Chapter Text
Finger poised on pursed lips, Victor’s head cocked to one side.
Congrats to our grads!
The window across from his was often filled with signs and notes, and sometimes, it gave him a glimpse into the lives of a small video game development firm– Next Level, as per one of the displayed banners. Naturally, he had researched their company, and it had amounted to a heavy increase in his To Be Played library. Working long hours at his publishing firm, Victor bore witness to late night coding marathons in their open floor plan office, Mario Kart tournaments, and the hiring of the latest class of interns.
He was often amused by their antics– a regular sign reading “ Days Since Someone Forgot to Hit Save” was his favorite. It was currently set to 36, a new record, as far as he was aware. Lately, a sort of internet challenge had been doing the rounds, allowing for Victor see coder after coder sporadically jump up from their desks to break out into dance with another recording on their phone.
All in all, he was grateful to have such entertaining neighbors.
Mila and Yuri, his own interns-slash-unofficially-adopted-children, had taken to writing back, leaving notes on the windows of his office when he wasn’t around. Yuri was quick to blame the dwindling A4 supply on Mila, and vice versa, but Victor just silently added an extra box to their next printer paper order.
These antics weren’t unusual, so the congratulatory sign wasn’t what gave him pause. A smaller paper with a sloppily written note was hung haphazardly besides it.
Send us pizza!!! :D
With another thought to the strange kinship On Love Publishing had developed with Next Level, Victor unlocked his phone and found the frequently used food delivery app.
—
The ringing intercom nearly made Yuuri jump out of skin. He raced out of his seat and to the phone, desperate to put a stop to the blaring noise. They really ought to unplug the damn thing.
“Hello?”
“Your pizza delivery is here, should I send it up or are you comin’ down?” Yuuri pulled the receiver away from his ear, as if looking at it would explain away his confusion, before speaking again to the front desk security.
“Sorry?”
“Next Level, right?”
“Yes…”
“Yeah, pizza’s for you. Says ‘Congrats’ on the box. You comin’?”
“Uh- be right there, thanks!” Yuuri hung up and turned to Phichit, who was pointedly not looking at him.
“Peach, we packed lunch today.”
“We did.”
“So why is there pizza for Next Level in the lobby?”
Still avoiding eye contact, Phichit waved vaguely in the direction of the windows. Snickers sounded through the room. Yuuri leveled a squinted look at their interns, all of whom were following his roommate’s example and keeping their eyes directed at lines of code.
Huffing a sigh, Yuuri stalked over to the window. A smaller sign had joined his Congrats on the glass. He tore it down, reading the words and laughing.
“As long as you didn’t buy it with our Seattle money.” Next Level was flying across the country in a few months, finally big enough to secure a booth at the most popular video game convention in North America. People flying their entire company, including their interns, from New York to Washington didn’t order pizza.
Still standing by the window, a glint across the way caught his eye. Yuuri felt his face heat as he registered the handsome silver fox– the one who Yuuri had thought didn’t know he existed– waving at him, sunlight reflecting off his watch.
Yuuri watched, mouth slightly agape, as the suited man reached over his desk only to open a pizza box. Heart-shaped grin on the incredibly attractive man’s face, he picked up a slice of pizza and lifted it towards Yuuri in a toast before taking a bite.
Yuuri let out a squeak and ran.
-
Feet up on the windowsill, Victor sat in his luxury desk chair, inhaling his second slice of pizza. He watched leisurely through the glass as the brunette returned to his office, four flat boxes in hand. Another dark haired man shot out of his chair before bowing to his cheering coworkers.
The reaction was rather endearing. He would have to send them more food, if this would be the reception every time. Victor counted half a dozen little chicks lining up in front of their mother hen, the adorable man who had torn down the request for pizza; it seemed like he hadn’t sanctioned the addendum to the Congratulations .
Turning away from the window, Victor reached down to share his crust with Makkachin. His dog walker brought his dog to the office on Fridays after lunch. She loved to visit his employees, especially Yuri, who hid dog treats in his desk and would deny it if asked. Victor gave the sweet poodle a pat on the head and resumed his gazing.
He sat up straight in his chair. Across from him, the man was back, facing Victor head on. He looked shy– Victor wished he knew his name. Disheveled dark hair, glasses, an oversized hoodie. He was holding a plate, raising it up in thanks, ducking his head sheepishly.
