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Victor Nikiforov was seventeen, not quite six foot and now had a plan.

And it was a great plan, no matter what anyone said. Especially Christophe Giacometti, who despite beating Victor to that enviable six foot mark, was still only sixteen and had yet to learn the true nuance of romance as far as Victor was concerned. This wasn't like their own school back in Zurich- a text and cheap cider, before nipping around to the gym’s locker rooms for seven minutes in dodgy tiled heaven wouldn't cut it.

No. What Victor wanted to achieve would require delicacy, subtlety and above all else, patience.

(Though admittedly, the latter was rather stretched to its possible breaking point).

It all started in September, with Victor and Chris’ Japanese class receiving news that they would be part of a pen-palship and eventual exchange with a secondary school in Japan as a way of practically applying the language before the Matura next year. The excitement was intense- while the interest in actually going to Japan was a given, for an all boys-school it was the promise of possibly exchanging letters with a demure Japanese schoolgirl from the mixed school that had gotten most of his classmates scrambling for a pen so to start their letters.

(‘I don't mind who they are, but I certainly hope demure isn't how they'd describe themselves,’ Chris had a recited to Victor with perfect English in an attempt for privacy. The laugh he got for it across the room showed how futile an effort such a thing had been).

As for Victor, (to which girls of any and all descriptions had never held an interest), this mostly presented a situation in which he'd have to face the reality of his frankly abysmal kanji. One Victor felt Madam Minako Okukawa was keenly aware of and just as unsympathetic towards. The thought of his complete misunderstanding of basic radicals had Victor semi-dreaming of some cute, Japanese boy resulting to perfectly drawn emojis by way of encouragement. The thought soothed the sting of Madam Okukawa’s rather severe red pen on his homework.

(‘This is why we’re handwriting for the exchange,’ she had said after one particularly bleak test for the whole class. ‘No Google translate to help you.’)

However, just to stick the knife in so it seemed, Victor was one of the three boys in the class to get a girl pen-pal, suitably stopping his fantasy in its tracks. ( ‘Ce n’est pas juste!’ Maxime had wailed, before adding rather petulantly but accurately: ‘Tu es gay!’).

Victor had been gifted with the enviable Yuuko Nishigori: a seemingly pleasant, sixteen year old who’s picture showed her sporting a rather impressive set of pigtails. Victor’s compliments to her styling and pretty eyes were met with equal appreciation for his own long, silver hair that fell down his back and long nose.

(I showed your picture to Kacchan and he turned red! Yuuko had written, her handwriting neatly square. Victor had smiled, flattered with the idea of his picture being shown around).

Over the months, Victor’s kanji was forced to improve as Yuuko would write back in quaintly formal English, and occasionally French. Victor’s ability to speak French was seemingly the most interesting thing about him to Yuuko, (being Russian, not Swiss, was very low apparently as Yuuko kept neglecting to remember the fact no matter how many times Victor traced the kanji out), and she attempted quite often to engage in both languages, ignoring Victor’s Russian altogether. Their exchanges were usually short, a bit stilted and all in all, just another addition to Victor’s homework.

Until the day Victor mentioned he was an ice-skater.

The letter that came after was most unlike the ones Victor had received beforehand. Yuuko had delivered twice the amount she normally did, with her usually neat handwriting steadily growing messier as the letter went on and she seemed to grow more and more excited.

As it turned out, Yuuko was also a skater. More than that, her family owned an ice rink. When Victor had burst into excitement over such to Chris, he was interrupted by a (rudely) eavesdropping Madam Okukawa who said: ‘You were all matched based on your interests, Victor! Did you try at all to get to know this poor girl?’

(Madam Okukawa had been a ballet dancer before teaching apparently, and everything she did was graceful. Even spying, as it had turned out as she tapped Victor on the silver-head with her pen by elegantly tipping her wrist).

From that week on, the letters got longer and the kanji even messier. They exchanged notes on their skating, their ambitions. But Victor began to learn a lot more about Yuuko’s life in Kyushu as well. He learned about Yuuko’s favourite shops, (H&M), her boyfriend ( Takeshi, Victor highlighted), her favourite music, (Moumoon) and that she was class representative.

Victor also began to learn about Kacchan.

Kacchan was Yuuko’s best friend. They were in the same class, he was sixteen but most importantly, he was also a skater. Victor couldn't believe his luck- upon investigation over their first letters, Victor was extremely pleased to see that Kacchan was indeed the boy who had blushed at Victor’s picture.

And as it was at the time, however, Kacchan sounded just lovely.

Yuuko said that Kacchan was the most determined person she ever met. He was clever and really strong, helping Yuuko’s parents carry the heavier equipment when needed. (This particular image was one Victor liked to go back to, on more than one occasion).

And most importantly, Kacchan loved to skate. Victor learned all about Kacchan’s loops and spins, his ambition and his nerves. Kacchan gets nervous well, Yuuko had imperfectly written, but Victor’s heart was all sympathy to the boy he hadn't met yet. Victor knew how much worse one’s own criticism could be.

Kacchan liked telling stories with his skating according to Yuuko, something Victor wished desperately he could ask about more cohesively as Yuuko never replied with enough details. Victor wondered if Yuuko would bring him skating with Kacchan. He rather hoped she would.

Even better again, both Yuuko and Kacchan greatly admired the love of Victor’s life; his particularly precious poodle, Makkachin, whose photo had been sent along as well by Victor.

This rather pleasant note carried Victor through most of his Japanese classes after, prompting him to look up more personal compliments for when the time for the exchange eventually rolled around. While it may have been poor form to suss out a potential date through his pen-pal, Victor felt a little harmless fun never hurt anyone. And if Kacchan turned out to be terrible upon meeting, then no one would be the wiser to Victor’s efforts.

(Except for Chris, who was a far too willing guinea pig to Victor’s butchered use of the word beautiful, which unhelpfully seemed to have several equivalents in Japanese).

So originally, Victor didn't really have a plan beyond all that. Which was probably his first mistake.

His first of what would prove to be many.

The exchange wasn't until the start of May, after the end of year exams. The class had been sympathetic to hear that their unfortunate Japanese counterparts were still in school, but that sympathy was quickly usurped by the realisation that Victor and his classmates would have to wear the uniform of the school they were visiting for the three weeks they were there.

( ‘Je ressemble à une girafe mal habillée,’ Chris lamented upon showing up for their bus in the navy military style ensemble, his skinny ankles prominently on show as he was far too tall for the trousers. Victor didn't laugh- one half out of friendship, and the other in solidarity as his own trousers also failed to reach much past his own ankles).

Now, what came next was not so much a plan and more of a desired outcome. Not that it mattered anyway, as none of it had worked out the way Victor had imagined.

Victor had entertained himself for the exceptionally long and arduous flight with the fantasy of stepping into Yuuko’s secondary school looking immaculate in his assigned uniform- brass buttons gleaming, navy fabric bright with hair straightened and catching a subtle breeze. He'd see Yuuko, and next to her would be Kacchan. And Kacchan would turn more than red when he saw Victor in person and Victor would sidle up with a perfectly raspy Salut and it was all going to be the perfect first impression.

Except Japan, as it turned out, was hot. Very, very hot. And whoever designed their school uniforms seemed to not be aware of how hot Japan was, as the unique polyblend of the clothing seemed specifically tailored to soak up as much of said heat as possible until the wearer was practically swimming in their own sweat.

Arriving in the first evening and then immediately collapsing into his hostel bed, Victor had managed to bypass the reality of the May heat. But by the time the class made it to the Hasetsu school the next morning by low-standard bus, they were all tired, red-faced and sticking in places they had never considered before as the summer sun beat down on them like the flames of Hell.

(‘This is practically lewd,’ Chris had whispered in Victor’s ear, utterly delighted as Philippe Lemaire started to unbutton his jacket).

None of Victor’s attempts to keep composure had worked- as he walked towards the entrance of the school, Victor was hugely aware of how his hair had frizzed with the heat, how his nose was likely shining and he could definitely feel an uncomfortable chill of sweat on his back. Victor wondered if maybe he should've tied his hair up and desperately checked his pockets for a tie. This all came to an unfortunate halt when Victor noticed a bunch of students waiting outside the entrance, spotting the iconic pigtails of Yuuko among the line.

As Madam Okukawa liaised with the Japanese teacher, Victor stood in the sun and waved to Yuuko, who waved back with a bright smile on her face. The boy standing immediately next to her was almost Victor’s height, broad and stony faced, looking rather like a wall in the navy uniform. He watched Victor with ill-disguised suspicion. Victor sincerely hoped that the boy wasn't the much anticipated Kacchan.

‘Victor-san!’ Yuuko cried once their respective teachers had waved them all on. She bounced up to him, plaid skirt swishing and garish red ascot tied beautifully. ‘I am so happy to meet you properly!’

‘Me, too!’ Victor replied, leaning forward to take Yuuko into a welcoming hug only to be stopped by a firm hand on his shoulder. Victor froze, meeting the eye of the boy who lurked by Yuuko.

‘Takeshi!’ Yuuko scolded, accent jarring in Victor’s ears at first so it took him a moment to realise that no, thankfully, this boy was not Kacchan. ‘I am so sorry, Victor-san!’

‘It's fine,’ Victor said just as Takeshi blurted out; ‘I’m her boyfriend.’

Victor smiled, pushing a long strand of hair from his tacky face. ‘Yes, I know. Yuuko writes about you the all time. I’m very happy to meet you.’

Victor held out a hand and Takeshi took it with a rather sincere looking smile, evidently all possible suspicions eased at knowing he was acknowledged.

‘Ah, Victor-kun! Your voice is so different to what I thought! Not French at all,’ Yuuko said, sounding disappointed. Victor couldn't manage a blush past his already severely red face, but her words had him coming close.

‘Well, I’m Russian, so-’

‘Kacchan will be disappointed!’ Yuuko said, sighing dramatically before saying something in Japanese to Takeshi that was too fast for Victor to catch. Victor felt his stomach drop. Was Kacchan expecting Victor to have an accent like Chris’? Would he really be put out to learn Victor didn't? Yuuko put her hands on her hips. ‘He was looking forward to seeing you, Victor-san. But he's late! Kacchan is always late!’

Something cooled Victor right down and it took a second for him to recognise relief. Kacchan wasn't here yet. Which meant there was still time for Victor to get his shit together, get his hair right and his skin settled. There was still time to salvage his first impression.

