Chapter Text
Look, it had been a rough week.
It was dead week, right before finals — nothing to do except study, and with the way Viktor’s literature class had been kicking his ass since the semester started, focusing on the actual course material was really just taking a hammer to his self-confidence. Throw in a younger brother demanding his help with his high school work, his fridge dying, and about a thousand other tiny things that would’ve been insignificant on their own but added up to create the perfect storm of misery — and yeah, he wasn’t having the best night ever.
It was for all of these reasons that Viktor had ended up in the 24-hour McDonald’s drive-through on a Thursday night. Or, he guessed it was Friday morning now, technically, even if he and Christophe had once had a very spirited debate while drunk about how days shouldn’t turn over until four in the morning. It really made perfect sense that way.
So there he was, car stopped in front of the large golden menu board, trying to decide what he wanted because he needed comfort food, damn it, and even if he valued his health there was nothing wrong with some fast food once in a while. Everything in moderation, or whatever the saying was.
The shameful thing about his situation was not the fact that he was at McDonald’s. The shameful thing was that he was at McDonald’s at 12:13 in the morning while wearing poodle slippers and a Snuggie over his business slacks. He had gone to a club meeting earlier in the day and hadn’t been able to find it in himself to change fully, simply taking off his blazer and replacing it with soft blankety goodness. The pink convertible wasn’t really helping either.
Poodle slippers and a pink convertible with the top down in the McDonald’s drive through. Maybe not his finest moment, but still far from his worst. This was the kind of thing that Yakov and Yuri could never find out about. Or Christophe, but just because he’d be jealous Viktor didn’t invite him.
Some peppy song from the eighties was playing loudly from his radio, which he turned down as he pulled up to the speaker and the box crackled to life. Over the intercom, a rather enthusiastic sounding voice greeted him. “Welcome to McDonald’s! What can I get for you this evening?”
Viktor cleared his throat, “I’ll have a ten-count chicken nugget and a large fry, please. No drink.”
“Any sauces for you today?”
“Uh… just ketchup. And an Oreo McFlurry?” He needed some sort of incentive to allow him to keep reading, and sugar could be just enough fuel to keep him going.
“Absolutely! Will that be all for you today?”
“Yeah, thank you.”
“Your total will be $11.83 at the second window.”
The intercom clicked off as Viktor pulled forward, looking around for his wallet. The door of his car only held his emergency water bottle, various breath mints, and some loose change. His cupholder was similarly empty of anything resembling the leather square.
He didn’t have much time to panic though, because when the window opened, Viktor came face to face with the most beautiful man he had ever seen in his life. It was as if the heavens had opened up and deposited an angel at this chain location that evening, his long lashes framing deep brown eyes as his soft rose-tinted lips quirked upwards in a gentle smile. How anyone managed to rock the McDonald’s uniform so well was a mystery that may never be solved, but Viktor was just happy to have been able to witness a miracle of this caliber before his —
“Sir?”
“Sorry, did you say something?” Damn it, Viktor needed to pull himself together. The most alluring food service worker in the world was speaking.
“Just that your total is $11.83.”
“Ah! Yes.” His wallet was definitely not in the car with him. “…do you accept Apple Pay?”
One very awkward lean over the door as he attempted to press his phone to the card reader and a quick drive back to campus later, Viktor had collapsed dramatically on his bed, lamenting his lost love while his fries started to go cold.
“You’ll never understand. This was a man who could have a war started over him. He could be the modern day Helen of Troy, Christophe.”
His roommate leaned on the back of his own desk chair as he watched Viktor’s dramatics, appearing unconvinced. “I think you might have just been sleep-deprived and really hungry, anyone willing to feed you probably seemed like some sort of deity sent from the heavens.”
“It wasn’t the food! It was him. He was- I’ll never be able to describe it in a way that could possibly capture it. The greatest poets wouldn’t stand a chance.” Viktor spooned another glob of Oreo goodness into his mouth.
“I’m eating your fries, they’re going to go all soggy while you’re talking,” Christophe warned, which Viktor dismissed with a wave of his hand. He was too hopelessly in love to worry about french fries.
He sighed. “The way he handed me my chicken nuggets… I've never seen such care given to a paper bag before. It was endearing, I think. Competency is attractive.”
Christophe was re-reading his paper for some reason instead of giving Viktor’s crisis the attention it deserved.
Viktor continued anyway. “And when my hand took the bag, I swear our fingertips touched, if only for a second. And then he smiled at me and said he hoped I have a great night! He wished me well, Chris. Don’t even get me started on when he brushed some of his hair out of his face because you know how I am, once I get going I’ll never stop.”
“Viktor, I understand you have a crush, and I think it’s very cute. But I’m sure you have a paper due in the morning and I don’t think you’ve started writing.”
Viktor sat up. “Oh fuck.”
After his lecture concluded, which included turning in a slightly rushed but still readable essay, Viktor went to the library for the theoretical purpose of studying but with the actual intent of finding the man from the drive-through using the wonders of the internet.
Not long after Viktor had started university, a fashion-based Instagram account featuring students at his college popped up. It gained popularity incredibly quickly, despite the anonymity of the person who ran the account. The elusive account manager never revealed any part of their identity, instead choosing to bring attention to the students they highlighted with the photos and snappy captions attached to each post. Viktor often made an appearance on the account, seeing as he was normally very well-dressed and had that sort of swagger about him that many had insisted made him “irresistibly charming” and “a looker.”
(The latter may have been from a drunk girl slurring her words as she tripped over a curb at a party a few weeks prior, but he took compliments no matter where they were from.)
It was a bit of a contest among students, honestly, to see who could be posted the most frequently. Perfectly focused shots of people strolling to class were posted weekly, well-dressed individuals being singled out as the background was blurred away. Viktor scoured the Instagram page not to raise his own self-esteem, but with the express purpose of identifying the burger-making beauty who had consumed his thoughts. If he was a student at Viktor’s college — no guarantee, but he was definitely the right age, working very close to campus, and in a college town with little else to do, so he felt the chances were fairly high — then he would have had to end up in a post somewhere at some point. No one that attractive could possibly avoid the all-seeing camera.
After a solid thirty minutes of investigative scrolling, Viktor was no closer to finding anyone resembling the man. He packed up his things and returned to his dorm room, where his receipt from the night before had been carefully thumbtacked to the wall as a reminder of what he was fighting for, his own version of a locket with the portrait of a significant other tucked inside.
All this to say, since it was only one in the afternoon, he returned to McDonald’s for lunch.
The things he did for love.
This time, he was presentable. His hair was carefully styled in a way that he felt lessened the appearance of his obnoxiously large forehead and his shirt was left slightly unbuttoned, if only to give the impression that he was chill, but not slutty. Serious. He was serious about the McDonald’s Marvel.
He drove carefully through the drive through, placed his order, and pulled to the window, already preparing his dazzling smile to accompany the crisp bills he had pulled out of the wallet he had remembered to bring this time.
When the window slid open, however, it was just some random girl. She was very sweet, but she was definitely not who he was looking for.
Damn it.
He pulled away, looking forlornly at the golden arches in his rearview, already planning his next move.