Archive of Our Own

It was not a cute little chime atop the doorway, but a loud clap of thunder that announced his arrival in the deserted-looking library. Yuuri sneezed and then immediately covered his mouth. It had been loud, it had been way too loud! He was in a library for gods’ sake, drenched from head to toe, making a ruckus like a heathen a nd to make matters worse, he still hadn’t found the book he needed and this was the very last library that he knew of. His day really couldn’t have been going any worse.

“Bless you.” 

The voice was thick with an accent. Yuuri looked up, eyes wide, and followed it to the most beautiful man he had ever seen because apparently, the universe wasn’t done fucking with him yet. Of course. 

Of fucking course.  

The man, with his cartoonishly sparkly blue eyes, was grinning as if he was amused by Yuuri, which was only slightly better than ‘angered’ really, given how erratically loud Yuuri’s own heart was beating. He would have liked to make a somewhat nicer impression than ‘funny’ but here they were. There was water dripping down his bangs and he would ruin the library floor if he walked in like that but hey, at least the soft bridge of his nose was keeping the glasses from sliding off his slick skin. Small blessings.

He wanted to run away. He wasn’t running away. He was frozen. He wasn’t saying anything either and now pretty boy was starting to look awkward. 

“Bless you, too.” 

The man blinked. He glanced from side to side. 

“Thank you?” 

Yuuri was seconds away from bursting into tears. 

The stack of books in pretty man’s arms wobbled for a second and it reminded Yuuri of what he was here for. He cleared his throat and began furiously stomping his way inside. 

“Um-… sir! I am so sorry about this but can you take off your coat first?” Yuuri whipped around to face the embarrassed face of the pretty guy, who seemed to be following behind him, because fuck whatever he needed to do with this mountain of books, right?

“You will trail water everywhere otherwise.” 

“Yes! Oh my god, I am so sorry!” Yuuri scrambled to take the coat off himself, sprayed the pretty man with errant water droplets and then stepped back so rapidly he nearly tripped over and fell. Pretty man jerked forward again as if to reach for Yuuri but his pile of books began swaying violently and he stopped himself in his tracks to steady his books instead. 

“Of course, I will,” Yuuri cleared his throat. “Go hang it up right now.” 

With a burning face and a faint shiver starting to set in his bones, he sulked on over to the coat rack. It really was a premature claim, when he entered the library and thought his day couldn’t go any worse. Someone up there had taken it for the challenge Yuuri never meant for it to be. 

…

Victor was losing his mind, plain and simple. His soulmate had just walked in, soaking wet and blushing red. His heart rate was out of control, his smile was wobbly and wide as he watched the cute guy shrug out of his coat and hang it up. He looked like a scared little mouse, shoulders hunched up to his ears and gaze flitting about in nervousness. Drenched bangs stuck to his forehead and he pushed them away, accidentally knocking his glasses askew. Victor smiled. Cute guy turned around, caught sight of him, and jumped before scampering away to disappear behind the first row of shelves to his left. His pants probably weren’t supposed to be as figure hugging as the rain had made them but he had some thighs on him.

Eager to go back to him, Victor rushed to return the stack of books in his arms to the librarian’s desk, where he had just picked them up from. Mila, busy wiping down the newspaper stand right next to his desk looked up at him, an eyebrow cocked and mouth already lapsing into an ‘oh-you’re-upto-no-good-are-you?’ grin that everyone who knew Victor always seemed to get at any given moment because they just had zero faith in him and his upstanding citizen of the nation status for some godforsaken reason. 

“Didn’t you take them away to stack them back like a second ago?” 

“My soulmate has arrived,” Victor whisper-cried at her, his whole shoulder occupied in trying to balance the top seven or so books attempting to fall to their demise because he had less placed them down and more tossed them away. “Come help me!” 

Mila scoffed. 

“Fuck no.” 

Victor would have glared at her for this blatant insubordination but he was about ninety-nine percent sure that helping her boss woo a cute customer wasn’t in her job description. He had written the damn contract, he ought to know. 

Somehow, he managed to steady the pile. He swung himself over the top of his desk, in what would have been a very cool manoeuver if he had had an audience younger than the elderly man looking in through Victor’s beautiful, tinted French windows. He threw Victor a glare, his brows quivering atop his hateful eyes. Victor just returned to him a picture-perfect, customer-service smile and then pounced on his bag to grab ahold of the mirror he always kept inside. 

He had to make sure his hair was lying nicely for cute guy. Humidity always made it fluffy, curling at the ends- but not in the romantic, effortless, natural way, more in the someone-forgot-to-shower way. Victor cursed when he realised that was exactly what was happening today and knowing the fluff to be a lost cause, he refreshed his lip balm, undid the top button of his shirt and put on his dignified, gold-frame glasses instead. 

“You look fifty in those, like your hair doesn’t come from a bottle but from too many goddamn years on this planet.” 

Victor refused to look at the awful, awful cousin of his. 

“My hair comes from neither of those but superior genes to you and everyone else and my glasses are elegant. You’d know if you had taste.” 

Mila whistled. She had abandoned her post by the newspaper stand and was now leaning on his desk, not even pretending to work anymore. 

“Ironic that you have the audacity to call me tasteless when you date men. Willingly.”

Victor rolled his eyes and turned away. At least this time he didn’t catapult himself over the desk, even if he did look a little funny dashing across the library like that, a hand on his bangs in a last ditch effort to get them to lay smooth. 

The library was huge and he wondered where the boy could be. He looked pretty smart and he was carrying a backpack. A student of some kind, probably science. Victor decided to go check the study guides section first and the only thing louder than his rushed footfall in the silent hall was his frantically beating heart because who cares that he was twenty-five and now officially too old for this shit?! He couldn’t really blame himself here. 

Cute guy was just so cute.

… and a student he was, too just as Victor had predicted, hugging a book to his chest with his eyes closed, looking ready to drop down to his knees in prayer while standing in front of a shelf overflowing with science related books so thick they reinforced Victor’s life-long bias against anybody who willingly studied the subjects. Except for the cute guy, of course. 

Victor rested a hand on the shelf above their heads and placed himself in a casual, leaning-close-but-casually position. 

“Were you having trouble finding that one?” 

Cute guy jumped at his voice and clutched the book tighter to his chest, something about statistics or dynamics or something. Victor pasted on his most seductive smile and hoped to God he wouldn’t notice what a mess his hair looked like. 

“U-um yeah. It was- it was just nowhere to be found,” the boy gave a nervous laugh. He wouldn’t look Victor in the eye though which was a damn shame. “I would have been screwed if I couldn’t find it today.” 

“Last minute submission?” 

… and maybe it wasn’t strictly necessary that he lean forward so much when he said that, or make his voice drop just so because really, there was nothing sexy about college but something told Victor he needed to lay it on thick for this one and his gut had never before failed him, as it stood. 

He watched cute guy’s face get red and significantly cuter. Good, this meant he was getting the hint, right? 

“So, what’s your name?”

“Yuuri Katsuki.” 

Victor felt himself melting. His name was just as sweet as his plump, small lips and chubby, blushy cheeks. He wanted to squish Yuuri up in his arms and never let him go.

“That’s a really nice name. What does it mean?” 

Yuuri blinked, seemingly so startled by the question that he forgot his shyness and actually looked up at Victor. 

“A lot of things, actually,” he shrugged. “It depends on the characters you use for it. Mine is supposed to stand for ‘courage’.” 

“That’s so interesting! I thought it would have a cuter meaning. What about Katsuki?” 

It couldn’t be helped. Victor was going to work the name into a pick up line but his interest had been piqued. If Yuuri looked thoroughly confused by the librarian’s inquisitiveness about his name… well, Yuuri always looked a little confused in the short time Victor had known him so he refused to worry too much about it. 

“Katsuki means ‘victorious’.” 

Victor jumped. 

“Really?! My name is Victor, you know!” 

This time, Yuuri cracked a tiny smile and Victor felt as if his skin was flaring up with heat from the inside. His heart expanded in his chest till it seemed like his entire body was thrumming with the resounding thud-thud-thud of it.

“Yeah. I can see that on your name tag.” 

Suddenly self-conscious, Victor felt his hand fly to his bangs, which really cut into the sexy and suave impression he was hoping his posture would give Yuuri. Frantically, he tried to regain control of his nerves and licked his lips. 

“So, are you a big reader?” 

He cursed himself in his head. What sort of a question was that?! He was going to look like such a dork! He was usually so smooth, he couldn’t tell what was happening to him. 

“I-…” There Yuuri went again, running his eyes over every available sight to him, in search of an answer to a question that really wasn’t that complicated to begin with. He was such a nervous creature, like a rabbit. 

“Yes! Of course! I read a lot! I just love books! And reading them, of course! I love reading books!” 

Usually, Victor could tell in a second when someone lied about being a book lover to him because he’d gotten a lot of practice with that. (It was scary how many people thought the way to a librarian’s heart was through humblebragging about all the classics they had not read). That was why it technically shouldn’t have escaped him that Yuuri’s claims were a load of horseshit, really. He was too busy marvelling at how cute Yuuri’s frown looked, however, to clock on to the trembling of his lower lip. 

“Really? Wow, and you’re a… science student, too. You must be so smart, huh?” 

…

Yuuri had lied. It was a bold, white lie. 

He couldn’t help it though! The pretty man, whose name tag he had only remembered to glance at when he was asked to state his own name, looked scarily close to swooning right into his arms, eyes sparkling and grin looking like a lovely little heart. If he had seemed like a graceful, Greek God a second ago, he was an excitable puppy now. Yuuri had neither figured out how to deal with the whiplash, nor what the secret to not stuttering like an imbecile every time he opened his mouth was.

He hadn’t read a single book in his lifetime and he had never felt even a fraction of the shame he now did at the fact. Really, how stupid of him! How had he not known the super attractive worker at the library would look at him with wide, impressed eyes when told Yuuri loved books too?!