How naïve, Victor had been.

Only half of Yuuko’s classmates were part of the exchange, but all eighteen of them (bar one, Victor noted as he desperately tried to pat his long hair down), had come to meet Victor and his class. They were then led inside where they were offered a pair of what looked like slippers each, (‘Wow! C’est trop mignons!’ Victor exclaimed, Chris grinning back at him), before being brought to their pen-pals’ homeroom.

However, sweet as the slippers were, they also proved to have something of a learning curve to them. Victor could skate as easily as he breathed, always prided himself on his grace. This grace did not apply to slipping on hardwood floors. Victor’s self-esteem was usually pretty solid, but that was in the comfort of a European climate that had his pale skin luminescent and long hair silken. At present, Victor had never felt further than those things as he nursed his now bloody nose from slipping and falling onto it face-first.

As least it wasn't broken, Chris had attempted but Victor just glared at the fucker over the tissue he held to his nostrils.

They were just in the door of the homeroom, Victor wondering how on earth any of these students managed to survive the heat as there seemed to be no air conditioning, when the door suddenly slid open.

‘Sumimasen, Morooka-sensei!’

(This one, Victor knew quite well and could recognise instantly).

The boy who had opened the door was bent over, hands on his knees and panting. His school bag was on his back, slipping down as he was bent. The other students laughed, Morooka-sensei, (a tall, tanned man with short, curly hair), calmly holding a hand up to silence them. He spoke to the boy gently, if sounding a little bit exasperated. Then the boy looked up and Victor felt his heart stop like a clock.

Takeshi calls Kacchan “four eyes” because of his spectacles, but I think they are cute! A bit old-fashioned, but they match his face and are blue! Yuuko had written, in response to a not-so-subtle request on Victor’s part for a description of Kacchan.

“Cute” did not do Kacchan justice.

Kacchan stood up straight, sighing with exertion and raising a hand to his forehand, knuckles brushing the dark bangs from his eyes. Victor watched, transfixed as Kacchan regarded the room, his eyes brown like warm soil in the summer and pink lips parted. Then, slowly, Kacchan seemed to take in the room and the ruffled gaggle of foreigners in the middle of it.

‘Eh!’ Kacchan squawked, before he started babbling in Japanese.

Victor caught sorry and late, but most of his attention was on how the uniform Victor had been admonishing in his head just moments before suddenly seemed far more appealing. It tucked it around Kacchan’s waist in a way Victor’s couldn't, the jacket being so short for him. And the navy matched Kacchan’s glasses well, making his eyes seem all the richer.

It was at that same, wonderful moment of appreciation when Kacchan suddenly met Victor’s gaze that Victor realised with sudden, icy horror how he must look.

In all the scenarios Victor had envisioned, none of them had prepared him for the reality of meeting Kacchan with hair like a bedraggled hedgehog in the throes of old age and spurting blood from an already exceptionally red nose.

Kacchan’s cheeks went pink, evidently embarrassed on Victor’s behalf and he stepped into the classroom, avoiding Victor's gaze for the remainder of the induction.

It was then, in the midst of the crippling mortification and Chris’ far from silent laughter that Victor realised that he needed a plan. A bonafide, fool-proof plan that would help make up for this abomination of a first impression.

He was Victor Nikiforov and tomorrow was going to be a whole new day where this Hasetsu secondary school, and most importantly Kacchan, learned the meaning of that.

The next day, Victor was prepared.

He left for the school early, found the bathroom when he arrived and undid the damage of his commute. Fresh deodorant, hair-rebrushed and face wiped down. Just a touch of concealer over his still slightly pink nose and one gentle swipe of lip balm. In the navy uniform, (adjusted now to be flatteringly tight) and long hair pooling down near his waist, Victor stood back from the mirror, gave himself a quick once over and decided that yes, that was the Victor Nikiforov he knew and the one he would be showing to Kacchan.

Victor leaned against the wall in front of the homeroom in what he hoped was an effortlessly cool way, tossing his curtain of silver hair just-so whenever he heard someone coming down the hall. Going from the giggles he got from the girls and the blushing smiles from the boys, Victor felt it was having the desired effect. However, none of said boys were Kacchan and Victor was going to crick his neck at this rate. Victor soon settled for scrolling through Twitter like a mysterious bad boy, which is how Chris found him a little while later.

‘What are you doing?’ Chris asked bluntly, winking at a passing girl and seemingly putting the poor thing into hysterics. Victor gave Chris a look of absolute dignity because he was Victor sodding Nikiforov and was capable of nothing else, of course.

‘Nothing. Just waiting for class to start.’

Chris raised an eyebrow from behind his round Armani frames, hazel eyes brimming with amusement.

‘You know this isn't our classroom, right?’

‘What? Yes, it is!’ Victor said, though not at all sure now and suddenly panicking. Had he missed Kacchan entirely by waiting in the wrong corridor?!

‘No. This is the Japanese homeroom. Ours is two doors down. Did you listen to anything Madam Okukawa and Morooka said yesterday?’ Chris asked, adjusting his glasses as a group of boys passed them in what appeared to be volleyball kits.

The answer was no, Victor hadn't been listening as most of it had been in Japanese and Victor was rather thinking he'd met his linguistic threshold with English and French as well as his native tongue and aiming for Japanese as well had been setting the bar a tad high. But also there had been the incessant distraction of sitting next to Yuuko, which put Victor firmly in the narrow space between her desk and Kacchan’s.

(Kacchan’s hair had stood up in soft tufts that Victor watched the boy fidget with, all the while extremely self-conscious of his own straggly mess of platinum. Maybe Kacchan had found it as endearing on Victor as Victor found it on him).

‘Oh,’ was all Victor had to say and Chris laughed at him, aiming a hand down the hall.

‘After you, cheri.’

‘Um, no. I think I'll stay here a bit longer,’ Victor said, smiling blithely as some familiar people from Yuuko and Kacchan’s class passed them. Chris eyed him and Victor gently tossed his hair again. ‘I’ll wait to say good morning to Yuuko and her friends.’

Victor should've stopped at Yuuko, because the moment friends was out of his mouth, Chris’ eyes went about as wide as a Zhostovo dinner plate, grin turning entirely mocking.

‘On mon dieu, you're stalking the skating guy!’ Chris cried, far too loudly and frankly, far too happily.

‘I'm not stalking anyone,’ Victor replied through his teeth. ‘And would you keep your voice down!’

‘Oh, mon chéri. This is very bad. You are just all out stalking this unfortunate child now,’ Chris teased, poking Victor in the ribs with a rather bony finger. Victor yelped, (in a manly way), as Chris laughed at him. ‘This poor Kacchan. And poor Yuuko, too. Not knowing how heartlessly you're using her!’

‘I'm not using her,’ Victor snapped, just as Yuuko came around the corner. Disappointingly, however, she just seemed to be accompanied by Takeshi though they both waved to Victor on seeing him.

‘Ohayō, Victor-san!’ Yuuko said, pigtails swinging as she tilted her head with a smile. ‘Ohayō, Chris-san!’

‘Kon'nichiwa, Yuuko, Takeshi!’ Chris replied for them, as Victor was not so subtly trying to look over Yuuko’s shoulder for Kacchan.

‘Victor-san, are you alright?’ Yuuko asked, as Victor teetered on the toes of his uwabaki in attempt to spot the elusive Kacchan through the crowd. He could feel Yuuko watching him, but Victor simply shrugged idly like it was just effortless browsing. Except for-

‘He's looking for your friend,’ Chris said, firmly stopping Victor’s admittedly ill-defined guise of nonchalance. ‘The skater. Victor can't wait to talk techniques with him.’

Chris winked, (Victor grumbling sourly in French), but Yuuko thankfully seemed to miss the innuendo as Victor sank against the wall in shame. Takeshi however gave Victor a knowing look that was completely unfair with Victor having only met the sod once. Takeshi snickered, leaning to Yuuko and whispering; ‘Buta-chan! Kawaii!’

‘Oh, Kacchan is always late,’ Yuuko said, waving a hand at Takeshi and sticking her nose up, as though even merely saying the word late may tarnish her pristine reputation. Yuuko gave Victor a very stern look that reminded him vividly of his mother. ‘You shouldn't wait out here for him. You'll be late, too!’

‘Don't worry, Victor’s already a lost cause. Madam Okukawa just told him to learn the word for late instead of his own name,’ Chris said brightly. Victor frowned at Chris, hating him, as Takeshi laughed but Yuuko gave Victor a look of continued lacklustre, stripping Victor of any remaining confidence he had left.

In the end, Victor was left alone to wait for Kacchan. Well, almost alone. As there were two girls who were also lurking outside the homeroom, (no doubt trying to spot their own potential crush as well), but they were rather distracting with their snickering. After a few moments of this, Victor rather hoped they'd just go away as his resolve was already hanging by a bare thread and their simpering was certainly not helping.

Then, finally, with only five or so minutes to spare before class officially started, Victor spotted his mark.

Kacchan came around the corner of the hall, completely engrossed in a battered copybook with two more shoved under his elbow and backpack hanging from one shoulder. With his athletic form, messy black hair and fetching glasses, the whole picture of Kacchan walking down the hall towards Victor greatly resembled a few of the fantasies Victor had been having all throughout secondary school. A sporty classmate who also happened to be well fit, all wrapped up in a neat navy packet? Sign Victor up like Chris to the gymnastics squad.

‘Kacchan!’ Victor beamed excitedly, startling Kacchan as it seemed so that the boy dropped the books he was holding. They hit the ground with a loud thud, the girls quiet muttering turning to outright laughter now.

Victor felt his cheeks heat up as Kacchan’s face went bright red in turn, all the way down to the white trimmed collar of his uniform jacket. Kacchan balked, bending down for his books and avoiding Victor’s eye completely. Victor went after him in a panic, promptly banging their heads together.

‘Ach!’ Kacchan coughed as Victor swore loudly. The two girls who had been waiting at the wall giggled loudly and Victor found himself not at all enjoying the concept of girls in school. Lads had a solidarity in these things, at least and left the mocking to private.

