Chapter Text
“Phichit!”
“Yuuri!”
The two former roommates ran at each other in the airport, sneakers squeaking on the tiles and Victor couldn’t help but think it was similar to how lovers ran to each other in those sappy romantic comedies that he had recently learned that he loved. A few other travelers grumbled, steering their bags clear of the hugging men as Victor reached them. A gloved hand rested atop two heads of black hair before two sets of dark eyes looked up at him, one behind glasses and the other cat-lined. It wasn’t often that he felt much taller than Yuuri, but with the two others bent over one another in a hug he felt like a near giant.
“Victor!” Phichit was delighted, breaking free of Yuuri to throw his arms around Victor as well. Truthfully, Victor hadn’t been expecting a hug. He and Phichit were friends by association, he hadn’t spent much time with the Thai man without Yuuri. So the hug was a nice surprise.
“Hello, Phichit!” Victor’s previous thought, the idea that they should head to the luggage claim, was forgotten in his own excitement as he matched the younger’s energy. “We’re excited you’re here!”
Phichit had looped an arm through each of the happy couple’s, his carry-on backpack bouncing as Yuuri steered them all towards the baggage claim. They chittered happily, Phichit going on about the man on his flight that sat next to him. “He had sleep apnea or something ! He would randomly stop breathing and I had to slap him on the chest to make sure he was alive like five times. I don’t think I slept a wink.”
“You must be pretty tired then.” Victor observed, neatly swerving out of the way of a mother with a stroller.
“Of course I’m not. I’m in Russia for the first time as a tourist! I have so much to see!”
Victor lit up. “And we have so much to show you, don’t we Yuuri!”
Yuuri hummed in agreement, half listening but mostly focused on scanning the airport signs for directions. He could sense danger. There was a reason he hadn’t left Victor and Phichit alone and that was because of the pure amount of chaos they would be sure to cause without proper supervision. Already they were feeding off one another’s energies, both of them pretty much dragging him in the wrong direction until he corrected them with a nudge.
“Hey Yuuri.” The tone of Phichit’s voice had sent a chill through Yuuri. He knew that tone. And he knew that nothing good would follow. “Do you remember the mimosa guy?”
“Phi..” Yuuri started as a warning, but Victor was already wide eyed and encouraging the story to be told.
▲▽▲
Detroit Airport, 2014
“They just delayed my fight again.” Yuuri groaned into his phone, stopping at one of those weird airport restaurants that were essentially a row of seats and a bar in the middle of the hallway. A grand piano was positioned next to it, though at 8am they didn’t have anyone playing. The bartender seemed to have just arrived and Yuuri slid into a corner seat, offering the man a shy smile before turning his back to the bar to watch the other travelers. “If I had known it would get pushed back 3 times I would have come this morning and not the middle of the night last night.” The irritation seeped into his voice as he glared at the tiny Phichit on his screen. It wasn’t his roommate’s fault, but he needed someone to bitch to.
“Hey, it’s not that bad!” Phichit reasoned, which for him, it wasn’t. He was currently snuggled up in bed after having dropped Yuuri off around 2am. The night had worked out perfectly for him. He got home, napped for a couple hours and then managed to write half of the paper he’d been putting off before he texted Yuuri to see if he had wifi on the flight. The resulting facetime instantly alerted him to a problem. “Look! There’s a bar behind you. Get a drink, have some breakfast.”
“A drink? At 8am?”
“You’ve been awake since before two this morning, it’s basically noon.” Phichit smirked into his duvet. “And there’s that song. You know the one by that American guy. It’s twelve o’clock somewhere…”
“I’m hanging up before your bad influence starts showing.”
“Get a mimosa.”
“I’m not getting a mimosa.” Yuuri hissed.
“They’re a breakfast drink. Hey! Bartender. Hook my friend up with a mim-”
Yuuri ended the call as the bartender looked over at him with a quirked brow. Yuuri cleared his throat. “Can I have a menu please?”
“Sure thing. Do you want that mimosa that your friend was advising? I don’t mean to brag but I make a pretty good one.”
Yuuri opened his mouth to refuse, then considered it. He had been stuck in the airport for hours, his nerves were frayed and maybe a drink would help. “Uh, sure. Just one. Thanks.” He turned back to the menu and silently cursed himself for sitting down at what was potentially the most bougie place in the damn airport. The piano should have tipped him off. There was only small appetizers, meat and cheese boards or other things that he honestly couldn’t decipher and didn’t want to embarrass himself by asking. “I’ll have uh- the traveler’s appetizer plate too, please.”