“I am nothing like that! Seriously!” Yuuri insisted. “I am just your average engineering major, barely getting by.” 

“I mean I couldn’t have gotten into engineering to begin with so I think it’s pretty smart. Oh, tell me what your favourite genre is? Let me take a guess! Hmm, mystery?” 

Victor was a talker. Damn, was he a talker. 

Also, what the fuck would Yuuri’s favourite genre be?! Did he look like a mystery guy? What did mystery guys look like? He couldn’t tell. He felt it was safest to just nod his head so he did and tried to smile like his stomach wasn’t actually a tight, hot knot of shameful nervousness. 

“See? I could tell!” God, Victor looked so stoked that Yuuri decided right there and then that no matter what, mystery will become his favourite genre in books for the rest of his life. He would read every single mystery book ever written if he had to!

“Have you read The Stalker by Lars Keplar? I know it’s a relatively old one but I am not a huge fan of thrillers and that was the last book I read. It completely blew me away, though! I think it’s my favourite!” 

The Stalker by who now? Larp Keslar? Yuuri made a mental note to himself to buy the book and read it. When pretty people told you to do something, you fucking did it. No questions asked. 

“What is your favourite genre?” Yuuri decided to deflect because he wasn’t going to admit not being familiar with this book Victor adored so much, he just wouldn’t. He suspected nodding his head while Victor ranted about whatever genre was his favourite would be a lot easier anyway. 

“Classics, definitely. Ah well, a bit of romance, too if I am being honest. Do you enjoy classics?” 

Yuuri couldn’t name a single classic. 

“I love them. They’re like my second favourite, yeah.” 

If Victor’s mouth wasn’t enough of a heart, his eyes sure seemed to be popping into them. 

Damn, he must really like books, Yuuri thought. 

“Oh, Yuuri,” he sighed out and shook his head a little. More confused than ever now, Yuuri just happened to glance at the wall clock to the side of Victor’s head, the hour hand of which was rushing ruthlessly (and judgementally) by. He started.

“It was great talking to you, Victor but I really need to get going now. I’ll check this one out, huh?” 

“Yes of course, right this way!” If Yuuri hadn’t already begun speed walking away, he would have realised Victor extended an arm with a flourish and then almost bowed, before proceeding to look a little baffled by his own actions. “You will need to get a library card made first though and usually we require a small waiting window before we let people check out any books but I will make an exception for you.” 

He also didn’t see Victor wink at him when he said that and then look embarrassed when he realised Yuuri’s back was turned away. 

“Thank you so much, Victor! You will literally be saving both my life and my grade!” 

“Oh, anything for you, Yuuri. Anything.” 

Wow, the guy must be a real nerd to be handing out favours all because Yuuri talked books with him for a second!

…

“Phichit!” Yuuri barrelled into their apartment with only about an hour to spare on the deadline. As was to be expected, Phichit was too busy pulling at his hair to really pay attention to the frenzied quality of Yuuri’s voice. His hassled face reminded Yuuri of what was more important, then (that was, his college education and not hot men) and he was able to focus enough to actually finish his classwork. 

Exhausted, he dragged himself to his room and fell into bed with a weary sigh. The assignment was half-assed at best and it was eating away at him. This perfectionist attitude didn’t suit a serial procrastinator like him, honestly. He decided he needed to humble himself.

Rolling over on his stomach, he grabbed his phone. Going straight to Amazon, he typed in- ‘The Stalker by Lark Seplar'. Results told him, in no uncertain terms, that that was not the name of the author. Sheepishly, he repeated the name twice over to himself and hit ‘buy now’. 

…

“So, you met dreamboat at a library and your plan to woo him is to… read a book he mentioned?” 

Phichit was staring at him with half a frown and half a smirk, very insulting. Yuuri poked his arm with his fork and turned his gaze away with a telling blush on his cheeks. 

“I am not trying to woo him! I just want to give reading a try, for once.” 

“You’re barely keeping up with your class reading.” 

“That’s because I am regretting taking these classes at all,” he muttered. 

Phichit just shrugged. He was like a dog with a bone but then, Yuuri had known that before he brought it up so he tried his best to not let his roommate goad him, much as he was committed to destroying the peace and quiet at the breakfast table today. 

“Even so. You aren’t really a quitter. So…?” 

“So what?” 

“Is this your dumb way of trying to hit on him?” 

“Of course not!” Yuuri cried out. “How is me sitting here checking on the status of my order every two minutes hitting on him?!” 

His best friend was a demon but only to him, really. Everybody else got angel Phichit. Yuuri got maybe-I-actually-really-really-hate-you Phichit. He was grinning now, the awful ass and his heavy, envy-inducing eyebrows were doing a squiggly thing atop his forehead that made Yuuri want to pluck them out. 

“You’re telling me you’re not going to run straight to him when you’re done reading whatever book this is?” 

Yuuri felt himself scowling, which was going to be quite telling, considering Phichit had known him since they were eight.   

“I mean I am gonna have to go and return the guide anyway.” 

Phichit’s amusement only deepened, the fucking sadist. 

“You seriously wanna do this with me, right in the fucking morning huh.” 

Yuuri had always recognised that Phichit had extremely knowing eyes, the kind that seemed to be staring right at your soul. It always hit him all over again in moments such as these though, that it was the truest thing he knew to be true in this entire universe. Giving up embarrassingly quickly, he threw his head in his hands and groaned, kicking out Phichit’s legs under the table. Phichit only laughed.

“I am not trying to woo him! But I would want to. Because who wouldn’t? A logical person who knows not to punch above his weight? That abomination I am not.” 

Phichit clicked his tongue. 

“Honestly Yuuri I don’t think I’ve ever come across anyone who would be considered out of your league by anyone but yourself so I am not taking your word for that. Also, you should have said that first thing! I know all about winning book nerds over.” 

For the first time since his eyes met Victor’s, Yuuri felt a spark of hope in his gut. He looked up, so bloody eager that he forgot to deny Phichit’s unreasonable claims about his own attractiveness. 

“How?” He perked up. 

“Sparknotes, baby.” 

…

“I mean, I know he’s like a science guy,” Victor could see how Chris, another science guy, didn’t appreciate the face he made at the term. “But he ought to like perfume, right? Everybody likes perfume.” 

“Except people who are allergic. And people who are normal. Just, generally speaking, nobody would like to receive a perfume from that creepy guy they once talked to at the library.” 

Chris was filing his nails as he said it and there was something about the activity that just made whoever was doing it appear more dignified than they actually were which was some roundabout logic Victor didn’t quite understand. He flipped Chris off because it was almost instinctive at this point. 

“Okay so I will give him perfume next to next time I see him. What do I do, Chris?” He whined, now that his brilliant plan had been rejected and he was once more, without one. “I have to make an impression when he comes to return the book. Oh! Will my red mesh-back shirt be too much, do you think? I don’t have to wear it all day, I could just change into it when he comes!” 

Chris shook his head, paused his filing, glanced at Victor, gave a deep, weary sigh, shook his head again and returned to his nails. Victor grabbed a pillow off of Chris’ bed and threw it at his head, completely missing his target. 

“What’s your idea, then?!” 

He didn’t almost stomp his foot on the ground like a petulant child and he absolutely didn’t pout. 

“Just flirt, Vitya! You’ve done this so many times before!” 

“Never with a science guy!” 

Chris shot upright in his chair, glaring at Victor with righteous indignation painted all over his face. 

“We’re humans too, Victor!” 

Then, a brainwave occurred. Victor would have patted himself on the back were he alone. 

“I know what I need! Science trivia!” 

Chris’ face fell. 

“You really don’t.” 

“I really do.” 

Chris threw his hands up.

“God help this boy,” he muttered. 

…

Yuuri blinked at his screen. This tweet was proving to be a dilemma. 

Miss Havisham was a character in Great Expectations but that was all Phichit seemed to know about her. No matter how much they stared, they couldn’t make heads or tails out of the joke. 

“Was Miss Havisham, like, a slob?” Yuuri questioned. 

“I think we should try another. Here.” 

Ah. Yuuri hadn’t know Frankenstein was a gay romance with hints of self-cest. Why did people on Halloween dress up as Frankenstein, then? What was so wrong about rejecting someone?

Though it made sense when he thought about it. Rejection was very scary after all. 

 This was valuable information! Yuuri had not known that and now he did. Didn’t Victor say his favourite genre was classics? Well, Frankenstein was a classic too. 

This was a great idea. He could believably bullshit about this! 

That very same night his copy of The Stalker arrived. It was listed as first-hand but it was clearly not. The spine was broken, the pages were dented. This book had passed through a couple hands before, he could tell, and Yuuri didn’t know why that never made him feel scammed. 

It was charming almost. There were at least two people now that he could connect with, over this very copy of this one book, even if he didn’t know one of them. 

Something about that made him smile and he was pleased enough to sit through more of it than he thought he would manage to. 

…

When Yuuri came to the library next, it wasn’t Victor who caught sight of him. Rather he approached Victor, who immediately found himself floundering for words and the right sort of flirty smirk. He had the shirt in his bag, too- because fuck Chris, what did he know- but now he couldn’t change into it!

“Hello.” Victor had never before met a person who was always blushing but Yuuri’s cheeks were permanently a delightful pink, it seemed. “I would like to return this.” 

Victor glanced down. 

“Oh! Of course! How did the assignment go?” 

Yuuri rubbed the back of his neck and there had to be something wrong with his heart because the sort of galloping and stomping and rushing and thudding it began doing every time Yuuri so much as breathed was very unnatural and concerning. 

How was he this smitten already?

“I thought an hour ago that I loved you more than any woman has ever loved a man, but a half hour after that I knew that what I felt before was nothing compared to what I felt then. But ten minutes after that, I understood that my previous love was a puddle compared to the high seas before a storm.”

