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Yuuri stood with his hands on his hips. Pale blue-green wings fluttered behind him. Sharp eyes narrowed, staring at his friends with a hawk-like focus. Neither of them looked at all repentant. In fact, they looked downright giddy. Phichit practically vibrated in place. His translucent red, gold-veined wings buzzed. That was never a good sign. Especially not when it was coupled with the mischief alight in the bright green eyes of their other friend.
“Absolutely not,” Yuuri said, tone clipped.
“But Yuuri,” Phichit whined.
“No,” Yuuri hissed. His eyes narrowed.
“Yuuri~” Chris leaned into Yuuri’s personal space. “Come on.”
“I can see what you’re thinking,” Yuuri said, gently pushing Chris off of him. “And I don’t like it. It’s an absolutely terrible idea. You’re already in enough trouble as it is.”
“You mean we’re already in enough trouble,” Chris corrected, snaking his arm around Yuuri’s waist and pulling him back in.
“Only because I’m guilty by association with you awful, awful people.” Yuuri huffed. He crossed his arms over his chest and refused to look at either of his friends. “I hate both of you. Do you know I’ve been asked several times to have you two exiled?”
“Of course we do,” Chris waved his free hand nonchalantly. “But they have no grounds to force us out. We’ve never broken one of the Laws.”
“You love us,” Phichit cooed. “And this is a great idea. You’ll thank us later.”
“We are not going to get this human lost in the woods for eternity,” Yuuri said.
“But he’s gorgeous, Yuuri.”
Chris rested his chin on Yuuri’s head. Phichit crowded into their space, looping himself under on of Chris’s arms. The three of them huddled together made for a ridiculous image. Six eyes followed the lithe form of a man walking along the river. He had his hair half tied up, but it still brushed past his shoulders. They watched, curious, mesmerized, and amused. Yuuri found himself nodding to Chris’s last statement. The man was beautiful. But—Yuuri should his head, sighing, but he didn’t disentangle himself from his friends just yet—he was cold, what more do you want from him?
“I can’t—we can’t keep him here, Chris,” Yuuri said.
“And if he steps into a ring?” Phichit asked. “What will you do then?”
“I’ll—”
“You’ll ask him for his name,” Phichit interrupted Yuuri, giving him what should have been a stern look, if he hadn’t been so amused with his friend’s reticence.
“I’ll let him go,” Yuuri finished, frowning at Phichit. “A man like that—someone would come looking for him. I can’t risk the safety of our people just because I think he’s pretty.”
“So you do like him!”
Yuuri wondered when Phichit and Chris had the time to perfect speaking in unison like that. It was unsettling. Yuuri frowned at them.
“Like him? I don’t even know him.”
“Then you get to know him,” Chris said, plainly and matter-of-fact.
“But—”
But Chris and Phichit had already made up their minds. They untangled from Yuuri and left him standing at the river’s edge where frost dusted the grass and reached into the edges of the water. Yuuri watched them leave, flabbergasted and with only the water and ice for company. The dazzling human didn’t count—he didn’t know Yuuri was even there, so how could he keep him company?
Viktor nearly leapt out of his skin. A spark of light followed by a glittering pop! appeared in front of him. When the light and glitter settled, two figures stood ahead of him by two, three paces. They both had wings that flittered behind them. One was tall, blond, with a dark undercut and stubble that was more than a few days over a five o’ clock shadow. Purple, blue-veined wings folded against his back. The man next to him was shorter, but no less sparkly. Decked out in red and gold, he looked frighteningly young but ageless at the same time. As if this forest wasn’t already unsettling enough. Viktor too a step back from either of them.
“Oh, don’t run away!” The one in red and gold cooed. He grinned, holding up his hands in a non-threatening manner. “We’re not going to hurt you. We just want to talk to you, that’s all! It’s been a long time since a human has come come so far into our woods.”
“Besides, hurting you would be counterproductive,” said the one in purple. “Do you like to dance?”
“Who—who are you?” Viktor stammered, eyes wide and expression slack. He’d thought this forest was empty. He’d never even heard birds or crickets singing from the trees. Always eerily quiet.
“Well, we’re faeries, of course!” The one in red sang.
“Faeries,” Viktor deadpanned. “Right.”
“Aw. He doesn’t believe us,” the purple one said, wearing an exaggerated pout. He turned toward the river, staring out to the other side and waving. “Hey! Princeling! He doesn’t believe we’re faeries.”
There was no one over there, however. Viktor tilted his head. What was the purple faerie staring at and talking to?
“Okay…” Viktor chewed on the inside of his cheek. “Faeries. I don’t suppose you have names then?”
“Oh, sweetheart,” the purple one said, laughing. “You’d have to give us yours, first.”