‘I’m sorry, Kacchan,’ Victor said sincerely, hoping against hope that his own blush would calm down before Kacchan looked at him again. Kacchan pulled back the hand that was reaching for the book closest to Victor, glancing up and now, Victor was face to face. Kacchan’s brown eyes were wide behind his glasses, lashes dark and looking feather soft. Victor gaped, suddenly unable to think of anything to say.

‘Yuuri,’ Kacchan squeaked, voice catching in his throat.

‘Gesundheit,’ Victor answered immediately, endeared by the small sneeze. Kacchan frowned at Victor, eyes flying away before flitting back again.

‘Uh, no,’ Kacchan said slowly, a little louder. He pointed a finger to his own chest. ‘My name is Yuuri. Katsuki Yuuri.’

Victor froze.

Oh.

Oh, fucking fuck-

‘Fuck,’ Victor said, and the girls giggled again before saying something to Yuuri in Japanese, right over Victor’s head like he wasn’t there. Yuuri replied quietly with a frown, gathering up his books as Victor balanced on his knees, completely mortified. Again.

Kacchan was what Yuuko had used in her letters. What she called Yuuri but they were best-friends. Since childhood, Yuuko had said in one letter. A nickname. Of course it was a nickname and Victor just-

‘Fuck,’ Victor said again, scrambling to his feet as Yuuri stood up with his books clutched tightly to his chest. He watched Victor carefully over the rim of his glasses, tugging on his bottom lip with his teeth. Victor untied his tongue, cheeks burning; ‘I’m so sorry! I thought- doesn't matter. I’m an idiot. I'm sorry.’

‘No, no,’ Yuuri stammered, voice quiet and ears turning red now, and oh god, Victor was really messing this up. ‘It’s okay, I u-’

‘Victor,’ Victor blurted out, without any semblance of grace. He stuck his hand out, giving Yuuri the smile Victor had practiced a thousand times before for his competitions. ‘Victor Nikiforov.’

‘Yes. I know,’ Yuuri replied, not reaching a hand back and Victor deflated. But with a quick shake of his head, Victor attempted to stick the landing.

‘Here,’ he said, offering his hands out altogether. ‘Let me carry your books to class for you.’

Yuuri stared at him, looking away to the classroom door and back to Victor again.

‘Um, thank you. But I’m… ah, already at the classroom.’

The girls burst into laughter again as Victor felt the blood drain from his face in a rather impressive show of just how badly this had all gone. Yuuri hovered, his pink cheeks unfortunately obvious against the dark of his eyes and Victor ran a hand nervously through his hair, promptly managing to knot his own fingers in it.

‘Is your nose better, Victor-san?’ Yuuri asked kindly as Victor subtly tried to twist his own hand free from his hair. It took Victor a moment to understand, staring as Yuuri nervously clung his books to his chest. Yuuri stammered; ‘I-I’m sorry! I hope I’m not prying, I just mean- about yesterday, you see. I’m sorry!’

Yuuri bowed his head and Victor blinked, taken aback.

‘No, it’s fine!’ Victor hurried to say, reaching out before thinking better of it. He put his hands in the tight pockets of his trousers instead. ‘I’m the one who should be sorry.’ Victor had really hoped Yuuri might not have remembered, but really, who was Victor kidding? That kind of fuck up tended to make a memory of itself. He hung his head. ‘That really was very embarrassing.’

Yuuri smiled and Victor’s heart did a very funny thing then. Like it had suddenly grown wings and decided to fly away altogether, leaving Victor with the most pleasant weightless feeling in his chest as Yuuri pushed some hair behind his ear, eyes dark and glancing beneath his lashes. ‘Don’t be silly. What matters is you’re okay.’

‘I’m much better now,’ Victor flirted, taking a chance. Unfortunately, it seemed to go right over Yuuri’s head, who just shrugged good-naturedly without that blush Victor so liked on him.

‘Good. You have a nice nose, it would bad if you had broken it,’ Yuuri said, before freezing up entirely as he seemed to realise what he’d just said. Victor, however, was very aware and very pleased. He leaned forward, appreciating his height as he teetered on the edges of his uwabaki in front of Yuuri.

‘Anything else about me you like?’ Victor asked and there was no missing the meaning there surely. As hoped, Yuuri went a rather charming shade of pink. Victor took full advantage, leaning forward and entirely into Yuuri’s personal space. Which, to be fair, was quite the gamble but Victor was feeling confident.

(Mistake).

‘What about my hair?’ Victor asked softly, not bothering to stop where his hair had fallen forward against Yuuri’s face. ‘I made sure to style it specially this morning. I hoped you’d like it.’

Yuuri shivered, Victor trembling in return. They were close, Victor’s right knuckles brushing against Yuuri’s hip through the cheap blend of the uniform pockets. The most lovely warmth was beginning to roll down Victor’s insides, down deep in his stomach like a sweet syrup. Victor didn’t think he’d ever liked someone this much and yeah, alright, Victor may have been laying it on a bit thick. But there was just something about Yuuri.

Victor was considering saying as much, pulling back to see if he could tempt a response from Yuuri, when something went… wrong. Because of course it did.

As Victor pulled away, he tossed his head just-so in an attempt to get that curtain swing to his hair that Victor knew would have the desired effect of tying his pick up together quite splendidly. He may even have been on the cusp of getting Yuuri’s number! But then, just as Victor moved, something snagged painfully in his hair. Alarmed, Victor jumped back from the sting on his head, pulling Yuuri’s glasses with him, as his hair seemed to have gotten caught on the frames of them.

The glasses flew off, swinging through the air with a long arch from where they had been caught halfway down Victor’s hair. Yuuri made a choked sort of noise, free arm reaching out as Victor yelped in surprise, furiously scrabbling at his hair to try and undo the way it had tangled around the blue frames. Yuuri’s fingers brushed against Victor’s, causing their eyes to meet. Both paused, Victor stammering as their hands hovered together.

‘Oh my god,’ Victor said, breathless with embarrassment. ‘I’m so sorry-’

‘No, no! I’m sorry! They’re my glasses!’

‘If I could just, hold on-’

‘It seems to be stuck just-’

‘Hang on, hang on! I think I’ve got it!’

Just as Victor said that, whatever God there was laughed. Loudly, bitterly and with much cruel mirth it would seem, as Victor indeed managed to tug the glasses free from his hair, (with a pretty horrifying ripping sound), only to somehow lose grip of them entirely in the scramble.

It was like the most horrifying slow motion Victor had ever seen. The glasses fell from between them, Yuuri’s eyes round with panic as he evidently saw it coming before Victor did. The glasses hit the ground with a loud, clear crack. One that seemed to echo through the hallway, even rendering the giggling girls a little ways down silent.

For a moment, neither of them said anything. All Victor could do was stare down in horror at Yuuri’s glasses where they lay, one lense shattered in a long, spiderweb crack, but once reality seemed to catch up to Victor from the terrible nightmare he clearly found himself in, Victor immediately dropped to his knees to pick up the glasses. Yuuri didn’t move, probably too angry with Victor to say anything.

‘Fuck,’ was all Victor could say, hoping that perhaps the glasses weren’t as broken as they appeared. (They were. They most definitely were). He offered them back to Yuuri regardless, who took them wordlessly. Victor tried to get a read on Yuuri’s face, but he was looking down at the remains of his glasses, eyes hidden beneath his black bangs. ‘Oh, Yuuri. I’m so, so sorry. I’ll pay for the repair! Please forgive me.’

Yuuri looked up then, shutting Victor right up because oh. Oh.

Yuuri was particularly cute with his glasses, Victor had noticed. But without them, Yuuri was something else altogether. He somehow managed to look a little older, looking at Victor with big old brown eyes and pink cheeks, mouth a fold from where his bottom lip was pinched between his teeth. Almost like he was laughing. Like Victor had managed to tell a particularly funny joke. 

(At this point, Victor was feeling he was the joke more than anything).

Yuuri folded the glasses, slipping them into his pocket before running a hand through his hair. And wow, Victor would like to see Yuuri do that again. Or perhaps have Yuuri do it to him. Victor had a lot of hair, prime for someone cute and hot like Yuuri to run his fingers through. (Of course, Victor was immediately going to cut the whole lot off now, out of spite).

The chances of getting Yuuri that close were pretty much zero now anyway. Bloody nose, Victor could probably have recovered from. Breaking Yuuri’s glasses? Before class?

Not even Chris could bring himself back from that one.

(And that was saying something, as Chris would go to depths Victor wouldn’t. Not to speak ill of a classmate, of course).

‘Yuuri-’

‘Katsuki-kun!’

Yuuri jumped, turning abruptly away from Victor to face an approaching boy with vividly dyed hair of red and blonde that gave the impression his hair was on fire from a distance. Yuuri answered in Japanese, too fast and natural for Victor catch anything other than good morning! The boy pointed at Yuuri’s face, no doubt asking about the glasses and Victor wanted the floor to swallow him. Whatever short time Victor had, it was most certainly up as at that same moment, a bell starting chiming in short sing-song for the start of classes.

‘Ah,’ Yuuri sighed, the boy with bright hair stopping next to them and regarding Victor with an openly curious expression. Victor ignored him and tried not to fidget under the scrutiny. Yuuri looked up at Victor, giving a small smile. ‘I have to go. Goodbye, Victor-san!’

Yuuri bowed his head again, the boy next to him following suit quickly and with much more enthusiasm. Not that Victor was judging Yuuri on the quality of his bow, as who was Victor to judge really? But he couldn’t help the small stab of disappointment that punctured through him as Yuuri straightened up quickly and walked into the classroom, colourful friend trotting after and already babbling away in Japanese like Victor wasn’t there.

Once alone, Victor sighed and reluctantly started making his way towards the classroom he was supposed to be in. At least the girls that had been hovering for the worst of it had buggered off to whatever classroom they were required to be in. Hooray for small mercies, it would seem…

‘Well, how did it go?’ Chris asked, wiggling his eyebrows over the top of his round spectacles as Victor sat down in his seat, Madam Okukawa rattling a tirade at Victor’s back for being five minutes late. Victor stared at Chris’ glasses for a moment, remembering with perfect clarity how Yuuri’s had cracked in one, impressive line.

Victor slumped against his desk, forehead banging against the wood. Chris whistled.

‘Merde. You do have it bad.’