It came to him out of nowhere and Victor nearly blushed at the audacity of his own heart. He had always adored the quote, prayed it would come true for him someday. This was too soon, surely? He had met Yuuri twice so far. Really, his mind was playing seriously cruel tricks on his heart now. 

“It’s probably going to mess up my average but that’s my own fault, you know. Shouldn’t have left it for so long.” 

“College. It kicks everyone’s ass.” Victor smiled as he marked the book down as returned in his computer. 

“What did you study? That is, if you don’t mind me asking, of course.” 

In the handful of seconds Victor had looked away Yuuri brought his elbows forward to rest on the top of his desk. He was leaning closer, a lot better with eye contact than last time. 

“Law.” 

Most people weren’t polite enough to resist asking but Yuuri did. He couldn’t help the way his eyes flicked over the interior of the library, however. 

“I hated it.” Victor offered and Yuuri nodded. 

“I… can relate with that, at least.” 

Victor raised his brows. 

“Don’t like… um- engineering?” 

Yuuri shook his head. His cheeks seemed rounder than Victor remembered. He wanted to bite him.

“Not at the moment.” 

Victor placed the book in the cart and offered Yuuri a sympathetic grin. 

“That’s not always the same as not wanting to stay in the field.” 

“I know. I am just sticking around till I figure it out.” 

The library wasn’t as empty as it had been that day and it was then that a teenager walked up to Victor, a nervous smile on his face and a copy of Goosebumps in his hand. Victor grinned extra brightly to help ease his nerves. 

There were so many people who felt awkward borrowing kids’ books and Victor didn’t know how to tell them he wasn’t judging without sounding judgemental. He knew how they could be such a comfort, nostalgic to some, a breath of fresh air to others. Tiny, colourful, seemingly light-hearted novellas- but they had supported him way too much through his late teens and early twenties to be mean to anyone over it. 

Plus, a reader was a reader and on principle, Victor loved them all. 

Deciding to be tactful, Victor held back his usual ‘that’s a great choice!’ because it could be interpreted as a snide remark, and simply checked the book out. When the teenager left, Victor turned to Yuuri, stood to the side, patiently. 

Was this a sign? This meant Yuuri wanted to talk more, right, and he didn’t have to. Their conversation was technically over. 

“So our conversation got cut off mid-way last time,” Yuuri began, his eyes brighter than they were seconds ago. “But I have to tell you, I love The Stalker too. It’s so cool that it’s one of your favourites too!” 

Victor’s eyes widened. He grabbed the top of his desk and sprang up onto the tips of his toes, brimming with excitement. 

“Right?!” 

Yuuri bit his lip. His blush got darker. Victor decided it would be something close to a miracle if he, himself wasn’t actually, physically swooning at that. 

“I wasn’t able to sleep for hours after I finished it,” Yuuri confessed. 

Victor snorted. 

“I say that’s lucky. I finished it at six in the morning and felt dead for the rest of the day.” 

“Have you read the parts that come before it? I can’t wait!” 

“ How have you waited?! I went and got all the previous books the same day I realised they existed!” 

Their volumes were louder than they should be and Victor flinched when he was shushed by a middle-aged regular in his own library. It was an untimely distraction, however, and he missed the stumped expression on Yuuri’s face for a second. 

“I-,” Yuuri cleared his throat. “Read mixed reviews about the first book and I didn’t want it to ruin the experience I had with Stalker so I ended up waiting way too long.” 

“Oh,” Victor nodded. “No, I get that. Well, you have it on personal authority now that the prequels are all good. The Hypnotist in particular was very well done.” 

“Ah, now that you’re in the mood to give out recommendations, I have been wanting to get into romance, romantic classics, to be particular. Any suggestions, apart from Frankenstein, that is?” 

Victor felt his dancing, prancing, euphoric brain hit an invisible wall at full speed and crash just that painfully. 

“Frankenstein… a romantic classic?” Yuuri nodded, quite confidently. 

“I mean yeah it’s not, in the most traditional sense, you know? But love, I think, was the core of the conflict.” 

Of course, the Creature’s love for life, for opportunity, for adventure, originating from suffering and ending in suffering but love anyhow. Victor cursed himself for his reaction. Yuuri would think he wasn’t deep now because Yuuri clearly was. 

“That’s very thoughtful, Yuuri. I do agree. It’s just rare that you hear that interpretation anymore. It’s not widely supported these days. Most modern readers choose to focus on Frankenstein’s mistreatment and exploitation of the creature, which is a sound takeaway of course. The crux of the horror in the novel, yes, but I think it reduces Shelley’s genius into something more… bland, if you will. It hits so much harder, the entire tragedy, if you see it from the Creature’s perspective.” 

Yuuri, who had been silent through Victor’s rushed attempt at reclaiming his status as smart person in Yuuri’s eyes, now chose to speak up. 

“I don’t entirely blame Frankenstein either. Consent can be withdrawn at any given second.”

Victor narrowed his eyes. Yuuri seemed to have a very mixed take on the novel.

It was thrilling. Completely enamouring. Victor could imagine all of the discussions they could have together, combing neatly through every minute plotpoint Victor felt creepy bringing up when nobody else seemed to want to. Yuuri would get it, though. He definitely would!

“Well, classic romances, hmm?” His index finger came to rest on his chin and everybody told him he looked like such a poser doing that because apparently nobody naturally stroked their chin while thinking. All he knew was he used to be a theatre kid and the dark shadows of his past were still clutching at him. 

The first book that came to mind, naturally, was Pride and Prejudice but there was no way Yuuri wouldn’t have read it already. Victor pulled out a piece of paper from his notepad and grabbed a pen. It wasn’t working. With a faint curse, he cast out for another but because the gods themselves were against him, he couldn’t find a single pen in his usually overflowing pen stand. 

“You could… text me the names?” 

Victor didn’t like the hesitation in Yuuri’s voice, as if he believed there was a chance Victor would turn the offer down when he could barely keep himself from jumping in excitement over it. 

“Of course!” He scrambled for his phone. “Your number please?” 

Yuuri opened his mouth and then froze. His eyes narrowed a little and he frowned. Victor, heart in his mouth, tried his best to keep his grin from flattening as he waited. 

Yuuri’s expression burst with sheepishness. He looked away, mouth trembling just a bit. 

“Um… just tell me yours.” He cried out. 

“Yuuri,” Victor drawled as he realised the truth of the matter. “Have you forgotten your own phone number?”

Yuuri clamped his mouth shut, now thoroughly mortified. With a chuckle and a flourish, Victor held out a hand for Yuuri’s phone. When it was given to him, he couldn’t help but notice the tiny brown poodle in the background. 

He sighed out loud. With every other second, it became more apparent, Yuuri was handcrafted especially for him. 

“Do you like poodles, Yuuri?” He typed his number in, his fingers slightly shaky. He wished the answer would be yes and he wished when he told Yuuri about Makkachin, Yuuri would ask to see her, too. 

Please, please  

“Yes, I have a pet poodle. He lives back home with my parents because my first landlord didn’t allow pets.” 

If Yuuri was to move in with Victor, he could have as many pets as he wanted. 

A second later, Victor sternly ordered himself to calm down. This would go nowhere if he got so far ahead of himself like this. 

“That’s sad. Your present one does, I assume?” 

Yuuri nodded as he took Victor’s phone back from him. 

“Yes but I don’t have the money to spare and I am not going to ask my parents. What’s your last name? Just, I always save numbers with full names.” 

Victor felt disappointment dig its claws into his guts but this was fine, surely. Totally reasonable. It was a habit of Yuuri’s, clearly, and not a desire for distance from specifically Victor. 

“Victor Nikiforov.” 

Yuuri repeated the name to himself, his accent softening the harsh v’s and and lengthening the rolling r’s. This was it, Victor decided. This was how he would go. 

“That’s a nice name. Sounds very stylish,” Yuuri grinned. “Sad that I will always think of Frankenstein whenever I think of you.” 

“Hey, so long as you are thinking about me,” he winked. Yuuri blushed, his eyes widening and his expression that of a man ready to run away. Hastily, Victor changed the subject. 

“I have a poodle, too. A bigger one. A standard one. She is brown, too, though.” 

He used to be good at this, once upon a time. 

At least, Yuuri wasn’t looking like he was about to bolt anymore. If anything, he looked slightly amused, as if he may just laugh at Victor. He would have found that off putting if it wasn’t for… well… Yuuri. 

Victor was incomprehensibly, inappropriately thankful for every single second that Yuuri spent looking at him even if he was calling Victor an idiot in his head. 

“Interesting. Just last night I was watching YouTube compilations of standard poodles demanding hugs from their owners.” 

“Yeah, my Makka is like that too. If ever you’re feeling down or missing your dog too much, you can come see her and I am sure she will hug you till you are happy again.”

Yuuri blinked, a little startled. The brown of his eyes seemed to be colouring Victor’s heart with a nerve-wracking sort of vulnerability that he wasn’t very familiar with. It was an offer, Yuuri could take it or leave it. 

It wasn’t… it wasn’t anything warranting the crazy pace of his heart or the way his chest felt tight around the gushing sigh just fixing to break out of him. Yuuri’s glasses were crooked, he noticed suddenly, and thought that if Yuuri was to turn him down, it would truly crush him. 

He wondered if he should pull up a picture of Makkachin, maybe that would sell the idea more. Victor could charm his way into Yuuri’s heart once he could get them to start hanging out. His fingers had only started reaching for his phone when it pinged. Victor jumped, biting back a curse as he pulled the device out. 

“That was me,” Yuuri said. “Sorry.” 

Victor hadn’t even noticed when Yuuri texted him. 

“Oh, that’s okay.” He opened the chat box. It was a simple ‘hi’. Victor smiled. 

“I know you asked for classics but I have a poem to recommend too, if you’d like.”

“Oh. Sure. I don’t read a lot of poetry but I would give anything a try.” 

