Sara turned sixteen, she was determined to give her twin brother the middle finger and start dating, which meant Mila often had to hear the girl she was in love with talk about other boys. Mila simply snapped one day, while they were sitting in the booth of a dinner, each sipping strawberry milkshakes. Sara took it well and she assured Mila that she was not a creep, even though they had slept in their underwear in the same bed because their relationship ‘was not like that’. That probably hurt too, but at least some of the tension was out now.
Now, the divorce, that was obviously the most difficult. Mila’s grades plummeted, she dropped out of the volleyball team to which she had a chance to be captain of, and cut her hair over her shoulders. Yuri used to sit with her in silence in her room, they didn’t do much else. Mila sometimes talked and Yuri, unlike other times, listened. He couldn’t offer advice, he thought it wasn’t his place, he didn’t even meet his dad in person, only through pictures that left Yuri with the image of his father as a seventeen-year-old, not what you’d call ideal. She sometimes cried on his shoulder and he sometimes braided her hair to calm her, they even hugged for the first time since they met. It was awkward as hell but nothing around that time was about him. She ended up staying with her mom and now is on good terms with her father. Their marriage didn’t work out in the end but they would rather not have Mila around to see them fight like wild cats when they could be perfectly civil to each other apart and still be her parents.
The only issue that remained from her sad as hell sophomore year was her crush on her best friend.
“I honestly can’t believe I’ll have to see him trying to teach the class how to put a condom on,” Mila complained.
Yuri never gave that a thought. Guess he’ll just have to be scarred for life.
Mila rests her head on Sara’s shoulder, which makes Yuri snatch for his phone to scroll through Instagram and every social media app there is on his phone. He participates in the conversation but he suddenly can’t look at them. Yuri is not super fond of PDA, you kind of can tell by looking at him. Mila and Sara don’t make Yuri feel like he’s third-wheeling, they’re not officially dating but they might as well be. They’re not super touchy since Mila is still learning to be around her friend while guarding her crush but sometimes Sara will do things like tuck a strand of Mila’s hair behind her ear and Yuri would have to look away.
Yuri tries not to think about it much, coming out, that is. If he were honest with himself–which he isn’t, he doesn’t want to make anyone uncomfortable. His mind is rather imaginative, he pictures how it will go down when grandpa finds out or when his friends find out. He knows he’s loved but it’s so easy to forget because he feels like he’s fighting the world alone, and he’s sure this is just his teenage angst phase, the one he thought he was above of, but here he fucking is.
Mila once said she felt like a predator in disguise around Sara, that it felt like cheating because even though, yes, she is her best friend, Mila still finds her attractive. Yuri doesn’t ever want to be in that place. What will his friends think? Leo might never want to change after P.E. when Yuri’s around and listen, he is painfully gay but dude doesn’t bust a nut thinking about the boys in his classes, Smith’s ugly ass face and his drain duff-y hair do nothing for him, he has standards.
Their conversation slowly drifts to politics, to weekend plans, and to high school gossip. Yuri can’t be bothered with those topics: politics make him yell, he doesn’t have any weekend plans and he doesn’t even know the names of half the people in his class, so he plugs in his earphones and tunes out.
His eyes are closed and his head is softly bobbing to the sound of the music he’s listening to. He starts dozing off and after the fifth or sixth song, Mila nudges him.
Yuri opens his eyes and stares at the sky. “Not even a fucking minute of peace, baba,” he bellows while taking his earphones off.
“Hey, I’m trying to stop you from burning to a crisp. You should get out of the sun,” Mila huffs.
“Yeah, yeah, shut up,” Yuri mutters as he sits up and he finds himself staring at the two newcomers.
“Karma is a bitch, Plisetsky, and I was just being nice. Remember me when your skin is so red you look like a shrimp.”
Yuri doesn’t register anything but the last part, he’s too busy looking at Michele–Sara’s brother, and the guy that’s sitting next to him, when did they get here? A part of him is ashamed that someone he doesn’t know has seen him dozing off, it makes him feel strangely vulnerable. What if he made a weird face or something?
“Whatever,” he tells her and he shields himself from any coming conversations by looking at his phone.
“Michele was telling us how he met Otabek, Yuri,” Sara comments, like he asked.