Victor realized he had been staring with a stupid smile on his face for too long when the man started looking uncomfortable. Holding his hands up desperately wanting the stranger to stay, Victor looked around for something to write on. He grabbed the legal pad on his desk and a thick marker and started writing.
I’m Victor
He scribbled over his lines a few times, just to ensure legibility. He held the pad of paper against the window and watched as the man squinted slightly before his eyes widened and met Victor’s own. He scrambled to put his pizza down, shuffling through a messy desk’s contents before running out of sight again.
On Love Publishing was a childhood dream. Growing up and realizing early on that he was gay, Victor realized quickly how few healthy portrayals of queer relationships there were in media. With his affinity for writing, he wrote and published his first gay romance novel rather early on, three years out of high school. It was a story of two male figure skaters finding love on and off the ice.
From there, his business snowballed into over a dozen published novels, and on getting bored, he decided to use his amassed funds to help other LGBT+ authors follow in his footsteps. His pen name, S. V. Aria was the anonymous benefactor behind Victor Nikiforov and On Love. But, hiding behind his pen name had left him lonely.
Learning the first video game from Next Level had a gay protagonist, without any of the cliches or fetishizing, had made him feel strangely warm inside. He had played the entirety of that game, despite never having played a game on his computer before, in just one night.
Movement out of the corner of his eye drew his attention away from Makka. He stood, leaning against the wide window sill. The man was holding a sign against the window, larger than Victor’s own.
I’M YUURI :)
Yuuri. Yuri was going to love that.
Flipping the page in his notepad, Victor wrote back as Yuuri began eating his lunch.
PIZZA GOOD?
He was limited in how much he could write with his legal pad, but he figured it got the point across, as Yuuri set his plate down again. He realized Yuuri had run off to fetch a whiteboard when he started erasing his sign. Victor made a mental note to have Mila order some for the office.
YES, TYSM!!
TOO KIND
Victor felt his face warm as a feeling of satisfaction settled deep in his chest. He was about to write back when Yuuri, wide-eyed again, scrambled to erase his board again. He leaned it against the window whilst pressing his hands into the glass.
IS THAT
A DOG?
Turning around, Victor found Makka strolling around his office, having left her dog bed to get in a good stretch. She bowed, tail high in the air, high enough for Yuuri to see. His best girl had gained an admirer.
Victor, grinning again, shucked his suit jacket and laid it across his chair.
“Come here, Makka, let’s say hello to Yuuri,” he cooed, crouching down to pick her up. The poodle was a rather big dog, but she was his baby and used to being in his arms.
Makkachin sniffed the glass as she dropped down onto the sill. Victor pointed towards a waving Yuuri, petting her.
“Isn’t he cute, Makka?”
-
Yuuri pressed his nose into the glass, breath fogging the window. He wiped the sleeve of his hoodie across the condensation, desperate to see. Not only did the attractive man next door, Victor , look like a male model, but he had the cutest dog in the whole world.
On top of that, he had picked up the large poodle like she weighed nothing, just so Yuuri could get a good look. Whatever he did to receive this good karma, he needed to keep doing it.
Victor held up his notepad.
THIS IS
MAKKACHIN
“Guys, guys, come here,” he hissed, not budging from his spot by the window. One by one, he heard his coworkers start to realize the gift they had been given, gasps and footsteps. Eventually, the entire office was lined up by the windows, still munching on their pizza.
Victor was clearly a fan of the audience, nudging his sweet dog to raise her head, lifting her tail like they were participating in a dog show. Yuuri giggled, face warming as Phichit caught the uncharacteristic sound and poked his cheek.
“I see you noticed how sexy our neighbor is,” Phichit commented dryly. “I didn’t know he had a dog. So far, he’s an eight. The tall blond guy is more my type.”
“He got us pizza. All of us. He’s a ten, Peach,” Yuuri insisted before continuing, hesitantly, “How old do you think he is?” He squinted, trying to figure out if Victor’s hair was actually silver or just a very light blond. He didn’t seem old, not with the way he had carried the dog like she weighed nothing. Maybe he could carry Yuuri like that…
“We can ask him!” Phichit was already writing on the board before Yuuri realized it was taken from him.