“Why?” Viktor narrowed his eyes. “How can I trust you?”
“Oh, for the love of Morgaine.” The red one rolled his eyes. “Call me Arthur. And my questionable friend here goes by Gaylord.”
Viktor snorted, almost derisively.
“Hey, it’s a real name, I’ll have you know.” ‘Gaylord’ sniffed. “Don’t be rude. And I’m not questionable!”
“…Viktor, then.”
“Viktor.” ‘Gaylord’ purred.
A cold shiver ran down Viktor’s spine. It set his teeth on edge, and for a moment he regretted his decision to share his name—but they had give him theirs, hadn’t they? Somewhere on the other side of the river, he heard what seemed like an exasperated sigh and the sound of a hand smacking on a forehead.
“You never did tell us if you liked to dance, Viktor,” ‘Arthur’ said, grinning. “So, do you?”
“I— Suppose…” Viktor shifted his weight from one foot to the other. He wanted to back away, but he couldn’t. Something held him there. “Why?”
“We’re having a party,” ‘Arthur’ hummed. “We’d like to invite you. We have a friend who is dying to meet you.”
“He thinks you’re pretty,” ‘Gaylord’ said with a laugh. “But he’s too shy to ask you himself.”
“And since we’re such wonderful friends, we decided to help him out.” ‘Arthur’ bounced on the balls of his feet. “It’ll be fun. There’ll be dancing and some of us even sing. And the food and drink is to die for.”
At this point, ‘Gaylord’ and ‘Arthur’ both waggled their brows at Viktor. But Viktor’s attention was still on the knowledge that this unknown friend of theirs thought he was pretty. That had certainly gotten Viktor’s attention. The knowledge held it in an iron cage, turning into a vice grip if he tried to turn his attention elsewhere.
“What do you say, Viktor?” ‘Gaylord’ asked, his grin turning sharp.
Viktor should have been unsettled, but the invitation to drink and dance - and with such fantastical creatures as faeries - was too strong a temptation. And their friend—the shy one that thought he was pretty—was sure to be there. How could he say no to that? Curiosity gnawed at him. He wanted to meet this shy faerie who needed his friends to intervene for him. Slowly, he nodded. This time, it was ‘Arthur’s’ expression twisted into something playfully wicked. He held out his hand, several gold bangles sliding down his wrist and clinking together in a delightful chime.
“Shall we shake on it?” ‘Arthur’ asked.
“…One dance.” Viktor took ‘Arthur’s’ hand. Electricity jolted through his skin, up his arm, the very moment their palms connected.
“It’s a deal, then, Viktor,” ‘Arthur’ grinned wider, if that were even possible. “Stay here, won’t you? We’ll go tell everyone we’re expecting another guest.”
‘Gaylord’ and ‘Arthur’ proceeded to leave him alone by the edge of the riverbank. He couldn’t help but feel like he’d made a terrible, terrible mistake. Though it had been phrased as a question, the ‘stay here’ had been undoubtedly a command. Viktor felt himself unable to leave the riverside clearing. Even stranger, Viktor felt himself not wanting to leave. He sighed and dusted his pants off before sitting on a wide, flat rock and staring into the flowing water. The gentle rush kept the frost from traveling further than the edges.
“You’re quite foolish.”
The new voice startled him. He slipped off his rock and felt himself careening toward the moving water. But the splash and the cold never came. Someone had caught his wrist. When he looked at who had saved him, his breath caught in his throat. The man was stunning. No—not a man. This was another faerie. The pale blue of his wings shimmered in the waning light of the day. Shadows cast from trees rustled along his skin but his eyes—oh, his eyes—burned him. Burnished russet pinned him in place. The man—faerie held his gaze. Viktor allowed himself to drown in the look the other was giving him.
“You’re beautiful.” The words left Viktor’s lips in a woosh of a breath before he could rein himself in—before he even knew what he was saying.
“Have you seen yourself?” The other asked. A short giggle tumbled from full lips that formed a soft, teasing smile.
“Who are you?” Viktor whispered.
“Viktor,” the faerie chided gently. A chill ran down Viktor’s spine, pleasant and wanting, as the sound of his name from those lips washed over him. He wanted to speak, but the faerie continued. “You know you shouldn’t ask for names like that. And you gave them your real one, too. You’re quite foolish.”
“You said that…” Viktor frowned. “I know. I realize that now.”
“There’s nothing to be done for it now.”