The next few days passed in a disorientating blur. Between organising classes and recovering from the jetlag that started to kick in hard after the second day, Victor didn’t have much of a chance to find Yuuri and offer him the money for the glasses himself. Madam Okukawa had come down hard for his lateness that first official day of classes, saying it would not be accepted in a Japanese school. And organising an exchange at the Post Office had been a merry disaster as well, but eventually, Victor had gotten the requisite Yen. When he’d brought it up to Yuuko during one of their tutoring sessions, she had gasped across the desk and covered her mouth with both hands; just so Victor knew exactly how scandalised she was by the situation.

‘You broke Kacchan’s glasses!’

‘It was an accident!’

‘He loves those glasses!’ Yuuko had continued, sticking the knife in and twisting so Victor could really appreciate just how evil he was for the whole thing. ‘Poor Kacchan. He can’t see Sensei’s writing without them. Yes, I’ll give him the money at once!’

So Victor had reluctantly handed the money over and resigned himself to the fact that he and Yuuri were likely over before they had even gotten the chance to get started. After all, Yuuri wasn’t in the exchange program and Victor had no reason to see him. So Victor had sulked his way through the last of the week and just tried to get his work done. Chris told him to stop moping and join the rest of them for dinner at a local inn, but Victor had declined out of respect for his bruised ego.

(It was a sensitive thing, after all).

Saturday afternoon, in the bright cafeteria of Hasetsu High School, the universe threw Victor a bone.

‘That boy’s looking at you, Victor,’ Chris said with a smirk, eyes alight with green mischief behind his glasses. Victor stuttered in his seat from where he had been teetering it on it’s back legs, just catching himself from turning like a corkscrew and toppling over entirely. Chris’ gaze flicked back over Victor’s shoulder. ‘Or maybe he's looking at me. Makes more sense- I am definitely better looking than you.’

Victor ignored this, turning his head under the pretence of adjusting his long hair, which he’d braided up into a Dutch plait. He twisted in his seat, trying to give off the vibe of someone simply stretching as he looked over in the direction Chris had inclined. And there across the cafeteria was Yuuri.

Yuuri was leaning against one of the windows, looking much cooler than Victor was feeling, hot flush creeping in beneath his collar as Victor caught Yuuri’s brown eyes watching him. His glasses had been repaired at some point and Victor tried not to flinch from the memory of breaking them. Yuuri had his hourglass hips tipped, black hair suitably tousled as he turned pink as Victor caught him, turning away quickly to keep talking to Yuuko who was standing next to him.

‘Nice eyes,’ Chris remarked, forcing Victor’s attention back to him. Victor turned back in his seat, wondering if Yuuri would notice if Victor suddenly swapped sides of the table just to look at the skater. ‘Nice ass, too. Knowing you.’

Victor scowled at Chris, which did nothing but cause his friend to laugh.

‘You know, they taught us the most useful Japanese yesterday,’ Chris said, sliding his half-full bottle of water across the table from one hand to the other. Victor watched, somewhat. But he found himself continuously flicking his gaze back over his shoulder towards Yuuri, who seemed to be back into conversation with Yuuko again. ‘Kon’nichiwa. Means hello. You should give it a go.’

‘Because it went so well last time,’ Victor grumbled, drumming his fingers along the white veneer of the cafeteria table top. ‘I’m probably the last person he wants to see.’

‘Think so? It definitely must be me he’s staring at then,’ Chris said happily, now moving to fish his iPhone from his pocket. ‘Shame to waste such hospitality. Maybe I’ll go get his number.’

Victor knew Chris was baiting him. But knowing this did nothing to stop the ugly, anxious knot of jealousy that suddenly burned hot in him. Chris grinned, clearly pleased with himself at Victor’s no doubt thunderous expression. But then, Chris’ eyes went right over Victor and his smile melted into something far more innocent. Victor frowned, suspicious, before the cause made itself known by a quiet, lovely voice saying; ‘Victor-san?’

Victor bolted upright in his haste, long plait swinging behind him like a pendulum as he turned to face Yuuri. Victor had forgotten how much taller he was, nose nearly brushing along the top of Yuuri’s head. Yuuri looked up at him, cheeks burning beneath his newly repaired glasses.

‘Yuuri!’ Victor smiled, quickly shoving his hands into his pockets in some sort of mad dash effort to look cool. He tilted his head, smiled easily and let that happy feeling Yuuri seemed to inspire guide him. ‘I’m so happy to see you.’

Yuuri chewed his lip, smiling back. ‘You- you are?’

‘Of course!’ Victor said eagerly, hopping on his feet. ‘I see you got your glasses fixed. Did you get my money from Yuuko?’

‘Yes, I did. Thank you!’ Yuuri said, bowing his head once very quickly. When he looked back up, his blush had gotten far worse and it was the most adorable thing Victor had ever seen. Yuuri fidgeted with something in his pockets for a few moment, before holding out a neat, folded envelope. ‘But please, I can’t accept it.’

‘What?’ Victor looked at the envelope, then back up to Yuuri. ‘No way! I broke them, it was entirely my fault!’

‘It’s okay, Victor-san,’ Yuuri said kindly, meeting Victor’s eye briefly before looking away again. He shuffled on his feet, neck creeping pink again. ‘They were old anyway. I’ve been looking for an excuse to get some new ones.’

Victor knew Yuuri was just saying that to make him feel better. But what mattered was, it worked. Victor did feel a little better, but mostly it was due to the fact that Yuuri had made the effort to come over and speak to Victor himself and not just send Yuuko back over with a missive. Victor really enjoyed having Yuuri to himself like this. He was so distractingly lovely, Victor could almost forget that he had the eyes of Chris and half his class on his back.

(Almost).

‘Want to come for a walk with me?’ Victor asked impulsively, not at all sure where exactly he and Yuuri could walk to in the twenty or so minutes left of lunchbreak. But if anything was goingto go wrong, (again), Victor really fancied avoiding it happening in front of his classmates. And Chris. Who was infinitely worse.

‘Trés romantique!’ Chris said, as if to make that very point. Victor tossed one quick, furious scowl over his shoulder before turning back to Yuuri politely.

‘You want to walk with me?’ Yuuri asked, sounding genuinely surprised.

‘Yes, please.’

‘Oh. Okay,’ Yuuri said, smiling seemingly beside himself and it made Victor grin back, equally happy. ‘We can walk outside by the trees, if you like.’

‘I’d love to,’ Victor said, following Yuuri as he led them both through the cafeteria. There were a few giggles, some girls snickering as they passed their table and Chris hollering happily across the room like the tosser he was. Yuuri kindly pointed out different classrooms as they passed them, uwabaki soft down the stairs as they made their way to the lockers where their shoes were.

Once outside, Yuuri seemed to run out of school things to talk about. Not that Victor minded what Yuuri talked about anyway. Yuuri had adorable English, his accent giving the words hills and valleys that Victor felt his Russian one couldn’t achieve. It sounded soft and inviting in Yuuri’s mouth as Yuuri talked about Yuuko and his classmates, Victor staring at it the whole time as they passed under the verdant trees.

‘I’m probably boring you,’ Yuuri said suddenly, looking down at his shoes. He kicked at a stone. ‘You haven’t said anything.’

‘Would you believe me if I said it’s because I find the school interesting?’ Victor asked, bumping Yuuri’s shoulder with his own. Yuuri looked up at him, blinking behind his glasses.

‘No,’ Yuuri said, but he was smiling. Just a little. Victor smiled back.

‘Okay. Fair enough,’ Victor conceded, shrugging his shoulders. The trees rustled above them, shadows rippling across the path like water. ‘The truth is I just like listening to you. I’ve spent so long waiting to talk to you, that now that we’re finally together, all I want is for you to talk.’

When Yuuri didn’t say anything, Victor stopped at looked at him. Yuuri paused, too, arms folded over his chest and blushing, eyes staring straight down at his own feet.

‘You can’t just say something like that.’

‘Why not?’

‘It’s embarrassing! Saying things like that!’ Yuuri squeaked and Victor laughed, unable to stop himself. ‘Are you laughing at me?’

‘A little,’ Victor replied, bending over to lean over Yuuri slightly with a smirk. ‘But you’re smiling, so I think I’m getting away with it.’

Yuuri pouted at that, which was frankly, unfair entirely as Victor melted right then and there. Who could resist that? Yuuri turned his head, nose up and starting walking again, leaving Victor to trail after. And trail after Victor did, though perhaps a little slower than required. It would be a shame to waste the view of Yuuri’s retreating… back.

As Victor caught up, Yuuri seemed to have warmed up to him again, looking over the top of his glasses. ‘Let me give the money back, Victor-san. It isn’t fair for you to pay for my glasses, you’re a guest here.’

‘Yuuri~’ Victor said, trying something out by rolling the r in the most Russian way he could manage and leaning heavily into it. Yuuri froze, lips thin and cheeks flaming and Victor had never wanted to kiss someone so much before. ‘Please. I broke them, I should pay for them. I want to pay for them.’

That seemed to do it, as Yuuri didn’t protest anymore. They walked a little further before the bell chimed across the grounds that class would be starting again in a few minutes. Reluctantly, Victor followed Yuuri back in the direction of the foyer. He was just trying to think of a way to try and get Yuuri alone like this again, perhaps even going so far as a date when-

‘How about a trade then?’ Yuuri asked, eyebrow raised in something Victor could even call a challenge, if he’d known Yuuri a little better. Victor fully intended on getting to know Yuuri a little better. ‘Come have lunch at my family’s inn tomorrow.’

‘Yes,’ Victor said, before Yuuri even truly finished his sentence. They made it to the foyer, a few other students who had been outside coming to replace their shoes as well. Yuuri stopped Victor before they parted ways, holding his phone out.

‘May I have your number? I’ll text you the address.’

‘Of course!’ Victor said, tapping in the number quickly before moving to save and freezing up entirely. Kanji. Lots of it. ‘Um..’

Yuuri tipped the screen with one finger, reading the phone upside down. He looked up at Victor, amused. ‘Oh, Victor-san. Yuuko said your Japanese wasn’t very good.’

‘Perhaps some extra lessons,’ Victor replied, taking advantage and adding a wink for good measure. Yuuri laughed lightly, shaking his head as he took the phone from Victor. ‘See you tomorrow?’

‘Tomorrow,’ Yuuri promised.

‘So, you think you’ll get a leg over after ramen tomorrow?’ Chris asked that night, from the bottom bunk of the beds he shared with Victor in the hostel.