He halfheartedly tried to stop it, though he really wanted to know the answer, instead focusing his energy on encouraging the interns to resume working. Victor took a break from the tricks he was demonstrating with Makka to read their whiteboard. Yuuri could see him laugh before he ran a hand through his white-blond locks.
WANNA FIND OUT?
Phichit snorted before patting Yuuri on the back, returning the marker to him. “He’s all yours, tiger. Make me proud.”
Yuuri tried to dodge his friend’s attempts to ruffle his hair, laughing despite himself. He wasn’t good at flirting, but he wanted to try. He wanted to so badly.
He took a peek at Phichit’s sign, doing a double take and scrambling to erase it. Heartbeat thudding in his ears, he turned to hiss, “Phichit, what the fuck ?”
CARPET
=
DRAPES?
He looked over desperately, hoping Victor had seen he wasn’t the one to ask the ridiculous question, but the man was busy kissing his dog, both hands scratching behind floppy ears. Something in Yuuri’s chest squeezed tight.
Reaching back to the marker, he was about to clear up Phichit’s stupidity when movement caught his attention from the corner of his eye. The door behind Victor opened up to reveal the redheaded woman, Mila, that he often saw his own intern, Sara, conversing with.
He watched as she helped herself to the pizza on Victor’s desk, patting his shoulder with a familiarity that made Yuuri itch with envy before he shook it off, returning to his desk. That was enough ogling for the day.
-
The next few weeks followed suit. Victor wrote a note every morning; Yuuri wrote one back. Sometimes, the other boy– Phichit, he learned– would respond first, and Victor would catch Yuuri rushing to erase the silly messages.
On those occasions, Victor had begun to realize Phichit was on his side. At least, it seemed he suspected where Victor’s interests lie and thus interfered accordingly. More than once, he had arrived at his office only to find Yuuri’s lunch availability in the window, though his office crush was quick to remove it. Typically, he would find it disheartening, but nothing about this situation was typical, so Yuuri’s shy waves and frantic scribbles just endeared him to Victor further.
Victor squinted towards Next Level on a Friday morning. His eyes scrubbed over the various papers and boards in the window to find nothing had changed since the previous day. Not only was there no sign of Yuuri, the lights were still off and none of the other employees had arrived. He frowned down at his watch– it was already 9:30 AM. Yuuri was never this late, at least not since they became penpals.
“Oi, why do you have all this shit? Can I throw it out?” Yuri caught his attention with his gruff morning voice, waving envelopes and colorful pages around. Victor’s eyes followed the movement until they focused in on what he was holding.
“Yura, no!” Victor gasped, lunging forward to wrench the stack of papers out of his intern’s hands. He clutched it close to his chest, holding it far away from the little tiger. “This is precious, don’t you understand?”
“It’s just fan mail, baldy. You get a shit ton of it every day. We’re gonna run out of room for the books, y’know, the important stuff?” Yuri sneered at him, even as he made no move to take back the mail.
“You’ll understand when you finally write something I can publish, Yura.” Victor sighed, ruffling the teen’s hair, who instantly stepped back in a huff, smoothing his blond locks again.
“I do write, you just don’t like anything other than your own work.”
“Not true, kotenok, you’re just not ready yet.”
“Blah, blah, whatever. Give that shit back, I’ll scan it before I throw it out. But you’re making Mila show you how to find it, old man.”
Victor thought back to all those nights in front of his computer, learning how to download Next Level’s games, finagling the settings, figuring out how to replace his graphics card (read: paying someone to replace his graphics card). He could handle scrolling through some scanned mail.
He smiled, “Good idea, Yuratchka.”
Turning back to the windows, Victor sighed at the sight of the dark office.
“They’ll be back Monday, stop being so dramatic.”
He whipped around to look at his intern, carefully styled hair flopping over his eyes. “What do you mean they’ll be back? They left?”
Refusing to meet his eyes, Yuri responded, “They went to some convention or whatever.”
“Convention? How do you know? Did I miss a sign?” Victor frantically searched the windows of Next Level, but seeing nothing to indicate where his long distance friends had gone.
“Beka told me.”
Victor turned back to Yuri slowly, noting the change in tone. The young blond, naturally pale and therefore finding it difficult to conceal, was turning red. It started in his ears, creeping down to his cheeks, before all of Yuri’s face was flushed in a way that was not uncommon to Victor. Rather, it was typical of an angry Yuri to burn so bright, but never like this. He pondered the sight before him.