The faerie shrugged. He smiled again. The remaining light that filtered through the dense canopy of the trees caught on the silver wrapping around his ears, his arms, down to his wrists and curling ornately around his fingers. A glimmer of gold brought Viktor’s attention to the enticing length of his neck. They were in his hair, too, the faint shine of gold and silver beads. This man, this faerie, was more ornately decorated than either of the other two. Despite the ornamentation, the jewelry and sumptuous fabric were understated—regal, even. Viktor swallowed the growing lump in his throat. This faerie was dangerous, Viktor could tell. This man could end him with a well timed smile and a gentle chiding. But Viktor couldn’t bring himself to care. It would be the most wonderful destruction.
“I would rather not use your name to influence you,” the faerie said. “But you must understand this—don’t, under any circumstances, eat or drink anything offered to you. No matter how hungry or thirsty you feel.
“Why?”
“Because you’ll be trapped.” The faerie shrugged. “You’ve already bound yourself to one dance, but if you eat or drink, even I couldn’t cut you loose and send you out of the forest.”
“…And if I wanted to stay?”
“Why would you—”
“I haven’t decided yet.” Viktor tapped his cheek thoughtfully. “But there’s nothing waiting for me back there.”
Viktor jerked his thumb in the direction of the forest entrance. The faerie followed the movement and he sighed. He ran his fingers through ink-black hair, making the beads jingle like bells. The jingle increased with a shake of the faerie’s head. He looked at Viktor like he couldn’t decide whether he was exasperated or amused.
“Viktor…”
There was that shiver again—Viktor could get used to that. He grinned at the faerie, rejuvenated. Such a funny thing, how the sound of his name from this beautiful creature could affect him in such a way. It simultaneously refreshed him and made him ache.
“I’d like to dance with you,” Viktor said.
“Pardon?” The faerie arched his eyebrows.
“The one dance I obligated myself to,” Viktor clarified, offering the faerie both of his hands. “I’d like to share it with you.”
The faerie laughed, bright and unrestrained and utterly delighted, if perhaps a little surprised. He shook his head slightly, making the beads jingle again. For a moment, Viktor faltered. The faerie didn’t want— Warmth engulfed Viktor’s hands. He looked down and saw that the faerie had taken them in his own, even tangling their fingers together. The stunning creature before him nodded.
“I’d gladly share it with you.”
The dance was in full swing. Chris and Phichit looked entirely too proud of themselves, standing off to the side of the clearing. All the other faeries in attendance followed their example, giving Yuuri and Viktor the whole ring to dance in. Sure, they loved to dance as much as the other faeries, but Yuuri and his human were a breathtaking sight. Yuuri laughed at something Viktor said before spinning him out—almost letting him go—before pulling back into his body, arms wrapping around him.
“I’ve never had so much fun before,” Viktor breathed, chest heaving. He continued to let Yuuri lead him despite the exhaustion. It burned delightfully in his legs and lungs. “You’re amazing.”
“Only as good as my partner,” Yuuri said, laughing again. “We’re a team right now, after all.”
Yuuri spun Viktor again, dipping him at the end this time. They ignore the collective gasps of their audience and continued their dance. One style blended into another, on and on. One dance turned into two, two into three, three into four. It lasted long into the night, but the bright faerie lights cast a warm, glittering glow across the clearing and chased away the shadows. They finally ended their dance, standing in the center of the ring. They panted together, foreheads touching and breath mixing. Russet met azure and their world narrowed into just them. They heard nothing else but each other’s heartbeat and the intermingling of their breaths.
It was long past midnight when the two of them stepped out of the circle, thanking the audience for their applause. They cleared the space so that others could dance. Viktor found himself mesmerized by the colors, the glittering jewelry, the familial vivacity. Yuuri simply smiled at him before Phichit and Chris approached them.
“You two looked like you had a lot of fun tonight,” Phichit said, grinning. “So, are we keeping him?”
“He’s not ours to keep,” Yuuri said with a sigh. He didn’t want to have this conversation again. Of course he didn’t want Viktor to leave—no one had danced like that with him. He’d never connected like that with anyone before. But Viktor wasn’t his. He was his own person, and human. Yuuri would let him leave, though they were both exhausted to the core—pleasantly so. Perhaps he might wait until dawn, if only to rest.
“Did you ask him what he wanted?” Chris asked, throwing his arm over Phichit’s shoulders. He smiled when Phichit leaned into his side, head resting on his shoulder. When Yuuri didn’t answer, he rolled his eyes. “Of course you haven’t.”
“Look, we love you, but you need to talk,” Phichit said, exasperation edging his voice. “If you want something, ask for it.”
Yuuri sighed and turned his attention away from them. Phichit took that as their cue to step back, so he took Chris’s hand and tugged him into the crowd of dancing faeries.
“You’ve fulfilled your obligation,” he said, focusing on Viktor, who looked at him with such adoration in his eyes that Yuuri found himself overwhelmed. He opened his mouth, but closed it immediately. He tried again. No sound came out—so he tried again. Eventually, “…are you ready to go home, Viktor?”