He looks up from his phone. “Oh, cool,” he responds indifferently, sounding like the asshole he knows he is.
Mila nudges his shoulder again and raises her brows. Be nice, the gesture says.
“Otabek?” he asks Michele pretending to be interested as he lowers down his phone, if only for Mila’s sake and because he knows he’s going to get a book-length text message later this afternoon if he doesn’t stop acting like a douchebag.
“Yes! Otabek,” Sara says to the guy he has refused to look at since Mila last spoke to him. “This is Yuri. Yuri, this is Otabek, he just moved here.”
Yuri bites the inside of his cheek and his response ends up being a quiet ‘sup’ directed at his forehead. He meant for it to be louder but fuck it, he doesn’t care. The new g–Otabek, Yuri corrects himself, just nods at him in acknowledgment. He guesses that settles the awkward introduction then.
Everyone is listening to something Sara is saying while Michele is busy between listening to his sister and determining whether Otabek shows any hint of intentions toward her. If he only knew he should be watching out for the girl that goes to his house for sleepovers every other weekend. The world is a funny place.
Yuri takes advantage of their distraction to study Otabek. He’s sitting cross-legged on the grass, his elbows are resting on his knees while his torso is leaning slightly forwards, his body language showing that, unlike Yuri, he’s listening to whatever Sara is saying. His skin is tan even though they’re in the middle of autumn, his eyes are brown and he has rather full lips. Yuri isn’t checking him out, he’s assessing, there’s a difference. He has an undercut and Yuri wonders how someone can look so good with a haircut worthy of a fuckboy. In Otabek’s defense, he doesn’t look the part, sure, the black hoodie with the Adidas logo, jeans and sneakers may dumbfound some people but his demeanor tells otherwise, his face is impassive and he doesn’t have the permanent smirk every high school guy who thinks he’s too good for anyone else seems to have, but you never know.
The buzz of his phone takes him out of his contemplation. He’s hot, isn’t he?
Yuri looks up from his phone and directs a frown at Mila like he doesn’t know who she’s talking about. He types back. Who? Michele?
A moment later she replies. Don’t play dumb, I’m obviously talking about Otabek.
Thought you were too busy pining after Sara to notice anyone else.
You know that’s not what I mean.
Yuri doesn’t reply. Instead, he opens an app game and pretends to be invested in it. He’s not totally comfortable now that Michele and Otabek have joined them but he doesn’t want to go home either, so he settles for trying to make his presence in the conversation go as unnoticed as he’s able.
Thinking about it, he never really got out of the sun, his cheeks are a bit too warm now, so he gets closer to Mila because that’s where the shade is but it draws the attention of everyone.
“What,” he barks at them.
“Your face face is really red,” Michele comments.
“You should’ve gotten out of the sun when I told you,” Mila says, smug.
“It’s autumn, it’s probably not that bad.” He blushes, Otabek is looking at him now but his face is already red from the sun so he guesses he has his alibi. Mila is staring at his nose and she can’t keep the tiny smile that tugs at her lips. “It’s not that bad, is it?”
Mila, ever helpful, simply laughs.
“Fuck you, baba.” He opens his front camera to check the damage. His nose, cheeks, and forehead suffered the most, the burn is bad but Yuri’s had worse, however that won’t free him from having to rub lotion on his face later this afternoon. “Shit,” he murmurs. It’s going to hurt like a bitch. Yuri eyes Sara’s tan skin, envious that she probably doesn’t burn after 15 minutes of sun exposure. Ugh. “I better get going,” he announces and grabs his stuff. “See you,” he says to Mila and the twins as he stands up and walks away. “It was nice meeting you,” he remembers to say to Otabek a moment too late and then turns to get home.
Yuri is already a considerate amount of feet away when he hears Mila yell, “Hey! Wanna hang out on Friday after school? With us?”
He turns and walks backward. “Where?” He knows he can’t go because he has practice after school on Friday but he still asks.
“Bowling!”
“Hell no! I’m never going bowling with you ever again!” he shouts.
“Yuri, it was one time!” she whines.
“No!” he answers and gives the group one last look before he turns around, his eyes resting on Otabek a moment longer than he intends. He feels more than sees Mila giving him the middle finger just like when they were younger, having just learned the gesture and having no idea what the hell it meant but using it anyway.