Victor had answered in the most mature way he could think of. He sacrificed a pillow by throwing it down and hitting Chris in the face with it. With a loud, satisfying flump!

‘It’s a date, Chris. I’m going to charm him.’

Victor stared up in the darkness at the ceiling, highly suspicious of the silence below him.

‘What?’

‘Nothing. I just think that’s probably the most virgin thing I’ve ever heard someone say. Do you even know if you’re good at anything? Maybe Yuuri will kick you out.’

Victor tossed the other pillow, willing to sleep without if it meant there was the slightest chance of suffocating Chris with it.

Victor spent the entirety of Sunday styling his hair, pulling it back down and then starting all over again from scratch. The outfit was a little easier, as Victor didn’t have to constrain himself into the unpleasant starchiness of the uniform of the school. Victor had chosen what he felt was a suitably charming long-sleeved t-shirt in sailor stripes and some ankle length trousers. When he’d done a quick turn for Chris, (by way of a mirror, seeing as the hostel did not provide a full length one), he got a wolf-whistle. Which wasn’t half bad.

‘It’s all going to fall out if you keep tugging on it like that.’

‘Shut up,’ Victor said from where he was squeezed into the small hostel bathroom at the end of the hall, wondering if he should pin his bangs back or not as his high ponytail swung behind him.

‘Victor Nikiforov, gold medalist. Bald at seventeen.’

‘Don’t you have somewhere else to be? Like choking somewhere?’

‘Only if you ask nicely,’ Chris said to that with a purr and Victor threw him a filthy look, finally deciding to keep the bangs down. They framed his face. ‘So where is this inn?’

‘Yutopia,’ Victor answered, having learned the address off by heart in the few short hours of getting it and now. And the hours seemed even fewer, as Victor had stayed up just a tad too late as he and Yuuri had spent a good portion of the evening texting back and forth, sharing links to the YouTube uploads of each’s skates from their respective nationals and locals.

(Yuuri was good, despite his protestations otherwise. But Victor could see even from the worst 360p uploads that Yuuri got so nervous every joint in his body seemed to freeze up. Victor had entertained himself by imagining the many ways he could help Yuuri… loosen up).

(Yuuri told Victor, at 2:34am exactly according to the timestamp, that he’d actually watched most of Victor’s skates already since Yuuko had told him Victor was a skater. This led to Victor pushing Yuuri to know which was his favourite, something Yuuri promised to reveal at dinner).

‘Oh, we went there the other night! It was lovely.’

‘You’ve been there? And you didn’t tell me it was Yuuri’s place!’ Victor said, outraged. Chris dropped his chin dramatically in a manner that asked Victor just how thick are you? as Victor realised that, of course, there was no way for Chris to have known that. ‘Right. Sorry. So it’s nice?’

‘Very,’ Chris said, going back to whomever he was texting on his phone. ‘It’s an onsen.’

‘A what?’

‘God, why are you even in this class?’ Chris sighed, before switching to a pouting duckface for a Snapchat. He went back to texting. ‘Asides from using it as an excuse to get the shift.’

Victor didn’t dignify that with a reply, fishing his phone and wallet from his bag and shoving them into his trouser pockets as he got ready to leave.

‘An onsen is a bathhouse,’ Chris said, looking like he was completely engrossed in his phone except for his teasing tone giving him away. ‘Maybe Yuuri will ask you for a dip. They bathe naked here, you know.’

Victor stubbed his foot on the door on the way out.

The entire time Victor followed the pre-searched route to Yutopia on Google Maps, Victor texted Yuuri updates on his journey. That he was (approximately) twenty two minutes away. That it really was a lovely day, that the seagulls reminded Victor of his real home in Saint Petersburg. Yuuri replied with cute emojis, each one really working towards convincing Victor that they were flirting.

11:47AM I hope you like the katsudon. It’s my favourite! (＾ω＾)

Victor didn’t know what that was, but he was sure he’d love it.

Yutopia was… well, the only thing Victor could think to describe it as was it was very Japanese. Wooden pillars, wooden floors and no chairs at any of the tables. He was greeted at the little hall everywhere in Japan seemed to have where Victor removed his shoes by a woman with dyed hair, pushed back over her head with a bandana. She smelled of cigarettes, but smiled kindly in a familiar way. Victor managed to just stutter out Yuuri and lunch to her in his terrible Japanese when her face cleared with understanding.

‘Ahh. I see. Yuuri’s foreigner friend. One minute, Yuuri is cooking.’

Victor flushed, not entirely sure if that was an insult or not. The woman introduced herself as Mari Katsuki, Yuuri’s older sister. Her English was much more accented than Yuuri’s, slower, too. She brought Victor to the far corner of the restaurant area, in a small alcove at a low square table. Victor entertained himself with his phone, trying not to feel too self-conscious sitting at the table on his own.

It was worth the wait.

Yuuri swung in out of nowhere, it seemed, and sat down in the alcove with Victor. Regrettably, across the table and not directly next to Victor, but Victor could work with that. Yuuri was bundled into a t-shirt that looked far too big for him and a black apron tied in front of it. He smiled brightly at Victor across the table.

‘Hello, Victor-san.’

‘You don’t have to do that, you know,’ Victor said, folding his arms and leaning them on the table. ‘Call me san. Victor is fine.’

Yuuri blinked, looking taken aback, before promptly crumbling in the most adorable fashion. ‘Ah. Maybe.’

Victor frowned, suddenly self-conscious again. ‘Wait, should I use san on you?’

‘No, no!’ Yuuri replied, waving his hands. ‘Not if you don’t want to. You’re foreign, I know it’s not a thing for you in Europe.’

‘Or Russia,’ Victor corrected gently and Yuuri rubbed the back of his neck, glasses sliding down his nose.

‘Sorry, I forgot. I know you sound different to the others,’ Yuuri said, shuffling on the little cushion he was folded onto. ‘I like your English much better, by the way. You have a nice voice.’

That made Victor feel particularly warm and fuzzy inside. Like something happy had decided to make its home in the bottom of his tummy and purr content there forever and ever, amen. Victor could happily sit in this alcove and flirt with Yuuri all day and Victor fully intended to do that. He wasn’t sure how long passed, as they went back and forth in conversation. Yuuri talked about the inn, the baths. How it was the busiest time of year for them, so he’s sorry he couldn’t take Victor somewhere else. Victor promised there was no where else he’d rather be.

Victor talked about Saint Petersburg, Zurich. The other places he had been, over the years as his family and training moved around. Yuuri complimented Victor on taking skating so seriously. Victor complimented Yuuri for making skating so beautiful. They both paused over the English words they didn’t know, Victor repeating Russian to Yuuri just to hear the way Yuuri absolutely butchered it in repeat.

All in all, as first dates went, it wasn’t a bad one at all.

Before long, the food arrived and Victor found himself, for the first time since this whole exchange business started, truly distracted from Yuuri as the katsudon he had been served was amazing.

‘I think I can die happy now,’ Victor said over a really good mouthful of egg. Yuuri beamed proudly, expertly picking his bowl apart with chopsticks. (Yuuri had taken pity on Victor after the first few minutes and brought a fork). Victor considered as he chewed. ‘Hmm. Actually, no. Not quite yet.’

‘No?’ Yuuri asked, carefully balancing some rice with his chopsticks. ‘What’s left to do before you die at the ripe old age of seventeen?’

‘Win gold at an international competition,’ Victor said immediately, waiting for Yuuri to meet his eye before continuing. Victor winked then, loving Yuuri’s blush. ‘And get the perfect kiss.’

‘The perfect kiss?’

‘The perfect kiss, from the perfect person,’ Victor flirted, wishing the table wasn’t so low and wide. They could be so much closer! But Japanese furniture seemed intent of separating them by as much mass as possible. ‘Have you ever been kissed, Yuuri?’

Yuuri choked on his rice.

Once he’d caught his breath, Yuuri looked at Victor like he’d just grown a second head and that head had proceeded to spit fire like some sort of dragon; ‘That’s such a personal question!’

Victor considered that. ‘Is that a no then?’

‘I’m not answering that question, Victor-san.’

‘Sounds like a no.’

Yuuri muttered something in Japanese, cheeks round and red like apples. Victor grinned, entirely too pleased with himself. Victor had never given it much thought before, but really, it would be rather nice to be someone’s first kiss. Well, not just someone’s. Victor looked up from his meal at his flustered date.

The perfect person.

Over the next week, Victor considered the plan to be going rather swimmingly.

Victor and Yuuri spent every lunch together; eating (and occasionally sharing) bento in the cafeteria before going for walks around the school grounds. The summer heat was almost unbearable for Victor most days, so Yuuri would take pity and let them settle in the shade of a tree where they could continue their conversations.

Victor wanted to spend every moment of this trip with Yuuri, but Yuuri had declined on the basis that he had too much study and skate training in the evenings to have any free time, especially with work at the onsen. Yuuri had sounded regretful about it, which had definitely soothed the sting to Victor’s ego. But the whole thing was getting a little scary for Victor now, if he was being honest.

A crush was one thing. But this? This nervous tapping in Victor’s brain that sounded an awful lot like Yuuri Yuuri Yuuri was something Victor had never experienced before. He wanted to follow Yuuri home, like some kind of psycho. He wanted to kiss Yuuri, hold his hand and call Yuuri his boyfriend. It had actually gotten so bad, that Victor was beginning to imagine what Katsuki Victor might look like in kanji.

(Victor was, in no small terms, fucked).

Which maybe would all have been fine, if Victor could just have been a little more certain that Yuuri fancied him back. But as it was, Victor was not as sure as he’d like to be. Yuuri blushed quite a bit, and they walked pretty close. He even let Victor carry his books on occasion and Victor liked to think that gave everyone the right impression. (The constant presence of snickering girls certainly implied so, Victor thought bitterly).

But they hadn’t actually said anything. Or touched, not really. Not properly. Not like Here, I think you’re lovely and I’d like to hold your hand and possibly snog you for fifteen minutes straight.

Victor was still Victor-san and no amount of Googling, or subtle questioning to Yuuko during tutoring could satisfy Victor on whether or not that was a good thing.

However, a break to this tenuous status quo came about towards the end of the second week, when Yuuri asked Victor if he’d like to go skating with himself and Yuuko on Sunday. Victor had said yes so quickly, his voice had cracked.