“I already am,” Viktor replied without hesitation.
Yuuri wheezed as his eyes widened. He tightened his fingers in Viktor’s, knuckles turning white with the effort. Viktor had stolen the breath from his lungs. He wasn’t sure he even wanted to breathe again. Not if it meant this night had to end. But Viktor seemed to understand him without a word. He lifted a hand and cupped Yuuri’s cheek, rubbing his thumb along a high cheekbone. Time passed in an eternity between them as their eyes searched each other. Then, Viktor leaned down, unhesitant but giving Yuuri all the time he needed to pull away if he wanted. Yuuri swallowed, but he met Viktor in the middle. Their lips barely touched before Yuuri was sliding one arm around Viktor’s neck. Viktor’s own snaked around Yuuri’s trim waist. They were met with cat calls and wolf whistles all around them. The kiss lingered and the din around them faded as they lost themselves in each other. Eventually, they had to come up for air.
Viktor gave Yuuri a dopey smile, brushing their noses together as Yuuri looked up at him in a dazed wonder.
“Are you sure?” Yuuri asked. It occurred to him that he still hadn’t given Viktor his name. Phichit and Chris haven’t corrected their names with him, either. “There’s no going back…”
“There’s nothing waiting for me back there,” Viktor said. He brushed their noses again. “Besides, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be. Even if I don’t have your name.”
Yuuri sighed and smiled with a subtle roll of his eyes. He stood up on his toes an whispered in Viktor’s ear—his lips brushed tantalizingly soft against the shell of his ear. “Yuuri.”
“Yuuri.” Viktor breathed.
Azure eyes shimmered, bright and watery. Yuuri kissed Viktor’s cheek as the sound of his name washed over him. And with Viktor saying it with such reverent adoration… It had his heart soaring. He wondered if Viktor could feel him quiver—or hear his blood singing. The power in a name… Yuuri pressed his face into Viktor’s collar, hiding his smile there.
Chris and Phichit appeared at their side, sweaty and grinning with interlocked hands. Yuuri peeked at them from under an arm (he didn’t know if it was his arm or Viktor’s and he didn’t care). He couldn’t help the smile at the sight of their hands. It was about time. A pleased hum passed his lips and he pulled away from Viktor just enough to do an actual introduction. Viktor glanced at him.
“So I take it these two aren’t actually Arthur and Gaylord.”
Viktor quirked a brow at Yuuri’s trouble making friends. Yuuri giggled so hard he wheezed and then proceeded to snort unattractively. Viktor thought it was the cutest thing ever as he reached out and wiped tears of laughter from Yuuri’s eyes. And if Yuuri leaned into the touch, well, it was nobody’s business.
“No, they’re not,” Yuuri said when the giggles finally subsided. He gestured to each of his friend’s respectively, “Chris and Phichit. They’re mostly harmless, though I told them not to bother you.”
“I’m glad they did,” Viktor said, laughing. He squeezed Yuuri against his side, kissing his temple.
“I—” Yuuri hummed quietly and closed his eyes. “Yeah. Me, too.”
“I told you you’d thank us later,” Phichit said with a delighted cackle.
“You two are so cute it’s disgusting.” Chris grinned.
“Hmm…” Yuuri leaned into Viktor with a thoughtful smile. He didn’t bother denying Chris’s words. He’d be lying anyway. Instead, he tilted his head up and looked back at Viktor, who was reaching for a silver goblet of honey wine. Yuuri stopped him, placing an hand on Viktor’s wrist. “Are you sure? You won’t be able to leave. At least, not on your own.”
“I’m sure,” Viktor said.
“In that case!” Phichit cheered before dragging Chris over to a long banquet table, having forgotten to let go of his hand. He returned in a flash with a glittering plate stacked with what appeared to be honeycombs and honeysuckle flowers. “It won’t do to drink without having something to eat.”
Yuuri watched, both fond and delighted when Viktor took a bite and exclaimed, “Vkusno!”
“Someone’s happy.” Yuuri laughed, taking the honeycomb from him and finishing it off. He licked the honey from his fingers and caught Viktor staring at him. He smiled with the quirk of an eyebrow. “Chris, can you hand us two goblets?”
“Of course, darling,” Chris said.
After he brought them what Yuuri asked for. Yuuri took both goblets and handed one to Viktor. All the while, faerie eyes fell on them, another lull in the music and dance. All watched as Yuuri interlocked his arm with Viktor’s while their eyes never left each other. Then, slowly, they drank from their goblets with their arms still linked together.
“Welcome to the court, Viktor,” Yuuri said once they’d finished their drinks.