‘ He Wishes for the Cloths of Heaven by W.B. Yeats’ he typed in and sent the message. Yuuri’s message tone was the croak of a frog for some reason and Victor raised his brows in amusement as he watched Yuuri open the text message.

“Yeats. I have heard of him.” 

“But I, being poor, have only my dreams. I have spread my dreams under your feet. Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.”

“What?” 

“Just a quote.” 

Yuuri licked his lips. There was a tiny birthmark right by the corner of his mouth that Victor suddenly found himself fixated on.  

“It sounds very… poetic.” 

A chuckle fell out of him and Victor shook his head. 

“That it is,” he said. “So? What do you say? Would you wanna come meet Makkachin?” 

Yuuri must have had longer hair at some point recently, if Victor were to bet, because he tried to brush hair shorter than his ear behind it, a nervous gesture Victor would recognise anywhere. 

“I would like that, yes.” 

He couldn’t help it. 

“Great!” He nearly jumped, clapping his hands together in front of him. Yuuri’s grin widened at his enthusiasm and Victor decided maybe it wasn’t the most embarrassing thing to be dorky if he could get Yuuri to look like that. 

“I will message you book titles as I come up with them through the day, okay?”

“That sounds perfect.” 

When Yuuri left, Victor watched him (and his ass) the entire way till he crossed the street and disappeared from sight. It was then that he realised that he had needed neither the mesh shirt, nor the cute puppy picture, nor the cool science facts he had read and memorised. Yuuri’s number was in his phone. 

He saved his contact with a little heart emoticon. 

…

“He’s a very nice guy, Phichit.” 

“He was trying to ask you on a date.” 

“No, you don’t get it. Just a very kind guy. But Sparknotes sure helped, he looked so impressed! I think we need to study more, don’t you?” 

…

The Price of Salt by Patricia Highsmith was one of the titles Victor recommended. Yuuri was most intrigued by its summary and he ordered it along with the Hypnotist. He had the twitter account of Sparknotes open on his laptop on his other knee and he scrolled through it as he entered his card pin. 

A tweet caught his eye. He hadn’t read a single play by Shakespeare but it was funny regardless. 

It made him snort out loud. When he realised he didn’t have to wait to pester Victor with his nonsense till whenever he saw him next, he pulled open their chat. 

‘Would you classify Hamlet as a dramatic e-boy?’ 

It was late at night and Yuuri wasn’t exactly expecting a reply. Really, he wouldn’t have texted in the first place if under the blankets in his bed wasn’t such a spot where space and time ceased to exist and yet, Victor’s reply flew in with a rapidity that reminded Yuuri of his childish excitement over the smallest of things. He was smiling before he even read the words. 

‘Yes I absolutely would but I also need you to acknowledge that I absolutely didn’t need to know that.’ 

‘Too bad.’

There, huddled in bed and grinning, squinting altogether at his too-bright phone screen, Yuuri began understanding the charm of the poem, that poem, He Wishes for the Cloths of Heaven, all too well. As message after message flew in, he too became intensely aware of the fact that already, Victor had power enough to be able to claim anything Yuuri had to offer with a wink of an eye tomorrow or a dumb little gif tonight that wasn’t funny enough to make Yuuri laugh but did anyway. 

‘Going by that, do you think Macbeth is a big, strong Alpha Male?’  

Yuuri had no idea what a Macbeth was but that did sound like a Chad name. 

‘I would bet.’ 

‘You should know that I am laughing like an idiot in the dead of the night and Makka is fully judging me.’ 

‘Pics or it didn’t happen.’ 

Pictures did come. Makkachin was an adorable dog. Victor’s offer was truly generous. 

He was such a kind man. So hot and so smart and so nice. He was so far out of Yuuri’s league it wasn’t even funny anymore. 

Yuuri sighed and rolled on to his back, holding his phone up in the air. The room was way too silent, he decided he needed some music. 

Victor probably wouldn’t want to date him. 

He had no confusion over his own attractiveness. He wasn’t ugly but he was nothing special enough to attract someone like Victor. Even so, he at least seemed to be willing to offer his friendship and some book recommendations, even if all he was trying to do was convert Yuuri into a nerd like himself.

‘ She is cute.’ 

‘Taken after her owner, clearly.’ 

Yuuri snorted. 

‘ I doubt that. Her coat is still very thick from what I can see.’

‘how dare you’ 

The lack of capitals and punctuation tickled Yuuri. He jumped anyhow, when the song playing from his phone cut off all of a sudden, his ringtone breaking into the mellow rhythm with a harsh, high note. When he realised who was calling him, he shot up in bed, eyes wide as he accepted the call and held the phone to his ear. 

“Victor?” 

“How dare you?”  

Yuuri grinned. 

“Denial is nothing but a phase, sir.” 

“Yuuri!” 

“I am sorry! I am sorry!” 

“You’re not! You’re laughing!” 

“I am not!” 

Victor huffed. “I can hear you, Yuuri.” 

“Did you call me just to sulk?” 

All of a sudden, Victor was dead silent. Yuuri was wondering if he had taken the teasing too far when he blurted out, almost as if he was in a rush- 

“I thought up another recommendation for you!” 

“Oh?” 

“Maurice by E.M. Foster.” Victor paused for a second. Yuuri could hear a rustle on his end and then a dog’s friendly, low yip. He could imagine Victor in his bed, scratching Makkachin on the head maybe. He didn’t know why but he knew for sure that Victor was the sort of person who slept naked. 

“It’s a gay romance. Classic, like you asked.” 

“Oh.” 

“I found it… quite relatable.” 

Yuuri felt his breath catch in his throat. 

“Oh,” he repeated, dumbly. “I suppose I will relate to it, too, then. In a way.”

“In a way?” 

Yuuri scratched his chin, suddenly itchy. 

“I mean, is there a bisexual guy in there as well?” 

Yuuri didn’t know why he would but he could hear Victor smiling when he replied- 

“Yeah there is. The love interest.”

… and then, Yuuri was smiling too.  

…

Yuuri looked up Victor’s social media with Phichit the next morning because he had been informed that that was the logical next move. None of his accounts were private and as it turned out to be, he quite liked pools and tiny, skimpy swimwear. 

His dog was as adorable as him. He drank a shit ton of coffee everyday. He liked taking pictures of his eyes under sunlight and then raving online about the faint hints of green in them. He had a bookstagram. He had a booktok. He posted more about politics than Yuuri would expect. His cousins were all pretty. He had absolutely no pictures up with his parents. He religiously updated his Goodreads. He bought pretty journals and never used them. His bookshelf at home was overflowing so he had taken to storing some of his books in the library’s basement. He was convinced mint tea upset his stomach. He thought he looked his best in black. 

Every little fact, Yuuri filed away, coupled with a smile and a faint pang of his heart, weary already with the strain of falling so hard, so fast and for someone so out of his reach. He messaged Phichit with every new detail he discovered and reminded him of them whenever he found himself marvelling at them again. He thought it was for the best that he had left that assignment off for as long as he had for if he had not, he might not have met him.

With shaky fingers, Yuuri followed his Instagram. It was as if Victor was waiting for this very moment though for immediately, Yuuri was receiving requests on all his handles. Apparently Victor was great at using Yuuri’s username on Instagram to find out his username everywhere else. 

Even Reddit. 

He was a ridiculous man sometimes, Yuuri thought as he finished and put the Hypnotist aside. 

He ordered boba tea for himself and sat right back down with another tiny tome of Victor’s recommendation. Who had known it would be possible but Victor had made not only a lover but a reader out of him, too.

Yuuri was beginning to understand why people said the two went hand in hand. 

…

The next time Yuuri showed up at the library, Victor greeted him with- 

“Did you know that your brain contains around 100 billion nerve cells? Isn’t that crazy?! I don’t even think I can perceive how big of a number 100 billion is!” 

Yuuri smiled, looking just a bit confused. Victor cursed himself. His timing was fucked! He hadn’t even let Yuuri say hi!

“Yeah that is a huge number and no I can’t perceive it either.” Yuuri shrugged. 

Victor’s face heated up. Was it stupid to say he didn’t know how big that number was because he had just panicked! He even knew how many zeroes went after the one there.  

“I bought you coffee,” Yuuri said, holding up the brown paper bag. “Mind you, I am not a coffee drinker but it seemed like you are. My roommate swears by this place, anyway so…” he trailed off, averted his eyes, suddenly shy. Victor hadn’t thought it could ever be possible for one person to be so charming but Yuuri was. He truly was endearing in everything he did. 

Mila had helpfully informed him, some days ago, in the middle of one of his mooning sessions that ‘yeah, he is cute and all but your thing is getting kinda out of hand now’ as if she was immune to what Victor still hadn’t learned to resist. How was it possible that someone could look into eyes this brown and earnest and cheeks so round and rosy, and not immediately fall in love? 

It was impossible. 

Even so, he counted it for the blessing that it was, that Mila just didn’t seem to get it. His thing with Yuuri was fairly new, he wasn’t ready for a rival even if he was always prepared to fight for Yuuri’s hand in marriage. 

“Thank you so much, Yuuri. I do love a good cup of coffee. Oh, and there’s donuts!” He looked up at Yuuri, gazing right into his eyes. “You really are the best, aren’t you?” 

“It’s nothing,” Yuuri rubbed his nose. “Just a little thank you for all the help you’ve given me picking books out. I haven’t had a single disappointing read so far.” 

Somehow, somehow, that was the best compliment Victor had ever received.

…

‘Shakespeare would be a feminist today.’ 

Yuuri grinned. It was tempting to agree because one always wanted to assume the best of people like that, didn’t they? It was far more tempting to grill Victor though, so he replied-

‘State your reasoning.’ 

‘I mean, have you counted how many times he had a woman dress up like a man and finish a job a man couldn’t and a woman wasn’t allowed to?’ 

No, Yuuri hadn’t counted. Yes, Yuuri had noticed. It made him feel a strange thrill, at the bottom of his stomach, the very idea that he and Victor thought the same way, focussed on the same things.

