Chapter Text
When you wish upon a star, thank the celestial starmakers.
Every day, without fail, they collected stardust deposits from the bottom of the heavenly riverbank and milled them in hearth fire to create healthy new stars for the night sky, so that the mortals could navigate in the dark and cast their own wishes. This was no easy task, and that was why there was always a master in charge of making sure the stars were strong enough to last their full lifespans.
Master Yakov had been starmaking for thousands of years. Retirement called for him, but he was not in a hurry. He still had to guide the next master in line: the young and gifted, beautiful starmaker named Viktor. Ever since he’d gone under Yakov’s apprenticeship, Viktor never cut his hair. He’d made a vow to cut it only when he inherited the Master title. That was how hardworking and dedicated Yakov’s pupil was.
When he toiled away by the riverbank, his ankle length moonlight hair was fashioned into a braid with cold star rocks weaved in. He rolled up the hems and sleeves of his purple starmaker robes when he waded in the water to catch stardust, then dried himself and his clothes by the hearth when he meted out hot gas to give birth to new stars. Viktor worked endlessly, and only took breaks when it was mealtime and bedtime. Sometimes, he skipped steps that he felt was unnecessary, which made Yakov disapprove and scold him. But Viktor was an excellent starmaker all the same; a model for the future generations, and the master couldn’t be more pleased to have him as his protege.
But sometimes, Viktor was melancholic. He never said anything, yet that did not prevent Yakov from observing that he was sad. Did it have to do with working so hard? If Viktor was not going to be upfront about how he was really feeling, then it was up to Yakov to move things along. Viktor was still young. He shouldn’t have to work from bed rise to bed-rest. Yakov was a strict master, but he was not unkind. Which was why, one day, he invited his apprentice to discuss an offer.
“Vitya,” he said, “are you satisfied?”
“Am I satisfied with my work?” Viktor tilted his head, chewing on his lower lip. “Well, of course!”
Yakov frowned in consternation. He did not even specify starmaking in his question. “I am pleased to hear that. However, I am concerned that all you do is work.”
“Master! This is unusual of you to ask. It’s my honor and duty to work alongside you. I’m proud of my skills!” He started playing with his braid, rearranging his star rocks absentmindedly. “I - I don’t think I need anything else. What more could I wish for?”
Shaking his head with a heavy sigh, Yakov said, “You are a genius, that’s a given. But you’re still just a fool like when I first brought you in. You think you could lie to me?”
Guilt struck across his pupil’s face. He drew in a sharp breath. “Sorry! I thought I was good at hiding all this time.”
“It’s okay, Vitya. Please, tell me what’s been weighing on your mind. I just want to help you.”
Viktor let go of his tense composure, dropping his shoulders and exhaled. “To be honest, I feel so lonely.”
He then explained how, whenever he worked on milling stardust and lighting up the sky with fresh stars, he envied the mortals for how easy it was for them to wish. How so many mortals wished to be loved by the one they loved the most. How they even wished to be in good company with others. What was it like to not be lonely? Viktor asked out loud.
Yakov soaked in everything as calmly as he could. Of course, he should have guessed. Viktor was still young, after all. It was not time yet for him to take over his title as Master, and he deserved to take some breaks. He was still naive, and was not able to work things out how to address his loneliness. Yakov knew the perfect person for Viktor to seek companionship in.
“Across the river there is a pig farmer. He is simple, but I think he will do to keep you company. I give you permission to meet him now and then.”
Viktor’s smile grew. “Thank you. I’m so glad. I trust you about this farmer boy. I’d like to - I want to see him tomorrow then.”
Yakov gave his consent. Anything to make Viktor happy that was reasonable, he would do.
The next day, Viktor went to the riverside. This time, he did not adjust his robe's hem to wade and collect stardust deposits. Nor was his hair in a tight braid. He wore it down, and rolled up the ends a little high up so they did not get caught in the undertow. It would not do if his hair was ruined when he had his first meeting with the pig farmer.