“Sure thing.” The bartender placed a champagne flute in front of Yuuri, the drink orange and garnished with a fresh strawberry. Yuuri, despite his attempts to not look like a basic bitch, raised his phone and snapped a pic before sending it to Phichit.
>> To Phi 🍑: [image of mimosa]
>> To Phi 🍑: happy?
<< To Yuuri 🐩: chug it.
Yuuri didn’t grace his roommate with another response, though he did eye the drink for a moment and consider it. Instead he took a small sip and licked his lips, the champagne and orange juice combination was refreshing - exactly what he needed. He sat there alone for some time, the bartender would occasionally comment on something on the tv and Yuuri would agree but they mostly seemed content to keep to themselves.
“Need a refill?” A man had slid into the seat to Yuuri’s right so quietly that his voice startled the skater.
“Uh, um - what?” Yuuri blinked behind his glasses, sure he looked like a deer in the headlights.
The man seemed to be giddy with excitement, bubbling over into a wide grin. “I’ve been travelling for work for a month, I have one more flight then I get to see my wife and kids. I’m celebrating. Hey, excuse me,” he called to the bartender, who Yuuri realized was named Ted, “can we get two of whatever he was drinking?”
“Oh, I’m not really drink-” Yuuri started, but stopped. He still had some prosciutto left and a drink would probably be for the best, it was salty. “Thank you.”
“My wife kept the kids out of school today so they could all pick me up from the airport.” His barmate was already showing Yuuri pictures of his family on his phone, His family was adorable, two daughters and a young son who was being held up by his pretty blonde mother and Yuuri nodded. “They don’t know it’s me, she told them it’s a teacher meeting day. We’re going to take them to an amusement park.”
“That’s nice,” Yuuri offered. He wasn’t great at conversing with strangers, but this guy was doing most of the talking so all Yuuri had to do was nod and keep looking at the pictures.
“I’m Mark, by the way.”
“Yuuri.”
“Nice to meet you, Yuuri. And thanks for celebrating with me. It’s always better to have a drink with someone else, don’t you agree?”
One more mimosa each turned into two, then three and Yuuri felt his tongue loosen up. “I don’t have any kids, but this is my dog.” He pulled his own phone out, a picture of Vicchan up on the screen and Mark made a delighted noise. “How cute! My kids have been asking for a dog, but with me traveling so much and my wife at home with the three of them, it just doesn’t make sense to add anything else to her plate.”
“Yeah, that’s the responsible thing to do. Maybe you’ll be able to get one soon, if you stop traveling for work.” Yuuri shrugged, texting Phichit once more.
>> To Phi 🍑 : [image of four empty mimosa glasses, strawberry leaves in the bottom of each]
<< To Yuuri 🐩: yuuri!!
<< To Yuuri 🐩: you animal
<< To Yuuri 🐩: dude that has to cost a fortune you’re in the AIRPORT
<< To Yuuri 🐩: don’t get too drunk and miss your flight
<< To Yuuri 🐩: yuuri!!!!!!!111!!!!!
“One more?” Mark gestured at Ted, who whipped up the drinks in record time. The bill was placed down at the same time as the last drink, Mark signed it without even glancing at the total as he tossed down a forty dollar tip. He must have a really good job. “Yuuri, where are you headed?”
“A competition.”
“Oh? Are you competing or watching?”
“I’m a competitive figure skater.”
“Oh wow! One of my daughters loves figure skating, here, sign this!” Mark pulled a notepad from his laptop bag, pushing it across the bar. If Yuuri hadn’t been four mimosas deep, the thought of someone getting his autograph and not recognizing it would have sent him into a spiral. Instead he shrugged and scrawled his name as well as printed it in english and hiragana. “Someday when you’re famous we’ll watch your competition and I can tell my kids I got drunk with you in an airport.” Mark clapped Yuuri on the back and laughed, the both of them pink cheeked and jolly.
“Yeah, yeah. Someday.” Yuuri agreed, some small part of his mind surprised at the ease with which he assumed he’d be famous.
The overhead speakers sounded and the flight times on the board to their right flickered, Mark listening closely. “Ah, the flight to Buffalo! That’s me.” He stood and with impressive skill and speed, downed the rest of his drink. “Yuuri, it was a pleasure. Thanks for keeping me company. Safe travels and good luck!”
“Uh, yeah you too! Have fun in the amusement park.” Yuuri called after him before turning back to his final drink. Ted was watching him and Yuuri resisted the urge to roll his eyes. It didn’t matter if he was drunk. He wasn’t driving the damn plane.