‘I haven’t but I’d say once was enough proof. If I had to pick a woman- Portia.’

‘Respectable choice.’

‘What about you?’ 

‘Desdemona. I love how her entire arc is set up to highlight a woman going against the patriarchal systems in place back then and submit to the ones she wished to, only to eventually succumb to the male ego and jealousy. I always took it as a sort of nod to the fact that any fight worth fighting is fought by thousands of soldiers who pick up where another left off.’ 

Yuuri smiled and typed ‘Desdemona’ on Google. 

Othello was bumped up right to the top of his to-be-read pile.

…

‘Do you like Russian literature?’

‘I have never read any.’ 

‘Offensive.’ and then- ‘Are we ready for an intro to it yet?’ 

‘Consider me daunted.’ 

‘Don’t you worry, Yuuri. I have just the book in mind to start you off with. A nice dose of existentialist dread + genius one-liners + it's short and accessible.’

‘Just what an engineering major needs. YET MORE existentialist dread.’ 

A beat of nothing, followed by- 

‘Well, name and shame it.’ 

‘Notes from Underground. When you swing by the library next, I’ll give you my favourite translation.’

… 

‘I have been looking to get into Japanese literature for a while but all of it sounds very dense and complex to me. And nature-based, a lot of the time. You know my tastes, Yuuri, what do you recom-’  Yuuri peeked at the first-half of the message from the notification itself and made the conscious decision to not open Victor’s chat box, yet. Stomping outside with his phone clenched in his hand, he found Phichit sprawled across their couch tossing almonds up in the air and trying to catch them in his mouth. 

“There you are,” he brightened up when he saw Yuuri. “Here, catch.” 

An almond bounced off Yuuri’s shoulder. 

“What was that anime you were talking about that features all of these famous writers and their books as characters or something?” 

“Bungou Stray Dogs,” Phichit tilted his head. “Why?” 

“We’re bingeing that tonight,” Yuuri said, diving back into his room for his laptop. “I got research to do.”   

…

‘What’s your favourite fruit, Yuuri?’ 

‘Nashi. They’re like pears. What’s your favourite flower, Victor?’ 

‘Daffodils. Fun fact- they are the flower narcissus that Narcissus turned into. Actually, you’d be surprised how many flowers find notable mention in Greek mythology.’ 

Conversations looked more like that these days, with no real heads or tails to them, no urgency and certainly nothing essential about the topics they talked about. Victor smiled at his phone screen. He wished he was a more expressive guy and then someone could take a picture of his face and show it to Yuuri, show him once and for all, everything that he felt.

‘Pizza or burger? Trying to settle a debate with the roommate.’ 

Such an innocent text it was. Such a bundle of nerves Victor immediately became. 

‘Pizza. You know what would make it extra tasty though?’

He had to. He just did. 

‘What?’  

‘If I could have it with you ;)’ 

God damn, it was such a stupid line. He was in his mid twenties and he was out here suggesting they get pizza over text. 

The doubt came as swiftly as the embarrassment did. Nothing had come out of the Makkachin thing and this was so much more direct. What if Yuuri was subtly trying to hint that he was not up for it by never bringing up meeting Makka again? Had Victor just entered creep territory?

Suddenly restless, he switched on his table lamp and then switched it back off again. This was pathetic, all over pathetic. He sat up in his chair, got to his feet, then perched on his desk. His reading corner was the cosiest corner in his house but Victor never used the velvet cushioned chair with its throw pillows and a coffee table to the side to do his actual reading. No, that almost always happened on this boring little desk. If somebody was to move in with him, he couldn’t explain why the reading corner existed in the first place then. Mostly for bookstagram, he would say, but that wasn’t really the truth. 

It found its purpose though when Victor’s imagination, out of nowhere, became weighed by an image of Yuuri sitting there with Victor’s head on his knee, reading to him. Victor would be holding a bowl of grapes or a tray of macarons and he would keep feeding them to Yuuri till Yuuri shoved him off. He could see it, he could see it so clearly it broke his heart to have to wait for Yuuri’s reply. 

‘Haha. You’re funny. Thanks and sorry for the late text.’ 

Victor deflated and crumpled on himself, so much so that Makka felt the need to come and place her head on his thigh, trying to comfort him in the only way she knew how. 

Victor patted her head. 

“I don’t know why I expected pizza to work where you failed, though.” Then, a second later, “I don’t even like pizza!”  

…

“He’s very dramatic and he thinks it’s all very funny, you know.” 

“Again, he was trying to ask you on a date.” 

“No, you don’t get it. He’s just like this all the time. It’s nothing more.” 

…

Determined to not give up already, Victor decided he was going to impress Yuuri, whatever it might cost him. That evening he let Yuuri say hi before he began. 

“There’s a metal called caesium that can explode if it comes in contact with water! I feel like that’s the sort of thing my teenage cousin would find fascinating and it’s a little worrying to me that I am so caught up on it, too.” 

He absolutely wasn’t caught up on it but the moment he said it he knew it was the right thing to bring up because as it turned out to be Yuuri was either super into hyper reactive metals or shiny ones, because caesium was both. 

“It’s also one of the only five elemental metals that are liquid at room temperature,” Yuuri perked up, suddenly going a mile a minute. “It is also pyrophoric which, okay, I know how that works but it never stops feeling like a tiny miracle, you know?”

Yuuri made everything sound miraculous. 

Victor accepted the book that Yuuri placed on his desk and grinned. 

“Well, did you like it?” 

“You know it was good, Victor. I am devastated but your taste is amazing as always. That what you wanted to hear?” 

Yuuri was wearing a pink shirt. He didn’t know why that was such a thing but it was and now Victor couldn’t stop thinking about it. From the corner of his eye, he could see Mila smirking at him. 

“You should read Circe next. By the same author,” he lifted the book and waved it in the air. Yuuri’s eyebrows shot up. 

“Another Greek mythology retelling?” 

“Yep,” he popped the ‘p’ and then wondered if that sounded obnoxious. 

“Okay. I will add it to my ever growing list of books to be read.” 

“Should be used to it by now.” 

Yuuri gave a strangled sort of laugh. 

“Yeah, I am! Of course I am!” 

Victor looked up, curious about the sudden rise in pitch of Yuuri’s voice. One of Yuuri’s brow was doing a weird thing, shivering, almost. Without thinking about it, Victor reached out, fingers curling against Yuuri’s temple and thumb smoothing over the thick, arched eyebrow. Under his touch, Yuuri froze. 

Victor’s eyes fell to Yuuri’s, the height difference suddenly greater than it had been, even from over the desk. He wondered what he was thinking, why was he touching Yuuri’s eyebrow?! He wanted to back off, he wanted to apologise. 

He did no such thing. It was okay, he supposed, Yuuri wasn’t moving away either. They weren’t even that close.

… and yet, when Yuuri swallowed, Victor was powerless to not imitate. Yuuri’s eyes trailed up from his throat to his jaw. He bit his lip the way he always did and Victor’s thumb began stroking his skin again, spanning across his temple, sneaking into the line of his baby hair. 

It wasn’t cold but Yuuri shivered anyway.

… and it was that, rather than anything else, that made Victor pull away. 

Yuuri blinked. Victor blinked. In tandem, they looked away and then came back to each other again. 

“Okay!” Yuuri blurted out, as if to make up for the embarrassment Victor could tell he had begun to feel. “Okay, but don’t you think Wuthering Heights feels slightly incestuous?” 

Another thing Victor had recently discovered was that along with being deep and meaningful, Yuuri also had a tendency to be a complete troll when it came to books. 

“I- Yuuri, ew!” He cringed, physically. It was not even an exaggerated overreaction. “It’s childhood friends to lovers! One of romance’s favourite tropes and it’s sick- it’s shameful, really, that you could say that!” 

Yuuri laughed, finding obscene joy in hurting Victor like this. 

“Aww, is it yours, too?” 

Victor decided to take a chance there for reasons unknown to himself. Later, he would come to the conclusion that it was probably the events of seconds ago- for now that he had gotten to touch, Yuuri had become a thousand times more irresistible. 

“Nope. I am more a fan of bookstores and coffee shop romances, myself.” 

He was proving to be crushingly dense, however. 

“There were coffee shops in the Victorian Era?” 

Victor forced himself to not let his smile crack. 

“There are many other types of romance novels, you know, apart from period pieces.” Victor frowned. “A lot of modern ones feature bookstores and libraries and I can’t help but fall in love with every single one of them.” 

He didn’t think he could make it more obvious, more pointed now. 

Yuuri nodded his head. 

“Well, include some of those in your lists too. I feel like you have made me read so many classics I have lost my grasp on how the modern world operates. Catch me saying, ‘ If you will pardon me, dear!’ when I bump into someone now.” He laughed at his own joke, scrunching his nose a little. Amidst all of that, Victor couldn’t help but marvel at how much more comfortable Yuuri was around him these days. Victor was no longer the only one cracking stupid jokes or teasing the other and Yuuri wasn’t all that inclined to avoid Victor’s gaze. 

If he could have nothing else, he would have at least this, Victor decided. This Yuuri would be all his, as a friend, as a customer, as someone fed up with Victor’s classic obsession. All his. 

“Lucky for you,” Victor said as he pulled out the book he had already checked out for Yuuri that morning. 

“Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine” Yuuri read out the title. “That sounds like a modern name at least.” 

…

He didn’t know why he felt surprised when he finished the book that very day and reached to text Victor at 4 in the night because it was no longer a rare occurrence. Victor had successfully converted him. 

It was a truly strange point in time for the guilt to flood in, now that Yuuri actually was what he had claimed to be in front of Victor, but it did anyway and he found himself sitting in his living room, barely an hour away from sunrise, suddenly hating himself over lying to Victor. 

… but then, he hadn’t lied to Victor, had he? 