“Who’s Beka, hmm?” He felt obligated to tease, looking at the intern more like a younger brother than an employee. “Did the little kotenok make a friend from across the way? Which one is she? The dark haired girl that Mila ogles?”
“No, dedka, Beka is Otabek. A guy. Mila has a crush on Sara.”
“Don’t think you can change the subject by bringing up Mila,” Victor perched on the corner of his desk, chin resting on his hand thoughtfully. “Tell me more of this Beka.” It was difficult to conceal the smile trying to beam in Yuri’s direction.
“We just text sometimes, don’t be annoying.” Yuri fidgeted with the papers he still held. Suddenly, his head shot up, glaring directly at Victor. “You! Why am I telling you this- ugh, I’m leaving, baldy.”
Victor laughed, calling out after him, “Thanks for cleaning out the mail room, Yura!”
Settling down in his chair, Victor kicked his feet up, resting them on the windowsill, a common position for him to be in. He stared at the empty office, sighing again, this time, without any employees to judge his dramatics over being alone for a single Friday.
“You two text, huh?”
-
“Yuuuuuuri has an admirer!”
Yuuri bustled over to Phichit, inside out umbrella and bag in tow, sopping wet and frazzled.
“Give me that,” he hissed, ripping the vase out of his irritating friend’s hands. He held it huddled to his chest, the pulse in his neck throbbing so hard he could hear it. It was Monday morning; Next Level returned from their first successful con, yet all he could remember was Phichit ribbing him over Victor . He must really be missing Victor– he dressed nicely, if only Victor could see– wow, we’re all so hungry, if only Victor could send us more pizza.
If he wasn’t already thinking about the silver haired man, he would have throttled Phichit by now.
“Go be useful somewhere else. Please,” Yuuri shooed the overcited boy away, unable to feel guilty at his harsh tone when it was met with such a mischievous face. He set the vase of flowers down on his desk before stripping all the wet layers off, unceremoniously dumping his useless umbrella into a trash can.
Yuuri woke up completely convinced he was going to have a bad day, and the series of unfortunate events that followed only served to prove him right. The cartoonish spray of water from the cars speeding by him on the curb, the comically large gusts of wind inverting his umbrella, and worst of all, the realization that heavy rain meant he couldn’t see Victor.
He hated Mondays.
Glancing wistfully at the windows, bathed in sheets of rain, he settled into the slippers he kept stored under his desk. Yuuri wished he still had the pajamas from those miserable weeks of rushing to finish their last videogame; the office had seen several all-night coding marathons.
The flowers on his desk were extravagant by Yuuri’s standards. He was one of those people that always stopped in the floral section of the grocery store, but never bought anything. He loved to look at them, but his frugal nature persisted even through Next Level’s success.
Still, he recognized the large flowers: pink, red, and white camellias. He made a note to search for their meanings once his computer booted up.
A stiff white card stood out from the blooms. Grabbing the note, Yuuri felt heat rise to his cheeks as he felt eyes on him. He looked up to find Phichit back again, hugging sweatpants to his chest and grinning like a madman.
“You can change later, you should read the note, Yuuri.” Phichit winked at him.
“Say something else obvious, hamster boy.” The grin just grew wider. Yuuri sighed to hide the smile creeping up on his face as he flipped the card over.
Hope the convention went well!
I missed you, Yuuri. I hope you won’t make me
wait until the rain stops to see you again
Dinner tonight?Victor
xxx.xxx.xxxx
Yuuri’s eyes glossed over as he imagined his office crush writing his number down— for him. Ordering flowers– for him . Wanting to go to dinner. With Yuuri.
“For the love of all that is good– YUURI. JUST SAY YES.”
A wave of determination washed over him. He pulled out his cell phone and entered the number with steady hands, typing out a short message before hitting Send.
Lobby at 6. Dinner. Yes.
And through the rain coming down from the dark sky in sheets, through the brightly lit windows across the way, Yuuri could just make out a figure standing up abruptly, leaping for joy. His heart skipped a beat as he made out a fist pump into the air.
“Hey, Peach, do you have any nicer clothes I can borrow?”