He glanced at his phone, there was no alert for his flight yet so he had a little more time. He had just bitten into the strawberry, decidedly going to enjoy this last drink instead of chugging it like Mark had, when his phone flashed and he felt his stomach sink. “Hey, uh, Ted,” Yuuri cleared his throat. “My flight got changed, where is Gate B?”
Ted seemed to feel for him, brows knitting as he pointed to the other side of the airport. “Somewhere down there. I only work here so I don’t really know the layout that well. It might even be in another building, there is one that is connected by shuttle.”
“Fuck.” Yuuri jumped to his feet, took a step, then knocked back the three quarters of drink that was left. “Thanks!”
He took off running, cursing whoever decided to make his flight board in 15 minutes after changing it to the other side of the flipping place. He reached an escalator, trying to blink the double vision away. Five mimosas was not his friend right now. He called up Phichit, huffing into the phone.
“Phi-”
“Why are you breathing so heavy? Are you getting fucked in the airport bathroom? Yuuri that’s so dirty!!”
“What? No! I’m running. My flight got changed. I can’t find the gate. Help me.”
“What? Yuuri. Oh my-,” Phichit’s words broke off in a string of unintelligible Thai. Yuuri could faintly hear him adjusting then the telltale click of laptop keys. “Where are you?”
“Uhh, by Gate..”
“Any time now.”
“Gate G.”
“Okay, great.” Phichit clicked a little more, silently thanking modern technology for the ability to pull up an airport map like it was a mall. “Keep going straight then at the end of this hallway get on the escalator and go… up!”
“Got it.” Yuuri panted into the phone, rushed apologies to those he brushed up against in the terminal. He was luckily light enough on his feet to dodge anything other than light shoulder brushes with others. “Then what?” He had paused on the escalator, stuck behind a mother and her small daughter, who he was sure would not appreciate being bowled over.
“Alright, in the middle of this hallway there is a shuttle, get on it. It’ll bring you to Gate A. Then once you’re there just go straight. At the end of that hallway is Gate B and you’ll have to go left or right depending on your gate number. What’s the number?”
“23.” Yuuri just barely managed to slip into the shuttle, his bag knocking against a cat carrier and causing it’s inhabitant to hiss loudly. The sound startled him, his hand splaying against the wall behind him as he jumped back. His vision was swimming, fucking Mark. Being all happy to see his kids and shit. This was ridiculous.
“It’s the last one on the right.” Phichit was stifling giggles now and Yuuri nearly growled into the phone. It was not funny. He didn’t mean to have five drinks. They just… went down so easy. He had a hard time finding his feet on the shuttle, wedging himself between the end of the seats and the door, hand gripping the rail as he made sure his bag was secure behind his knees.
“This shuttle is taking forever.” Yuuri groaned.
Phichit laughed then, earning a reluctant grin from the older. “I feel like you’re a spy and I’m the guy that tells you were to go to avoid the enemies.”
“That’s the most boring spy movie ever.” Yuuri deadpanned, jigging in place when the doors opened. Another mother and a child. Why were there so many kids in his way today? He swerved around them, darting to the end of the hallway and skidding to a stop in front of his gate, hands on his knees as he gulped down air.
“We are now boarding for Flight 432 out of Detroit.” The announcement rang out right over his head as he caught his breath, the pit of anxiety in his stomach uncoiling as he got in line.
“Fu-,” he gulped down a little more air. “I made it. Thanks. Phichit. I owe you one.”
“I’ll add it to your list of IOUs.” Phichit assured him as Yuuri hung up with a quick goodbye, managing to board the flight and find his seat without issue.
When the plane touched down, he sent Phichit a single text.
>> To Phi 🍑: no more mimosas.
▲▽▲
“Yuuri says he passed out on the flight as soon as he sat down. I guess the lady sitting next to him put his seatbelt on for him because she didn’t want him to get in trouble.” Phichit told Victor with a giggle as he pulled his luggage off the conveyor. “But he made it in one piece thanks to me being an amazing guide.”
“You’re ignoring that it was your fault to begin with because the bartender heard you screaming about mimosas.” Yuuri was flushed pink and despite how funny the situation was now, it had been terrifying at the time. He couldn’t help but laugh along at his friends overeager storytelling or smile at his fiancé's amusement. The group made their way to the parking lot, still chuckling softly.
“Oh, Yuuri. That’s so adorable.” Victor cooed, lips finding their way to Yuuri’s cheek before they all clambered into the car and Victor started out of the parking lot.
“I woke up when the plane landed smelling like oranges and regret.” Yuuri couldn’t help the slight downturn of his lips as Victor laughed again. Victor’s reaction had graciously fed into Phichit’s story time and Yuuri knew he was in trouble. Phichit had far worse stories than mimosa guy.