He had lied to the hot librarian who turned his words to lead and made him feel as self conscious as it was possible for Yuuri to feel. Not to Victor, who smiled wider than Yuuri ever dared to and clicked more pictures in a week than Yuuri had in his entire life. 

He hadn’t lied to whiny Victor, or pouting Victor, or uses keyboard emoticons Victor. Oh no, not to ‘only understands tiktok trends when they involve books’ Victor or to ‘strokes his hair and gets lost in Yuuri’s eyes’ Victor. 

He didn’t want to lie to that Victor. Never, not even over the smallest shit. 

He clutched the book closer to his chest. With an unprecedented snideness, his phone lit up right then with a reminder from Goodreads to complete his profile. 

Yeah, he had made a fucking  Goodreads. 

His chest felt tight. It was a harmless thing said in passing. How was it that all of a sudden, it weighed so heavily on his heart? He hadn’t even hoped to still be in contact with Victor to begin with! 

It had been months already. 

Yuuri set his phone aside and fell back on his couch. 

He needed to come clean. 

…

Victor stared. He did not look like he had comprehended the ‘so I lied. I hadn’t read a single book before I met you.’

Yuuri was twiddling his thumbs together. Usually he would suppress the urge but it was already exhausting enough to not try to run away so he held still and let his fingers do whatever. It was the least of his worries. 

“Why… did you lie?” 

His words were heavy, as if his head was muddled with way too many thoughts and he was struggling to find the line worth attaching himself to. Yuuri gulped. 

“I just panicked. You were just there .” 

‘It was because you’re sexy’ just didn’t seem like the sort of excuse that would win him any points. 

Victor didn’t seem to get that. His frown was half-hearted and so was his nod. Blue eyes looked preoccupied, however and Yuuri could do nothing but wait and watch in silence as whatever realisation sat at the edge of Victor’s consciousness made itself known. 

Then, he gasped.

“Did I make a book lover out of a non-reader, then?!” 

The middle-aged man that never took kindly to their ruckus glared at them once again and Yuuri hastily shushed Victor. 

“Yes, you did but keep it quiet, will you?” 

“Oh Yuuri!” He exclaimed, then lowered his tone significantly and muttered, “I have to write this in my journal.” 

Yuuri couldn’t do anything but marvel at the man, at his priorities and how fucking ridiculous they were. Laughter shot out of him, hesitant at first but only growing surer with the excited, childish gleam in Victor’s eyes. Within seconds, Victor was laughing, too and it was nothing like Yuuri had imagined it would be. 

He threw his head back, his shoulders shook, his eyes crinkled till they disappeared, even though they weren’t especially narrow. The sight squeezed Yuuri’s heart. 

Maybe it was the lightness he now felt, relieved of a burden he had only become aware of shouldering a few hours ago and grown weary of supporting already, but something prompted him to step around Victor’s desk and walk right up to him, as if he might hug him. 

He didn’t. He just froze in place in front of Victor, staring up at him because he was already that close. Victor blinked, opened his mouth a little and then shook his head. 

When he looked up at Yuuri again, he was smiling. 

“It’s about time for my break,” Yuuri immediately felt suspicious. He had been to the library dozens of times around this hour and he had never seen Victor take a break. “And I was going to get a sandwich or something. Will you come?” 

Suddenly, all Yuuri could hear was Phichit’s frustrated screeching as he jabbed a finger in Yuuri’s direction and repeated, over and over again, that Victor was trying to ask him out on a date. It must be the sparkling of Victor’s eyes or it could have been his blush but his best friend’s insistent words rang heavy and clear at the back of his head now. For the first time since forever, he entertained the notion that Phichit might be right. 

Yuuri felt his breath get caught in his throat. He could recall by memory alone, the verse Victor had recited to him all those days ago and he repeated it under his own breath, in his own mind, to his own racing, exhilarated heart. 

‘ But I, being poor, have only my dreams. I have spread my dreams under your feet. Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.’

All the way back then, he had said that, hadn’t he? 

Yuuri felt his own face heat up, became aware of the rest of himself with a startling clarity. With shaky fingers, he grasped the front of Victor’s shirt, unable to look away from his eyes. 

“A sandwich sounds perfect, actually.”

…

The area Victor’s library was located in was pretty, it always had been. 

Except the colours on the flowering bushes by the sides seemed brighter that day and the lilting voices of laughing children as a throng of them rode a school bus somewhere made Victor and Yuuri smile as it passed them by. Victor clenched and unclenched his fingers, wondering how awkward it would be if he asked to hold Yuuri’s hand and Yuuri turned him down. 

Was it going too fast, to hold hands too soon? It was technically their first date, even if they had known each other for a while and if Victor was to be honest with himself, he would admit he wasn’t even sure Yuuri had realised this was a date. 

The look in Yuuri’s eyes, his shy grip on Victor’s shirt- it all came back to him in a rush and wordlessly, he held his hand out and watched Yuuri’s face become pink again. 

With something just short of a coy smile, he took Victor’s hand. 

Victor felt fireworks go off inside his chest, resisted the urge to swing their hands between their bodies like tiny kids on a sugar high and sent Yuuri a smile instead. 

He felt like he was walking on an actual cloud, like the stone of the pavement was really cotton and his lungs were filled with air of a sweeter, crisper kind, the kind that Earth was too polluted to host, clearly. He licked his lips and hoped the sandwich shop would be open. He knew no other restaurants in the area. 

It was open and Yuuri found the fake picket gate erected outside the tiny building very amusing. 

They went inside, still hand in hand, and Yuuri quickly spotted an empty table for two before dragging Victor over. It was right next to a window, which was great, because Victor had just discovered the breathtaking beauty of brown eyes in the sun. His own traces of grass green to spice up the blue couldn’t compare for a second to all of the rich shades and colours swirling together in Yuuri’s large eyes, brought out by the way sunlight fell over half his face, making his skin appear shiny and his cheeks softer. He felt compelled to take a picture or to kiss him, whichever would be allowed. 

“Hello there!” The voice of the waitperson was cheery and high-pitched. Victor watched Yuuri’s brow scrunch a little in discomfort before he smoothed his expression and hastily turned to see if the person had noticed.  

“Are you ready to order?” 

They had not. 

“No, give us a second please?” 

Yuuri breathed a sigh of relief when the person left and then turned to Victor with a thankful smile before finally turning to the huge overhead menu. His eyes widened. 

“That is quite the range of options.” 

“Isn’t it? I can tell you which one’s the best, if you want. I have had a lot of sandwiches from here.” 

After their food arrived, Yuuri looked up at him and asked, 

“So, you’re definitely not mad at me?” 

Victor hummed.

“I am a little disappointed. Our friendship began with books, after all.”

“That’s not true, Victor.” 

Victor raised his brow and suddenly uncomfortable with the attention, Yuuri scratched behind his ear. 

“I mean, our friendship began with us wanting to be friends, right? That’s still true.” 

“Oh,” Victor smirked. “Just friends, then?” 

He was never going to get tired of making Yuuri blush, he thought. 

Except that was not entirely it, no. 

He just didn’t think his heart could take it if Yuuri was to go on for days, leading Victor about under the impression that they were dating only to turn around and say, ‘hey, no, we’re just friends’. He wasn’t going to let that be a problem with them. If all Yuuri wanted was to be friends then they could be friends in the library. This was a date and he had to ensure Yuuri meant to come on one. 

Yuuri scratched the edge of their table with a nail too bluntly cut to do the wood absolutely any harm, and then he scratched it again, and again, and again. 

Victor kept quiet, sitting still as he could.  

“Or-or more than friends,” Yuuri began. “If you want to.” 

Victor blinked. 

“Of course I want to, Yuuri. Why else would I ask you out?” 

“No! Of course! No, I just meant- I thought… I just- you asked and I thought maybe I misunderstood or something. And we don’t have to, if you don’t want to! I mean I thought you did! With that line in that poem… and… stuff.” He trailed off and Victor had thought he had seen Yuuri at his most nervous, jumpy as he could be except that was apparently untrue. These were previously untapped heights of nervousness and second-guessing right here and Victor didn’t know whether to laugh or marvel at the impossibility of the man in front of him. 

“I do want to, that is, date you. Of course, I do.” 

Yuuri deflated. 

“Oh, okay. Okay, good. Because I want to, too.” 

Victor nodded. 

To escape the awkwardness, Yuuri stuffed his mouth with his sandwich and Victor followed his lead. He had gotten two bites in when a thought struck him. 

“Wait!” he grabbed the edges of the table and leaned forward, brow so terribly furrowed that Yuuri actually looked, not only startled, but scared for a second. “Does that mean you hadn’t read any books before you met me?!” 

Meekly, Yuuri shook his head. Victor sat back. After a beat, he said, 

“There are so many fantastic books that I didn’t recommend to you because I just assumed you must have read them.” 

Yuuri nodded, slowly. His eyebrow was quirked up though, as if he thought Victor was insane, which, in the general passage of life and time, was a solid position to take but when it came to books, he mostly knew what he was talking about. 

“You’re never read Pride and Prejudice?” 

“No.”

“Lord of the Rings?” 

“No.” 

“Narnia?” 

“Nuh-huh.” 

“Dorian Gray?” 

“Nope.” 

“Agatha Christie?” 

“Never.” 

“Oh my god.” 

Yuuri chuckled. With as serious an expression as anybody had ever made, Victor told Yuuri, 

“I am about to change your entire life.” 

Yuuri’s smile softened. 

“Yeah, I am sure you are.” 

...

...

Yuuri rang the doorbell and bounced on the heels of his feet. Victor was right behind, standing closer than he strictly needed to. Well, to be fair, he didn’t need to be on Yuuri’s floor at all, he could have as easily dropped Yuuri off at the front of his apartment building, except when he said he wanted to walk Yuuri to his house, he meant doorstep instead. 