(It took two hours to recover from that one).

Which was where Victor found himself now, standing in some rented skates on the Hasetsu skating rink owned by Yuuko’s parents, Ice Palace. Victor was simply skating along the edge, doing some quiet laps as Yuuko and Yuuri warmed up in the bottom corner. In rented skates, Victor didn’t fancy giving anything too ambitious a go. One bad fall was all it could take, after all.

Before long, Yuuri was skating up alongside Victor, their hands brushing close but not touching. Victor tried not to be bothered by it, flicking his long hair out of his face as they skated.

‘Do I have you all to myself now?’ Victor asked, reaching out to try and steady Yuuri as he suddenly wobbled in his skates. Yuuri managed to right himself before Victor could touch though. Yuuri gave Victor a withering look, one Victor was becoming familiar with over the week.

‘Victor-san,’ Yuuri scolded, shaking his head. There were no glasses in danger of falling this time, as Yuuri had forgone them for skating. ‘You say the most terrible things, do you know that?’

Victor shrugged, not at all sorry and trying to put down that niggling little thought that was torn between the eternal argument that had been plaguing Victor the last two weeks in Hasetsu. Was it cultural differences, or was Yuuri shutting him down?

Victor was getting more and more afraid of the answer with every day.

‘What should I do to make you forgive me?’ Victor asked, flipping his weight with ease. He glided in front of Yuuri with one graceful swoop, Yuuri slipping to halt and looking up at Victor in their skates. Victor decided it was time for another ill-advised but satisfying gamble.

(Maybe God was full on laughs today and would take pity).

Victor reached up, taking Yuuri’s chin in his hand. It was risky, possibly a little crazy and really, Victor had only ever seen such a thing in cartoons and movies. But Yuuri was giving Victor that same, beautiful wide-eyed look Victor had so admired on their first day meeting and Victor’s heart was beginning to race along to a merry little tune, regardless that it didn’t quite know the melody.

‘Any ideas, Yuuri?’

Yuuri didn’t say anything for a long while and Victor tried to hold steady, ignoring the way the back of his neck was definitely creeping up with embarrassment. The edge of Victor’s thumb was grazing the very corner of Yuuri’s lip and sure, Victor had kissed a few fellas, but this was something else entirely. There was something luminous, buoyant and scary fragile hammering in Victor’s chest where his heart should be from this one, simple touch.

‘You’re already skating with me,’ Yuuri finally said, eyes fixed on Victor’s. As he spoke, his bottom lip tugged on the tip of Victor’s thumb. ‘That’s all I want. Just you, as you are.’

And that- that just knocked the air right of Victor entirely. He dropped his hand, too surprised to think of anything particularly clever or cool to say. Yuuri blushed, wrapping his arms around himself like he was trying to be smaller. Victor felt his stomach drop, suddenly worried he’d pushed Yuuri too far and sorry for it. In movies, there was always a sign that things would work out. But the reality was Victor was pretty much stumbling around in the dark and possibly breaking every fragile thing that hid there.

‘Ah, Yuuri!’ Victor exclaimed, beaming brightly as it was the only thing he had ever learned to do when something got awkward. Just be as aggressively, happily normal as possible. ‘You flatter me! My face will be so red from compliments like that.’

‘Your face is always red, Victor-san,’ Yuuri said, before whipping his head back to look Victor head on as he just seemed to realise what he said. For a moment, Victor was just that littlest bit offended to have his European complexion called out like that. But it went out quickly, laughter burning up in its stead.

‘Wow, Yuuri! That was cruel!’

‘I’m so sorry, Victor-san!’

‘It’s too late, Yuuri. Now it’s me who’ll have to forgive you!’

Forgiving Yuuri turned into a incredibly pleasant few hours of skating, even some ill-advised singles thrown in for the hell of it. Victor and Yuuri circled each other like planets, like they were dancing and Victor had never felt so electric in his life. Not in competition, not even in the discos back home or dripping in sweat of a solid workout. Nothing could compare to this, lazily skating with a gorgeous boy following after him.

After Yuuko finally called for them to finish up, Victor’s plan took a even more ambitious step forward when Yuuri accepted Victor’s offer to help him off the ice. Victor’s hand tingled from where it held Yuuri’s when Victor helped him off the ice and Victor wondered if someone’s hand would always feel like that if you loved them.

(Not that Victor loved Yuuri… yet, anyway. That would be completely insane. Right?)

When Victor and Yuuri bid farewell to Yuuko in the locker room, they were both surprised to see three girls from Yuuri’s class hanging around in the foyer of Ice Palace. Yuuri exchanged quick Japanese with them as they walked out, frowning to himself as the girls decided to follow both he and Victor out as well. Victor hunched his shoulders, disappointed. It would be considerably harder to get another chance to hold Yuuri’s hand with an audience.

‘I just don’t see why they have to follow you around,’ Victor grumbled miserably, tossing what he hoped was a very dirty look over in the girls’ direction from where they were walking on the parallel foothpath. When he looked back to Yuuri, Yuuri’s face was tilted in confusion. Victor shrugged. ‘Couldn’t they just leave notes in your locker, or something like that. This shadowing is terribly intrusive, don’t you think?’

Yuuri stopped, watching Victor very carefully. Victor watched back, suddenly self-conscious. Had his English been too much? Did Yuuri understand? Then Yuuri laughed, so brightly it caught Victor entirely by surprise. As he laughed, Victor’s stomach did that now all too familiar curl of narrowed pleasure and swooping happy.

‘What? What is it?’

‘Me! You think it’s me?’ Yuuri cried between giggles, raising a hand to try and stifle himself. Victor ran a hand through his hair, fingers getting caught about half way in the silver tangle. Yuuri shook his head, still snickering from behind his own hand. ‘Victor, I know your Japanese isn’t very good but this is really something! They’re not following me, stupid. They’re following you.’

Victor frowned, glancing over the small gaggle of girls again. He put his hands in his pockets, blowing a stray hair out of his face in confusion. ‘Why?’

‘Why?’ Yuuri repeated highly, eyes sparkling as he lowered his hand. Yuuri tugged it in close to his chest, looking remarkably sweet while he did so. Yuuri looked so determined, mouth set and Victor wondered if he’d ever recover from seeing such a handsome look on Yuuri’s face. ‘Because you’re beautiful, Victor! You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.’

There was a very nice, perfect moment then where Victor and Yuuri just stared at each and Victor felt like finally things were all coming together.

But then Yuuri blushed, like he always did and looked away quickly, promptly ending the electric connection Victor was quite sure was storming between them. He started walking, muttering about not wanting to keep Mari and lunch at the inn waiting for them. Victor couldn’t find it in him to be disappointed, as what had just happened was an unprecedented step forward for the overall plan in telling Yuuri he fancied him.

Yuuri thought Victor was beautiful. Wasn’t that something?

By Monday, Victor was hyper-aware that he only had six or so days left before the exchange was over and Victor may have missed his chance to tell Yuuri he kind of basically loved him.

Victor wasn’t entirely sure how that had happened, but well, no point looking for the exit now when the fire was so tempting. Victor was willing to burn for this, it was just a matter of figuring out how.

All throughout lunch on Monday, and the sneaking visits Victor made to Yuuri’s homeroom between classes to try and catch just an extra few minutes in Yuuri’s company, Victor found himself frightfully aware of the ticking clock to the whole thing. Had Yuuri always had that dark freckle under his left eye? What else had Victor missed? If only there was more time to learn everything there was to  know!

On this vein, Victor realised that in all their conversations, there was one thing Yuuri had promised to tell him that Victor had not actually heard yet. Feeling that to be a steady place to start the now promptly hastened plan along, Victor sought Yuuri out during one of the brief periods of rest between classes. He bolted from his classroom, waving Madam Okukawa off with an excuse of needing the bathroom and Victor headed straight down the hall to Yuuri’s homeroom.

Victor slid the door open, scanning the room quickly for Yuuri. Who… did not seem to be there.

‘Victor-san?’ Yuuko asked from where she was standing at the front of the class, holding a piece of paper. She walked over, scolding some of the boys who were sitting near the door for their hurried muttering as she passed them. ‘Are you well?’

‘I’m looking for Yuuri,’ Victor said, giving the room one more glance, just to be sure. As he said it, the class burst into a fit of giggles collectively. Victor had to hand it to them, the Japanese could find a laugh in anything. From across the room, Victor saw Takeshi grinning and calling out Buta-chan!

Like Victor was supposed to have the faintest idea what that meant.

‘Yuuri is doing some chores for Sensei right now,’ Yuuko said, scowling at Takeshi briefly before addressing Victor politely. ‘Ignore them. Go to room 3B on the next floor, if it’s an emergency. But if not you should wait until after school, Victor-san! Break is almost over!’

(Victor had no intention on waiting. There wasn’t time for that nonsense).

Thanking Yuuko, Victor headed straight towards the stairs and started making his way to find room 3B. The school was big, but easily laid out and Victor found his way quickly, beelining for the room once he spotted it’s sign down the third floor hallway from the stairs. Victor didn’t bother knocking, realising too late how that might’ve been rude, and slide the door open.

That boy with the two-toned dye job from before was the first person Victor saw, organising small piles of paper at the teacher’s desk. His brown eyes went wide upon seeing Victor, mouth opening and closing silently like some bizarre frog. Victor smiled kindly in return, offering a quick wave, before stepping into the room. The boy finally squeaked something then, something that did sound awfully like “boyfriend” but Victor didn’t want to get ahead of himself.

At the other end of the classroom, Yuuri hadn’t seemed to notice any of it with his back to Victor as he pulled down various ringbinders from the bookshelf that sat there. And well, that certainly wasn’t a bad view at all. Yuuri was up on his tip-toes, trying to fidget down a yellow binder. The jacket of his uniform was riding up, taking the shirt with it and showing off a strip of olive skin right along Yuuri’s lower back.

Victor let himself have a few seconds of simply enjoying that and absorbing it into his memory for- well, forever. Then, Victor took pity on his sweet Yuuri and walked up behind him, reaching up and taking the yellow binder with ease.

Yuuri froze beneath him. Like this, Victor’s front was pressed entirely to Yuuri’s back and it was warm, hard and quite possibly, the best feeling in the entire world. Bar none. Forget everything that had happened up to this point, as from here, on his own tip-toes, Victor could smell Yuuri’s shampoo. Victor’s own hair had fallen forward, Victor having not bothered tying it up. When Victor pulled back, taking the folder down with him, his silver hair poured down over Yuuri’s shoulder like ink.

