Chapter Text
"Yuuri! The order is in the window please take it to the table." The head chef yelled from the busy kitchen. Yuuri's nerves began acting up again as he took the tray of food and gripped it tightly.
Today had probably been the worst day for this to happen. Not only was he nervous about his upcoming ballet lesson with Minako but now he had a food critic to worry about.
Victor Nikiforov, one of the most famous food critics in the entire restaurant industry, was sitting in the dining room waiting silently for his order to arrive. An order that Yuuri was currently holding in his hands.
He had done this thousands of times, it's his job after all, but it seemed a lot more difficult than it usually was. Yuuri was overthinking every small detail trying to make everything go perfectly, watching the ground as he walked to make sure he didn't step on or near anything that might have made him fall. It was going perfectly. Nothing spilled, everything was smooth sailing.
Until he glanced up to greet Mr Nikiforov with a smile and something hit his back from behind which made him lose his footing. Yuuri's ankle rolled and the bowl flew forward. The entire restaurant watched in horror as the soup of the pork cutlet bowl splashed all over the shoes of Mr Victor Nikiforov. Yuuri stared at the bowl in astonishment and his mind went numb.
Did he really just spill food over one of the most important people he will ever meet in his life? Yes he did. And it made him want to find a hole in the ground and just crawl into it and stay there for the rest of his life.
Once the reality of the situation finally settled in his head he began apologising profusely, a small stutter coming out a little as he offered to pay for the shoes. He don't know if they would be ruined by something like this. They looked expensive though. The stress of the whole ordeal combined with the embarrassment of fucking up one of the simplest tasks in the world caused tears to fill his eyes and spill over the edges.
Yuuri's boss had rushed over and began sending scathing remarks his was as they picked up the tray of spilt food off the floor.
Mr Nikiforov jumped up to his feet and put a hand on Yuuri's shoulder which made him flinch slightly.
"It's okay," Victor whispered as he helped Yuuri back to his feet, "it's just some food." Victor's voice was drowning out the malicious comments of his boss, which Yuuri was thankful for.
All he could do for a good while was shake his head and sniffle away his tears as his breathing began to get heavier and his mind began jumping all over the place, telling him over and over how he had fucked up. Badly. His shoulders began to shake as he kept his eyes on his shoes and continued apologising to Victor furiously.
"Look at me," Victor told him, placing a firm hand on Yuuri's warm cheek, "it's just food. Breathe." He commanded and Yuuri nodded closing his eyes and slowly breathing in and out shakily.
After a few seconds his breathing was back to normal and his eyes fluttered open to stare directly into the ice blue eyes of Victor Nikiforov. Victor smiled and let go of Yuuri's cheek but he immediately began to miss how warm Yuuri's face was under his hand.
"I'm sorry," Yuuri apologised as he tried his best to hold Victor's stare, "I can pay you for any damage." Yuuri wasn't sure if there was any damage done to Victor's shoes, and if there was he wasn't sure that he would be able to pay for it. But he knew it was the right thing to do regardless.
"Don't be silly!" Victor laughed as he patted Yuuri on the back. "There's no damage done, see?" He said, pointing to his shoes. Barely a mark on them.
"I'll tell the chief to make you a new one." Yuuri offered nervously and turned in the direction of the kitchen.
"No, I don't want to eat here anymore." He turned towards Yuri's boss with a scowl. "The superiors seem to have very little respect for their employees. I will not be funding such behaviour." Yuuri's boss looked at Victor dumbfounded, but they didn't dare question him.
"But your food..." Yuuri said, unsure of what he was actually trying to say.
"How about this," Victor offered Yuuri with a smile, "since you owe me a pork cutlet bowl, why don't you take me out for dinner some time? " He held out a little business card with a phone number printed in little silver scrawling font and Yuuri stared at the card nervously.
Yuuri had no response. What should he do?
"I won't take no as an answer." Victor stated, pushing the card into Yuuri's hand. "I'm sure you can think of somewhere." He winked and then turned around and left the restaurant. Ignoring Yuuri's boss who was rushing after him, begging him to stay.
Yuuri's mind was a flurry of emotions as he tried to figure out what had actually happened. First he had spilt food all over Victor's shoes, which was probably the single most embarrassing thing to happen to him ever, and then he nearly started crying in front of said man who proceeded to help him calm down and then the man had asked him on a date.
Would it be a date? Yuuri didn't know and honestly he was to nervous and confused to ask.
He stared at the silver letters of Victors name that shined on the card. What was that man thinking? Was he thinking?
There were so many questions that Yuri had no answers to. All Yuuri knew was that he himself was thinking that Victor had just asked him out for dinner. He was probably overthinking to be honest. He should ask someone. Minako would know what was going on. He would ask her. After he finished his shift.