It was kind of cute. It was also making Yuuri’s stomach shoot up in panicked butterflies because did this mean he had to invite Victor inside? He would, except he led the life of a slob and Phichit was a terrible enabler. They always needed a heads-up about twenty four hours before somebody showed up to their place in order to make it look vaguely inhabitable. 

He definitely didn’t want hot and perfect Victor to see any of it. 

He bit his lip and rang the doorbell again. He and Phichit both had the day off so he could realistically imagine Phichit curled up in bed, sound asleep, and he hated that because the longer he stood in the silent hallway with Victor breathing down his neck jabbing at his own doorbell like a fool, the more his nerves felt like they were slowly coming alive and slithering their way out of his body through the pores of his skin. 

Nervously, he hit the bell again and sent Victor a tiny, nerve-wracked grin. 

… and he had been doing so well all day! 

The date was easy, easier than Yuuri had imagined it would be. Fun, in a way he hadn’t had on any dates before. Most of them were rife with anticipation, multiple checklists running through Yuuri’s head dedicated to all the things he had gotten wrong, all the things his date had gotten wrong, all the things he was likely to get wrong, all the reasons a relationship with this particular person would be amazing and all the reasons it wouldn’t. Yuuri couldn’t do the live in the moment thing, not on a day to day basis at least. He lived about fifteen years in the future and fifteen years in the past all simultaneously and he knew no way to fix that. 

The thing was, Victor apparently did. 

He had so much to say and so much to ask and eyes so keen and gorgeous, Yuuri’s brain felt cramped with building devotion for the man. There was no room for checklists, even when he stumbled and said the wrong thing and rambled for way too long. 

He hadn’t made too big of a fool of himself and about half of the credit for that went to Victor never shutting up for long enough to let that happen. 

… until now, that was. 

… because, Yuuri put his hands in his pockets to resist biting on his nails (he wasn’t even in the habit of doing that!), were they going to kiss now? 

Did Victor expect a kiss? Yuuri wouldn’t mind a kiss. In fact, Yuuri wouldn’t mind a kiss so much that you could almost say he was the one expecting a kiss. 

Everybody kissed on doorsteps after a date ended, right?

Victor cleared his throat and Yuuri squeezed his eyes shut. Slowly, with a decidedly awkward smile, he turned around. Victor smiled too. Yuuri nodded his head. Victor mimicked the movement. 

“So,” Victor began and Yuuri sighed in relief. “When are we doing this again?”

Yuuri grinned. 

“What, skiving off your job so we can have sandwiches?” 

“I thought I was rather slick with that one,” Victor huffed.  

“Sure.” Yuuri paused for a second. “But to answer your question, there is this production of Hamlet I have been wanting to see. Local theatre group but they are supposed to be really good.” 

 Victor raised his brows. They were so neatly done that it was kind of obvious that he got them done professionally. 

“Are you asking me to go watch a Shakespeare play with you? Oh, how the tables turn.”

Yuuri shoved Victor, only lightly. 

“To be fair, I had been watching plays for years before I met you. It was just mostly more… original stuff.” 

Victor bit his lip. 

“I did theatre, you know?” 

“Of course, you did.” Yuuri shook his head and Victor’s smile widened. 

“So, did you ever actually read Hamlet before you called him a depressed e-boy?” 

Yuuri licked his lips, hands flying to lock behind his back and shoulders scrunching up in embarrassment, a lot like his nose. 

“No?” Victor began laughing and Yuuri rushed to clarify. 

“But I did read it after that conversation. Macbeth, too actually.” 

“What did you think?” 

Yuuri had never once heard Victor raise his volume or speak loudly and yet his voice was distinct, commanding, self-assured. When he spoke, Yuuri found himself getting hooked onto every single syllable that came out of his mouth and he didn’t much try to resist that. 

“I think you were right about Macbeth. And I also think Horatio and Hamlet were doing it behind the scenes.”

“That’s a popular theory.” 

“It is?” 

“Yeah,” Victor said. “Been so for years actually. Some of the major criticisms of it mostly just amount to ‘you wanna make everything gay these days’.” 

Victor rolled his eyes when he said that, hands flying up dramatically. Yuuri glanced to the side before turning back to Victor. 

“I think… if… if a writer does justice to their story, it just runs its natural course, you know? I mean, all I have noticed is the best characters always feel a little more alive than others. So, if we look at it that way, wouldn’t it be just as natural for writers to end up writing queer characters without meaning to? They just don’t pick up on it where other queer people do. Because it's nature. I am sorry, I don’t know how to put it. It sounds better in my head.” 

Victor shook his head, a hand brushing against Yuuri’s elbow. He took a step closer and an invisible string pulled Yuuri’s spine ramrod straight. 

“It makes sense. I get it.” 

It was hard to look away from Victor when Victor was looking right into your eyes.

“Good,” Yuuri said. “Good. I don’t want to sound like a rambly fool.” 

Victor lifted a hand. His fingers curled around nothing for a second, millimetres away from Yuuri’s skin. The very air seemed to shiver at his touch, raising goosebumps along Yuuri’s arm and down his back. 

His hand came to rest on Yuuri’s cheek, thumb close to his mouth. Yuuri gulped. 

“You always sound clever to me. And funny. And interesting. I love listening to you and I would love listening to you actually ramble too.” 

Oh, he was definitely expecting to be kissed now. 

Victor’s eyes darted to his lips and Yuuri watched them narrow a little. Hesitantly, he lifted his own hands from behind his back to rest around Victor’s neck, his thumbs stroking his jaw. Victor leaned closer and Yuuri allowed him to crowd his body against the door, the stability of the wood a welcome relief from the breathy, giddy lightness Victor always filled him with. He tipped his face up and parted his lips for a kiss when it happened. 

The stability gave way and he found himself tumbling back. Only for a little though.  

Their door was stuck. It never fully opened. 

“Sorry Yuuri, I just woke up and saw- holy shit .” 

Never in his wildest dreams had he thought Phichit, always-trying-to-get-Yuuri-laid Phichit, would cockblock him but that was exactly what their sad reality looked like. Yuuri bit back a curse and let Victor help him straighten his posture. 

“Hi! You must be Phichit.” Victor stuck a hand forward and Phichit accepted the handshake with a gaping mouth. Half of his body was hidden behind the door which was good because he was wearing his half and half pink and yellow night suit. 

“I’ve heard so much about you.” 

Phichit waved his hand at that and grinned, recovering his composure quicker than Yuuri had when he first saw Victor.

“Not as much as I have heard about you, I bet.” 

“Yes, okay, that’s great. Thank you, Phichit. Good bye, Victor. I will text you, okay?” 

With a rougher push than he had dealt Victor minutes ago, Yuuri sent Phichit tumbling back into the apartment, crashing into something that sounded like it fell over and clattered furiously against the floor. He shot Victor an embarrassed smile and a hurried wave and only gave him time to half spit out ‘goodbye’ before he was shutting the door in his face. 

“Dude,” Phichit whispered furiously from where he sat next to the broken pieces of a vase they had both hated and placed by the door in hopes that someone would knock it over and break it and then feel so sorry they’d buy them a new one. “He’s so much sexier than in his pictures! I don’t know how you have resisted climbing up his body like a squirrel for so fucking long!” 

“I don’t know either!” Yuuri whispered-cried back. “I was about to kiss him before you opened the door!” 

“Oh!” Phichit blinked. “Oh, I am sorry. I didn’t know. Damn, this was the sort of thing we got that peephole built for.” 

“What? No! Phichit, you’re an idiot. Help me clean this up now.” 

Unfortunately, Phichit’s only response to that was a snort. 

…

Victor had only just gotten home for the day when Yuuri texted him the details of the show. With a happy grin, he told Yuuri he was excited to go and then read the text out loud to Makkachin, promising over and over again that she too was going to get to meet the best person in the whole damn world soon enough. 

Makkachin wagged her tail and barked and Victor took a picture and sent it to Yuuri. 

‘She really wants to meet you.’ He wrote underneath. 

‘She is adorable. I can’t wait to meet her, either.’ 

The memory of Yuuri’s shy eyes from earlier that day was still very alive in his mind, his closeness, his tantalising lips just inches away. 

‘You don’t have to. You can meet her whenever you want.’ 

They already had their next date planned, technically. Victor also couldn’t wait, actually. 

‘Maybe even tomorrow, if you’re free?’ 

He wasn’t the most patient of men, no. 

‘Like, early in the morning? Because I have class for most of the morning and afternoon.’ 

Victor cheered a little for himself in his head before typing his reply. 

‘Early morning works just fine. Maybe you could join us on our morning run? I will pick you up?’ 

‘Sounds like a plan.’ 

The most perfect plan of all, in Victor’s humble opinion. 

It was in this bubble of euphoria that the phone call met him, the number disturbingly familiar despite Victor never saving it on his phone. He let the call go to voicemail, where he knew a voicemail would definitely be left, and refused to let it ruin his good mood. 

Things were looking up in his life. Everything was fantastic. 

He wasn’t going to let them take this away from him too. He wouldn’t allow it.

…

As it turned out to be, all Victor truly needed in life was to see Yuuri’s thighs in leggings. He was having trouble keeping his eyes off of them. 

“Hello! Oh my god, aren’t you adorable?” 

Unfortunately, or fortunately, the only one Yuuri had eyes for was Makkachin and Victor stood to the side watching his favourite person coo all over his favourite dog and waited to be noticed himself. 

A long time. 

When Yuuri did look up, it was with the widest grin and flushed cheeks. Victor forgot his disgruntled complaints in a second and held his arms open for a hug. With teeth digging into the corner of his lower lip, Yuuri stepped into his embrace and wrapped his arms around Victor. 

Victor sighed and buried his face in the side of Yuuri’s neck. Short, aborted laughter was tugged out of him when Yuuri pulled away to face him and he brushed his fingers through Yuuri’s bangs because he could. 

“Is it stupid that I missed you so much even though I saw you yesterday?” 

Yuuri shook his head. 