‘Need help, Yuuri?’

‘Victor!’ Yuuri breathed, turning quickly and looking between Victor’s face and the folder from behind his glasses. ‘You shouldn’t sneak up on people, you could’ve scared me!’

Victor grinned, wondering if Yuuri noticed that he hadn’t used san. Victor had and his stomach had, celebrating with happy little flips. Again, Victor was not entirely sure if that was absolutely good, but it felt pretty damn good. Victor had to give it that. Going by the way Yuuri was now pouting, bottom lip stuck out in a manner that was definitely meant to imply Victor was about to scolded, Yuuri hadn’t noticed. Victor was certainly not sorry.

‘Ah, my Yuuri,’ Victor said, testing the waters. Yuuri blushed, but said nothing else. Victor handed the folder over as a peace offering. ‘I never want to scare you, promise.’

‘Hmph,’ was all Yuuri said to that. It was adorable. He took the folder from Victor, pout breaking into a smile despite himself it seemed and Yuuri walked past Victor towards the teacher’s desk and the other boy. ‘Why aren’t you in class?’

‘Found something better to do.’

‘Oh? Scaring me is better than class?’

‘Anything with you is better than class,’ Victor said truthfully, brushing a hand through his long hair as he followed Yuuri across the classroom. He smiled to the other boy, who was still looking at Victor with the kind of expression Victor usually saw in children when their parents told them Saint Nikolas wasn’t real. His smile faltered, but Victor held out his hand. ‘Victor Nikiforov.’

‘Oh, I know!’ the boy said, bowing quickly before taking Victor’s hand and shaking it. With impressive vigour. Victor cast a quick glance at Yuuri, who simply shrugged in response. ‘Minami Kenjirou! I’m in Katsuki-kun’s class.’

Yuuri smiled pleasantly at that, but he seemed far more interested in sorting the papers on the desk. Victor gave Kenjirou a once over and felt a pang of sympathy. Victor had gotten to know pretty well over the last two and half weeks what being in love with Katsuki Yuuri looked like. A very small, dark part of Victor huffed jealously at the idea of this guy fluttering around Yuuri like a canary, but Yuuri didn’t seem that interested.

Not that Victor could say he was as confident in knowing what interest from Katsuki Yuuri looked like, despite everything else.

‘That’s nice-’

‘It’s great!’ Kenjirou corrected quickly, bouncing up and down on his feet. ‘Did you know Yuuri came in first at last year’s nationals? And he’s third in class, too! That takes real dedication, to be so good at skating and be top five in the class, you know!’

Victor’s lacklustre response of uhhhh did not deter Kenjirou at all, who seemingly had been just waiting for the excuse to sing Yuuri’s praises. And while Victor was hardly one to tell someone off for that, Victor wasn’t as interested in the accolades Kenjirou spouted as he was in how Yuuri felt about those things himself. How Yuuri had said he was considering quitting school after this semester, so to take skating more seriously. That bright, fiery look in his eye as he said it. Victor remembered it so clearly and really wished he and Yuuri were alone.

As if reading his thoughts, Yuuri turned to Kenjirou and asked something in quiet Japanese. Kenjirou seemed only too happy to help, bidding Victor a quick farewell before he vanished out the door, sliding it shut behind him.

‘Well,’ Victor said once it was quiet. ‘He seems… nice.’

Yuuri snickered, before frowning to himself. ‘Stop. Don’t make me laugh, I’m trying to concentrate.’

‘But I have a question!’ Victor said happily as Yuuri arranged the last of the sheets from the yellow binders in respective piles. Yuuri nodded at Victor to show he was listening, but he walked past Victor again towards the bookshelf. Victor hounded after him. ‘ Yuuri~ Pay attention to me!’

‘I’m doing a job for Sensei, Victor. I promise I can listen to you while I do it,’ Yuuri replied gently, giving Victor an imploring look as he turned back to the bookshelf. Victor gave himself one brief moment to pout, before taking the initiative. Really, this whole trip had been a series of impulsive decisions but they tended to be working in Victor’s favour of late and Victor intended to ride that lucky streak all the way through to the finish line.

Victor waited for Yuuri to fish out the binder he needed before moving. As Yuuri moved from the bookshelf, facing Victor with his back to the wall, Victor took advantage of Yuuri’s brief distraction of reading the kanji label and stepped right into Yuuri’s space. Yuuri made a soft oh! noise from the intrusion, dark eyes looking up at Victor in surprise.

As Victor stepped forward, Yuuri stepped back, until his back was flush against the wall. Victor slapped a hand against the wall, right by Yuuri’s head, caging him in. Yuuri visibly trembled and that was probably one of the hottest things Victor had ever seen. It temporarily stunned him, Victor losing train of his thought process for a moment because Yuuri’s eyes had suddenly gone half-lidded, mouth slightly open.

‘Vi-Victor?’

‘I have a question,’ Victor said, getting his shit together at last. He didn’t mean to sound so breathless though. The binder in Yuuri’s hand was a brief barrier between them, the plastic bridging the incredibly small space between them. Victor shoved his free hand in his pocket before he did something stupid with it. Like grab Yuuri by the collar and-

‘A question?’ Yuuri repeated softly, at least sounding as affected as Victor was. Victor nodded, trying to stay focused.

‘You promised you would tell me which of my skates was your favourite,’ Victor said and Yuuri blushed instantly, confirming Victor’s suspicions that this was fertile territory. ‘A promise is a promise, Yuuri. So, tell me. Which one was your favourite?’

Yuuri looked slightly punchdrunk. Or maybe actually drunk. He certainly didn’t look any less dazed than Chris had last year at the Christmas disco after they’d both snuck more than their fair share of champagne from the reception. Victor found himself leaning forward without meaning to, closing that very small space between them. The folder was pressed tight between now.

‘They’re all beautiful,’ Yuuri replied, looking down bashfully. Victor smirked, teasing and maybe a little drunk himself on the fizzling energy that was buzzing between them.

‘But you have a favourite, right?’

Yuuri nodded, still not looking at Victor. Well, that simply wouldn’t do. The time for patience was well and truly over. Victor gave in, taking his hand from his pocket and reaching out for Yuuri’s face. He cupped Yuuri’s cheek, knees wobbling beneath him because wow that was a sodding cocky move and Victor couldn’t quite believe he’d done it, but Yuuri melted into the touch like chocolate.

He looked up at Victor, dark eyes brimming with something and Victor wondered how he could’ve watched so many movies, read so many books and watched so much bad television and not be prepared for the gravity of the emotion that was rocking through him just from having Yuuri look at him. They hovered for a moment, simply waiting it seemed. Enjoying the moment.

‘Eros,’ Yuuri whispered, face burning hot in Victor’s hand. Victor didn’t even have it in him to laugh in satisfaction of guessing right. All he could do was smile- large, dopey and a tad silly, probably. ‘When I saw that I thought- I think you’re amazing, Victor.’

‘Amazing?’ Victor asked, just to be certain. Yuuri pulled a face, that determined Yes, I’m damn sure face Victor had gotten to know in the last two weeks. Victor did laugh then, just happy and not entirely sure what to do with it.

‘Yeah,’ Yuui said, still breathless. ‘Amazing.’

Were they getting closer? Victor was leaning in again, this time Yuuri’s hands pressing against his chest with the binder and Yuuri was definitely moving, too, his head coming away from the wall to meet Victor halfway. Yuuri’s eyes fluttered closed, feathery lashes dark and Victor took a moment to burn this moment into his memory, too. Because… wow.

Victor had just closed his eyes, had just let himself sink into what was bound to be the most perfect kiss in the history of kisses when suddenly the classroom split open with a loud shriek.

Victor jumped from Yuuri like he had been burned and Yuuri yelped as well in surprise, dropping the binder with a clatter. He was blushing furiously, covering his face too quickly with his hands for Victor to get a good look at him. Victor looked over at the offending party, meeting the stunned, vacant expression of Minami Kenjirou.

Any and all sympathy for Kenjirou went the way of the Titanic with frightening speed and Victor wondered if he should give the American mannerisms a try and find a locker to shove the stupid boy into.

‘Ah, ah,’ Kenjirou stammered, looking wildly between Yuuri and Victor. He eventually settled with Yuuri, not looking too far from a rather unpleasant shade of heartbreak. ‘I’m so sorry, Katsuki-kun. But Morooka-sensei is looking for you and- and Nikiforov-kun as well.’

Oh. Great.

(Though, Victor had to concede, he had basically walked out of class halfway through the day and perhaps dragging Yuuri into it hadn’t been the best course of action. But really, in the name of true love, surely allowances could be made?)

(Madam Okukawa did not make allowances).

With all the extra work assigned to him since he wasn’t taking class seriously, Victor found his time for trying to woo Yuuri even more drastically reduced than before. They still texted, of course and Yuuri did even mention trying to convince his parents around to a night off helping out in the onsen, so he could spend it with Victor, but they were just too busy. As it was now, Victor had lunchtimes and that was it.

And lunchtimes, frankly, weren’t enough time!

The next two passed so fast, Victor felt like they had barely gotten started in their conversation before the bell would chime and they’d have to part again. And it was so hard to find the right time, the right way to get Yuuri to kiss him. Victor was beginning to lose all hope, as the flight on Saturday approached. By Thursday evening, he was practically in tears over it.

‘Why don’t you just kiss him?’ Chris asked, sympathetically passing Victor some of the cheap paper roll from the bathroom for his runny nose. Victor sniffled, wiping at his face.

‘It’s not that simple,’ Victor admitted, because it wasn’t. ‘It’ll be his first kiss, his first kiss ever, Chris! I want it to be special. And I want- I want him to want it to be me, you know?’

Chris raised an eyebrow, looking surprised. ‘You don’t think Yuuri likes you?’

‘I think he does,’ Victor said, fidgeting with the now damp and crumpled tissue. ‘But I don’t know for sure. And it’s killing me.’

Chris had hugged him them, telling Victor that it would all work out because love always did. Victor wasn’t sure he believed that, not at present anyway with the impending threat of said love going down in flames come tomorrow.