Yuuri. That was his name, as Yakov told him. That was a lovely name, Viktor thought. In a long time, longer than he’d want to dwell on, he felt an intense burst of excitement. He couldn’t wait to be on the other side of the river and meet this man. Yuuri!
He waded across the starshine river and used the stepping stones. There, that was rather quick. Was it always this short of a distance? In all these years of working under Yakov’s tutelage, he had never bothered to try crossing the river. The pondering made his heart hurt. But no, he shook his head. Enough of his perpetual sadness! Today was the day he got his own long-time nurtured secret wish fulfilled.
There was a trail that led to the pig farm, and it was not far away. He could make out two buildings. One must be this so-called farm where the livestock stayed, and the other was a cottage where Yuuri must live. How charming, he thought. He hoped Yuuri was just as charming.
Oh! In the near distance, he saw small, pink creatures trotting his way. So that’s what pigs really looked like. They were stout, but had remarkable agility for their portness. Why were they just running loose? Viktor gulped. Did that mean - this mysterious farmer was -
“Yahhhhh!!!”
Those pigs! Those cute, irresistible, monstrous pigs tackled him by surprise. And they were chewing at his hair!
“My beautiful hair!” he wailed. And not his star rocks too, he mourned with dry sobs.
Nearby, he heard thundering footsteps and sharp huffs.
“Bad pigs! Bad Axel, Loop, Lutz...ugh too many of you, get off this stranger right now!”
The piggies squealed in protest. Finally, finally they let go of him and his precious hair. In his upside down view, he saw a man waving his staff angrily.
“Go back now,” he barked. And now the pigs were growing smaller into pink shaped blobs, heading back to the farm.
The man - oh the pig farmer Yuuri, it had to be him- hurried to Viktor’s side. His scowl disappeared, soon replaced with concern in his tight lips and eyebrows.
“Oh my gods, I’m so so sorry for that. My pigs love long hair and star rocks and - wow your hair is gorgeous.”
Gorgeous? VIktor’s eyes went wide in shock and horror. How could his beautiful hair be “gorgeous” when they had just been mauled and chewed at by hungry pigs? Oh the humiliation!
“Did I just say that?” Yuuri squawked. “You don’t look pleased, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to. Um, let me help you up!”
Yuuri offered Viktor a hand and he accepted it, even though it pained him to do this in such precarious predicament where he felt completely hideous. Yuuri’s hand was rough, yet also somehow soft - oh, they felt nice. What nice hands he had. Yuuri pulled once, and Viktor was up on his feet.
Now that they were seeing face to face, Viktor finally got a proper view of Yuuri the pig farmer. He was shorter than him, but had a strong build. Wearing blue tunics and plain pants, with sun-kissed skin, hair short and black, and eyes the color of hearth firewood, Yuuri was unbelievably handsome .
“Oh my stars,” Viktor whispered, transfixed by the farmer boy.
“Um.”
Viktor was still holding onto Yuuri’s rough, nice hand.
Yuuri coughed. “Are you the starmaker from across the river?”
“I am!” he said.
“Oh. Well uh, I’ve always heard the starmaker - you - were pretty. And uh, you’re very beautiful.”
And just like that, Viktor’s face grew hot, as if he were working right in front of fire. “Even though my hair is?”
Yuuri could only nod his head.
“Well then,” Viktor said with a smile. He clasped his fingers around Yuuri’s. “My hero here is truly handsome.”
If Yuuri was a new star, he was now redder than the ones Viktor crafted. Gods, he was so cute.
“My name is Yuuri,” cute farmer boy said what Viktor already knew, shyly, but he didn’t mind at all. “It’s a pleasure to, um, see you, Maker of Stars.”
“Call me Viktor,” he blurted. None of this title nonsense.
Yuuri colored some more, but held onto Viktor’s fingers tighter and threw his shoulders back with more confidence. “Hi, Viktor.”
All it took was Yuuri saying his name like that, and right then and there, Viktor was a complete goner.