“Come on,” he said as he threaded his fingers through Victor’s. They took two steps forward but then realised it wouldn’t be easy to run like that. With regret of a near comical degree they let go of each other’s hands and Victor got Makkachin to break into a run just a couple steps ahead of them. 

Yuuri took off his glasses and tried to put them in the pocket of the trousers he was not wearing. When he noticed his leggings didn’t actually have pockets, he frowned and looked about himself as if he could magically conjure a shelf to place his glasses on. 

“Here,” Victor asked, palm upturned and held out to him. Yuuri glanced at Victor’s sweatpants and smiled in apparent relief before placing his glasses in Victor’s hand.

“Thanks.” 

Yuuri kept jogging on, rounding the corner even as Victor trailed to a stop, carefully sliding the glasses into his pocket and trying to figure out why his heart decided to take that simple instance and run away with it, twirling around into a rush of such intensity that Victor was left smiling and confused, feeling like a part of himself just settled in place with the frame of Yuuri’s specs. 

…

“You drove to my house?” 

Victor was panting just like Makkachin when they returned, hands on his knees. Yuuri was nowhere near that bothered. His stamina was admirable. 

“I live quite a ways away, Yuuri and Makka is getting on. Didn’t want her to tire before we even met you.” 

Yuuri’s face scrunched up and for a second he looked like he might apologise for living where he lived before he shook his head and turned back to Victor. 

“Next time, we can meet somewhere halfway, yeah?” 

Victor’s heart soared. 

“Yeah, yeah that sounds perfect. Anyway, I have something for you in there, come with me.” 

The car wasn’t parked too far away but Victor’s already burning lungs cursed his inability to find a closer parking spot. He unlocked the car and opened the passenger seat door before crawling in with his knees on the seat and leaning over to the back. When he resurfaced with Yuuri’s gift in his hands, he found himself face to face with a face so red he figured Yuuri had gotten himself a heat stroke in about the five seconds he was turned away. 

“Hey, are you okay?” 

“Yeah!” Yuuri cried out and refused to look Victor in the eye. “What did you have for me?” 

“Oh, this,” Victor held out the battered, beaten down, ages old hardcover for Yuuri to take, who raised his brows, breathing way too deeply and still staring at their shoes and the pavement they stood on. “The book that sparked a lifetime of adoring classics.” 

Yuuri’s handling seemed to seep with delicate care as he heard Victor. His thumb stroked the golden lettering of the title only barely visible now and he smiled. 

“Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde?” 

“I first read it as a picture book adapted for children. Then this. It was my grandfather’s. I have read it more times than any other book I think.” 

Yuuri looked up. 

“Must be nice, you know, to have a family member introduce you to books like that.” 

Victor hummed and stuck his hands in his pockets. 

“I mean, it is the only good thing to have come out of my family. Except for my inheritance of course.” 

He tried to joke it off. That was how he preferred to introduce the subject of his family best. It was suitably casual, an easy disclaimer. 

There was a streak of red along the side of Yuuri’s neck, bright against his sweaty skin, irritated because he had kept scratching at it. Victor chose to keep his eyes on that streak instead of looking Yuuri in the eyes and catching whatever expressions floated through. 

“Don’t have a good relationship with them?” he asked. 

“I have none.” 

A lot of queer people preferred partners who had bigger families, or so had been Victor’s experience. They understood, for as long as they assumed Victor’s family was homophobic, which wasn’t true. A non-physically abusive, rich upbringing was sort of immune to critique in many people’s eyes. They all kept telling Victor how his parents were human too and forgiveness was happiness, that they probably regretted things Victor was sure they wouldn’t even remember doing. He had been told so many times to make things up with them that he found himself losing interest quickly from that point. 

No, he wasn’t still suffering because of them. No, they weren’t as terrible as they could be. No, he still didn’t want to make things up with them. 

It was very simple. Victor didn’t understand why people didn’t understand it. 

“Oh, well that sucks. I didn’t realise you come from old money though.” 

Victor plastered a smile on his face. 

“You really thought I would drop out of a law degree if I had paid for it?” 

Yuuri lifted his brows a little, his mouth quirked up in an expression Victor had been subjected to many times in his life. 

“Most of us pay our way through uni semester to semester, Victor. So yeah, it’s actually natural to assume a drop out might have run into financial troubles and… well, dropped out.” 

Victor nodded his head. Makkachin, who had been patient all this time, was scratching his front tyre now so he tugged softly on her leash as a warning. 

“That actually makes sense. No, they paid for it. Picked out the college, too. It’s kind of a family thing. We made our money defending the rich and guilty.” 

Yuuri licked his lips and recalled his missing glasses out of nowhere, pointing at Victor’s pocket and holding his hand out for them even as he frowned and tried to come up with a response. 

“Did you have moral objections to that?” 

Victor shrugged and carefully placed Yuuri’s glasses on his face. 

“None strong enough to prompt me to leave. No, that was just how they treated me,” a beat, and then- “Is that bad?” 

His fingers brushed against Yuuri’s cheeks and he watched Yuuri shiver. 

“No, it isn’t. So you took the money and left?” 

Victor nodded, then grinned because this was something he was proud of. 

“I bought the library with some of the money. Been living in a way smaller house since all of that but I am so much happier that it hasn’t mattered at all.”

Yuuri mirrored his expression and reached forward, a hand resting on Victor’s arm. 

“That sounds a lot more interesting than my own plan for the next few years.” 

Vaguely, Victor thought they shouldn’t be having a conversation this long by the street side but it was easy to lose track of everything when he was with Yuuri. 

“Which is?” 

“Work for my degree. Get it. That’s about it.” 

Victor laughed. 

“Sounds solid.” 

“And boring.” 

Victor licked his lips. 

“What’s your sun sign Yuuri?” 

Yuuri raised his brows, expression now one of open mockery. 

“Sagittarius, why?” 

“I thought you were either a fire or air sign.” 

“Okay?” Yuuri narrowed his eyes. 

“You are,” Victor clarified. “A fire sign.” 

“Okay,” Yuuri nodded though his tone hadn’t shifted a lot as he looked Victor up and down all over again. “What about you? What sign are you, fire, air, electricity, traffic?” 

“Original,” Victor rolled his eyes. “I am a Capricorn. Earth sign.” 

Yuuri hummed and reached forward to stroke Makka’s head. 

“That suits you. What about her?” he nodded down at the dog, tone a little sarcastic, completely unaware of how seriously Victor took this. 

“Oh, she's Leo. The only Leo I ever liked in fact.”

“Okay,” Yuuri scoffed, shaking his head a little and Victor frowned down at him. 

“You shouldn’t dismiss astrology like that, Yuuri! It’s a field studied over centuries and followed extensively across the globe. You know, if you want to be introduced to the magic of star signs I actually know this amazing book-...” 

Except Yuuri was squatting down, rubbing his cheek against Makka’s fur, face all woe-is-me. 

“Your human is insane, Makka, isn’t he? Oh, you poor girl, the things you must have to put up with.” 

Victor stomped his foot a little like a child. Yuuri laughed, and Makkachin gave a happy little bark, and Victor realised for the first time with such absoluteness that it left him feeling a little untethered, a little unsteady on his feet, that there was no place, no time, no moment in this entire universe that he would rather be than here. 

Right here. 

…

The theatre date went well but the picnic date went better because Victor was laughing so hard he toppled over and Yuuri took the chance to lean over his body, hands digging into grass from over the thin bed sheet they sat on, caging Victor where he was. Victor gazed up at him in his billowy white shirt and crooked glasses and asked Yuuri to kiss him. Yuuri breathed out a broken ‘finally’ and placed his lips on Victor’s. 

The park was relatively empty. They weren’t exactly being watched and that alone was any saving grace when it came to what happened next because when Victor urged Yuuri to climb on top of him, he did and their bodies responded to each other like they were meant to, tearing silenced moans and broken gasps out of their mouths. Yuuri’s weight felt nice, right in the cliche, romance novel sense. Victor crowded Yuuri against his chest and craned his head back as Yuuri’s lips trailed below, far below his own. Yuuri’s fingers undid the top buttons of his shirt and his heated kisses touched every inch of skin bared. Victor closed his eyes and held Yuuri’s hips down, desperate for the pressure to increase. 

It was only Makkachin’s errant barking that made them break apart and Yuuri scrambled away from him, cheeks aflame and lips red. Victor laughed when he saw his face though he knew his own must be pink too. 

On their way back, Yuuri returned Victor’s copy of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde to him. At home, Victor opened it to find a tiny bloom of daffodil pressed inside, and fell a little more in love than he already was. 

‘I wish I could take you to go meet Vicchan.’ Yuuri confessed over text later.

‘One day’- Victor promised, and he kept it too. 

Through many more such dates, and make out sessions uninterrupted by his beloved dog, and gaming hours when Victor always lost despite how hard he tried, and a myriad of book recommendations flowing both ways rather than one now. He kept it till an opening came up and he jumped on the chance, eager to meet Yuuri’s dog and his parents and his sister and his childhood friends and goddaughters and ballet teacher. He bought two flight tickets and stuck them in a gorgeous paperback (because Yuuri liked them over hardcovers and would not see reason) of Maurice before presenting it to Yuuri to read out to him…

… while sitting in Victor’s reading corner, on his couch with the throw and the fancy cushions while Victor rested his elbows against his knees and whined at Yuuri to open his mouth from time to time so he could feed him chips. When Yuuri hit the page the tickets were on, his voice stuttered into silence and he stared down at the book in his hands, eyes wide. 

Slowly, a teardrop fell. Victor panicked. 

He sat up on his knees, cradling Yuuri’s face in his palms till Yuuri bit his lip and whispered softly, 

“Thank you, Victor.” 

… and then he had an armful of a teary, happy boyfriend to support, which was fine- more than fine by him. Like he had decided all those weeks ago, there was nowhere he would rather be. Ever.