The last hour of classes on Friday had been dedicated to a small party for Victor and the exchange class in the Japanese homeroom. There were small cakes and sweets, bottles of fizzy drinks with cheap plastic cups. Someone even had some music playing and generally, everyone seemed to be in a very good mood when Victor and the rest of his class walked in, Madam Okukawa following in behind.

Chris and the others went over to their exchange students right away, swapping handy Japanese and English between them. Victor waved at Yuuko at where she was designating orders to two other girls, but instead made his way straight to Yuuri, who was at his desk by the window.

‘Hey,’ Victor said, leaning a hip against Yuuri’s desk. Yuuri smiled, but not the big smile Victor was used to seeing by now. It was a small, sad thing and Victor immediately felt the same.

‘Hi,’ Yuuri replied softly, getting up and out of his seat. He stepped around so he and Victor were face to face. With Victor leaning on the desk, they were almost matched now. Victor found he liked it and wondered if Yuuri would grow any taller. Felt a miserable cold wash of disappointment at remembering he wouldn’t be able to see it.

‘I don’t want to go,’ Victor admitted, because it was the only thing on his mind. Yuuri’s face did an odd thing then, like he couldn’t decide whether he wanted to laugh or cry. Or maybe Victor was projecting.

‘I don’t want you to go either,’ Yuuri said quietly, taking a small step back so he was leaning against the next desk. Victor frowned, not at all liking this distance and stood up, chasing that last step forward. Now they were back to normal, Yuuri looking up at Victor with his doe eyes. ‘I’m used to having you around. I’m going to miss you so much, Victor.’

‘I promise I’ll miss you more,’ Victor sighed deeply, moving to run a hand through his hair before stopping himself in case he disrupted his high ponytail. Victor reached out to Yuuri instead, because fuck it, he was going home tomorrow anyway. He linked his fingers with Yuuri, surprised when Yuuri responded in kind so they were proper holding hands. Like boyfriends.

Victor’s heart ached. It ached.

‘I’ll text you every day,’ Victor promised, gripping Yuuri’s hand tightly. Yuuri squeezed back, smiling. ‘And call you, if you let me. I’d like to hear your voice. Every day, maybe forever.’

And oh, Christ. That was a bit much, wasn’t it?

Yuuri’s eyes were quite round, but there was nothing but kindness there as he blinked slowly, absorbing the words. Yuuri looked down at their clasped hands, holding on as tightly as Victor was. ‘I’d like that. I want to talk to you every day, too.’

The party moved around them, Yuuko and Takeshi coming over briefly to thank Victor for his stay and to wish a safe journey home. He saw them glancing down to where he was still holding Yuuri’s hand, but no one said anything, the only thing giving the game away how pink Yuuri was under his glasses. Everyone seemed like they were having fun, but Victor couldn’t help but keep glancing up at the clock. Yuuri squeezed his hand every time he did.

‘Oh, for Christ’s sake!’ Chris exclaimed after about half an hour, stunning half the class into silence. Victor looked over, confused as Chris made his way across the room with a set look on his face.

‘I’m calling time on this,’ Chris said, rolling his eyes and shoving Victor with one firm push. Victor barrelled forward, balance undone and straight into Yuuri, head on. They both stumbled from the force, Victor managing to get his arms around Yuuri’s waist, pressing the soft of Yuuri’s tummy to Victor’s own in an effort to keep them upright. Yuuri stared up at him, eyes wide and lips parted with something half-said.

‘Yuuri,’ Chris said, sounding remarkably serious for someone who had nearly concussed his friend. Yuuri looked over Victor’s shoulder. ‘Victor wants to kiss you-’ Chris! Victor hissed, but to no avail as Yuuri was looking right back at him, clearly surprised. ‘-Has wanted to since before he even knew you. So put the poor fucker out of his misery will you and tell him if he can or not!’

Victor closed his eyes, feeling like the whole world around him had suddenly collapsed.

It was silent for a very, very long time. The entire homeroom seemed to have been stunned even past their own capacity for nervous giggling. When Victor opened his eyes, Yuuri looked… uncomfortable. Forget before, this was when Victor’s world really collapsed because oh god, had he gotten it wrong somehow?

Victor gently disentangled himself from Yuuri, hyper aware of the way everyone was staring. The way Yuuri was staring, fretful and slackjacked like someone had slapped him. Victor struggled to find something to say, tempted to round on Chris but ultimately, not having the heart in him to do it. Instead, Victor just shrugged, holding his hands up to Yuuri in surrender.

‘I… I think I’m going to get some air,’ Victor said finally, thinking as he was saying it that yeah, that probably wasn’t a bad idea. Chris and Yuuko called after him as Victor left the classroom. Yuuri didn’t and Victor tried not to let that get to him.

But it did. It really did, because how could Victor have been so stupid?

Victor must’ve just built it all up in his head. Yuuri was just a tactile person, an easy friend it would seem. Victor had just been misinterpreting, all this time and Victor was trying very hard not to cry as he walked down the hall, wondering if he just all out ran for it if anyone would dare come look for him. Victor did not want anyone coming after him. Well, he didn’t want anyone who wasn’t-

‘Victor!’

Victor stopped, the soft soles of his uwabaki easy for him to do a small pirouette in on one foot. Victor spun around, ponytail flaring out like flag around him as he saw Yuuri running down the hall after him. Victor opened his mouth, about to explain everything, but Yuuri did not slow down. Yuuri kept running, throwing his arms out in front of him and wrapping them around Victor’s neck as Yuuri kissed him.

Victor did the only thing he could think of; he caught Yuuri. His arms were a tight ring around Yuuri’s waist and the momentum of the kiss had them spinning in place, Yuuri’s feet coming off the floor as Victor held him.

At first, it was just their lips pressed together and Yuuri’s weight against Victor. And Victor was wrong, he was so so wrong all those times before because this was the best feeling in the world. Yuuri was kissing him, had raced down the hall in his deathtrap slippers just so he could kiss him and Victor’s head was spinning so fast he was afraid he’d never catch up to reality again.

Once they were steadied, Yuuri pulled back. Just for a moment, just for him and Victor to see each other. And whatever Yuuri saw, he evidently liked, as the only warning Victor got was a another wonderful, soft oh before Yuuri surged up again and kissed Victor once more. He pressed his lips hard against Victor’s, a very, very small noise trembling in the back of his throat that had Victor come crashing right back into himself.

Victor splayed his hands wide on Yuuri’s sides, touching all of him and every inch of him Victor could. Yuuri’s mouth parted and wow- wow. There was the sugary taste of the soft drink, the heat of Yuuri’s breath and Victor couldn’t breathe, may never want to breathe again because this was the best thing ever. Victor moved to deepen the kiss, not exactly having the most experience if he was being honest, but Victor was riding the roiling, thorny wave of pleasure that was washing through him to the very end.

Yuuri made a terrible, amazing, needy noise as Victor took one of his lips between his teeth before pressing in again hungrily because Chris was right, asshole that he was. Victor had wanted to do this from the very beginning and now that he was doing it, Victor may not be able to stop.

Yuuri’s hands moved from where they were holding Victor around his neck to up and into Victor’s hair, completely tugging the ponytail undone. But Victor didn’t care because Yuuri’s hands were strong, warm and holding Victor to him so Yuuri could kiss him, again and again with increasing lack of finesse.

Victor didn’t know what he was doing, any careful previous planning of this kiss going completely by the wayside in the wake of the reality. Yuuri was hot, liquid, perfect person in Victor’s arms; melting everywhere Victor pressed and holding on so tight, it almost hurt. Victor traced every part of Yuuri’s waist, his back, drowning in the heat that burst deep down low in his gut from the feeling of Yuuri’s tongue slipping against his own. It was everything Victor had never been sure he wanted in a kiss, but now, Victor couldn’t imagine any kind of life where Yuuri wasn’t kissing him like this. Forever.

Eventually, they had to part, dizziness swimming around them. Victor didn’t loosen his grip, half-afraid that if he let Yuuri go, he’d vanish completely and Victor would be left bereft. Yuuri’s hands fell from Victor’s hair, looping back around Victor’s neck and holding them close. Victor took some steadying breaths, listening to Yuuri do the same and felt the rise and fall of Yuuri’s chest against his own. Victor couldn’t open his eyes, not yet. He was too- too something.

‘I’ve wanted to do that forever,’ Yuuri sighed, the words a warm breath against Victor’s mouth. Victor did open his eyes then, heart screaming happy with the sight before him. Of Yuuri’s glasses, crooked on his nose from where the kiss had dislodged them. His lips bitten red, eyes simmering like a flame. Victor grinned, kissing Yuuri’s nose. Because he could.

‘And you made me wait this long?’ Victor asked, not sure if he should be amused or heartbroken by all the time they’ve missed.

‘I’m sorry, Victor,’ Yuuri said and he did sound sorry, which helped. Victor kissed him again, lips tingling from the pressure. The love. ‘I didn’t- Kiss. ‘- know-’ Kiss. ‘- if it-’ Kiss. ‘-would be alright.’

Victor stopped kissing him then, but only because he had started laughing. Yuuri pouted up at him, either unimpressed with the sudden lack of kissing or the laughter. Possibly both. ‘I thought I was being so obvious.’

‘Obvious would be asking Yuuri, can I kiss you?’ Yuuri said with an adorable moue to his mouth. ‘I was waiting, too, you know.’

‘Then we’ll have to make it up to each other,’ Victor grinned, tightening his hold so he could lift Yuuri up. Yuuri squealed, surprised but it melted down into a laugh. That laugh poured down Victor’s spine in a slow, sweet drag. Like honey, all the way down. Victor turned on the spot, spinning Yuuri around slowly. ‘And just get as many kisses in as we can before tomorrow.’

‘And after tomorrow?’ Yuuri asked, smiling but his eyes looked worried. Victor let him slide through his arms, feet landing on the ground softly so Yuuri had to look up again. Victor took Yuuri’s face in his hands, thumbs framing the cheeks. He’d seen it in movies and had always wanted someone to do it with. Victor smiled.

‘We call. We text. I come back and you kiss me for every day we’ve missed. Sound good?’

Yuuri nodded, giggling softly as Victor leaned in to kiss him again. Victor wanted to get the practice in quick, before the rest of their lives started tomorrow. And when Victor came back, (and he would come back), Victor would be ready to start all over again. After all, this was only their first kiss.