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Yuri has always been one to reject typically feminine things—even asserting himself and using his anger to appear more "masculine". It's some kind of coping mechanism, Yuuri figures, for when his dysphoria gets bad and the only way he can manage himself is by being rude to everyone possible. It's not a good one, definitely, but Yuuri can't judge. His coping skills have been quite terrible in the past.
At first, Yuuri sees it in the way Yuri's eyes linger on the fancy dresses the models wear in Viktor's stupid modeling shows. Sees it in the way Yuri will catch sight of a girl in a fluffy skirt and sigh.
He figures Yuri won't come out with it outright, so he takes matters into his own hands.
"Yurio, would you like to go shopping with me?"
Yuri opens his mouth like he's going to say Don't call me that, but then he stops in his tracks and just slowly turns. "Why?"
Yuuri shrugs and reaches for his phone. "I just feel like going out for new clothes."
"Just take Viktor with you or something."
Yuuri wrinkles his nose. "They won't give me honest opinions on what I try on," he says. "Every time I step out, no matter what, they'll go, 'Oh, Yuuri, it looks fantastic on you!' even if it looks like shit."
Yuri rolls his eyes, and tries to turn away, but Yuuri quickly grabs his shoulder and urges him forward.
"Please?" he sighs. "I need someone who'll give me an honest opinion. And I know you won't hold back on if I look bad."
Yuri snorts. "That's true." He puts down his cereal and runs a hand through his hair. "Fine. Whatever. You're buying me food on the way back, though."
Yuuri grins, clapping his hands together. "Sure thing!"
They're walking on the street, Yuuri trailing slightly ahead of his companion. He's nearly skipping from how excited he is, and he doesn't even notice Yuri is falling behind until he stops for a crosswalk.
Yuri comes to a stop beside him, hands shoved in his jacket pockets.
"What are you even shopping for?" Yuri asks.
Yuuri hums to himself and looks straight ahead. "Oh, I'm just going to look for some new skirts. Maybe some boots? My good pair got chewed up by Makkachin." He notices the way Yuri tenses beside him, subtle but there, and he raises an eyebrow. "Something wrong?"
"Um... no," Yuri says slowly, and when the crosswalk is free he stares at the ground as he walks.
"Did you want to look for anything while we're there?" Yuuri asks, already knowing what his answer will be.
"No," Yuri replies, but Yuuri picks up on the hesitation in his tone.
"Hm. Alright."
Yuuri's grasp of Russian is increasing, but the lady at the shop speaks so fast that he has to take a few steps back and replay what she just said. Luckily, Yuri pulls through and translates for him, and Yuuri blushes a little in embarrassment at the fact that she was only detailing their latest sales (except, only in the quickest way possible).
When she walks away and lets them explore, Yuuri marvels for a moment in the vast selection of clothes. There's different sections, all kinds of different colors, and Yuuri wonders how he's going to possibly just pick a few skirts when there's so many to be found.
Yuri keeps his face towards the ground as he follows behind Yuuri, making vague comments like That looks ugly or It wouldn't fit whenever Yuuri strokes a shirt or a pair of jeans, but Yuuri notices the way he glances around at different rows, at different items, at different sections. The way he looks conflicted, like his mind is against itself.
Yuuri almost pities him, but he thinks better. He makes a beeline for the skirt section.
Yuri moves particularly slower this time, and Yuuri is already picking out different kinds to try on by the time he walks over. He glances at a lime-green ruffled skirt and snatches it up, his hands full with probably four different kinds.
"You really like skirts," Yuri mumbles from beside him.
Yuuri blinks and turns his head. "I think they're nice. Dresses are cool too."
"Huh..." Yuri says, and looks off to the side, pursing his lips. He's thinking, but he makes an expression like he's disgusted.
Yuuri frowns, and drapes a pair of jeans over his shoulder. "Clothing has no gender, Yurio," he says, catching the other's surprise. "Anyone can wear anything they want." And it's the truth. When he walks towards the dressing room and doesn't see Yuri follow, he pauses, and turns around. "You coming? I need my honest opinion, remember?" He says it in a light, joking tone, but the expression on his face is anything but.
He watches the way Yuri eyes him up and down. He watches the way Yuri pauses in his step.
"Yeah," Yuri says, quietly, and stuffs his hands in his jacket pockets once again as he follows him.
The dressing rooms are big, and Yuuri makes a mental note to revisit this boutique sometime in the future. Yuri sits outside, and Yuuri can hear his leg bouncing from outside, his foot tapping endlessly against the wooden floor.
He tries on the lime-green skirt first, and looks at himself in the mirror. It's refreshing, he thinks as he twirls around and laughs, because for so long he felt trapped in his own body, like someone chained to something they weren't. He'd never felt completely male, but not washed out of it entirely either. There's some days where he feels feminine, like today, and then days where he wants to look like something else. It's strange, maybe, but it's who he is. Katsuki Yuuri doesn't give a fuck about the gender binary, and that's pretty much how it's always been.
He fixes the back of the skirt and steps outside. Yuri, who is sitting with his arms crossed and head lowered, glances up and eyes him from head to toe.
"Well?" Yuuri asks, giving a little spin for good show.
Yuri taps his chin in thought. "Do you have the same skirt in a different color?"
Yuuri nods, and gestures back towards the dressing room. "Yeah, I have a blue one."
"Try that one."
Yuuri does what he's told, and comes back out in the same skirt, only shaded in a dark blue.
Yuri nods thoughtfully. "Blue suits you better."
Yuuri grins and laughs. "See! You're way better at this than Viktor."
"'course I am," Yuri snorts, and turns his head away like he's suddenly embarrassed. "Hurry up with the rest. I'm hungry."
"You just ate two bowls of cereal not even an hour ago."
"So!?"
One by one, each skirt and pair of jeans gets judged. Only two of them are deemed "fucking ugly," while the rest are accepted, even in different colors or styles. When Yuri assumes all is done, he starts to walk towards checkout. But when he sees Yuuri still trailing behind, still searching for skirts, he sighs angrily.
"Are you seriously looking for more skirts?"
Yuuri doesn't reply, and only smiles to himself as he skims through the selections, a certain style deep in his mind. He hears Yuri's insults and complaints getting louder as he walks closer, but they sound distant. In the corner of Yuuri's eye is a skirt that catches his attention, and he tries to not look eager as he darts towards it.
It's a leopard-print hip pleat skirt, with a black ribbon at the back. It's cute, and Yuuri can't hold back his grin when he turns towards Yuri.
Yuri blinks, staring at the skirt with wide eyes.
"Look at it!" Yuuri exclaims excitedly.
Yuri's eyes shift between the skirt and Yuuri's face. "Okay... and?"
"It's perfect! " Yuuri says. "For you!"
Yuri's face falls, and his eyes are wide. "... What?"
"It's definitely your style! You should go try it o—"
"No."
Yuuri makes a confused noise, closing his mouth slowly. "Yurio, I—"
"I'm not gonna try it on." Yuri's voice sounds strained, and he hugs himself, his hands tightening their grip on his arms. "Put it back."
"Clothes have no gender, you know, Yurio. You don't have to be scared or anything."
And, yikes, maybe that was the wrong thing to say, because Yuri's face suddenly gets red with anger and he's clenching his fists. "I'm not scared! " he shouts, catching the attention of other customers and employees. "I'm just not gonna wear one of your stupid skirts!"
Yuuri takes a deep breath, biting his lip. "Alright. I'm sorry. I just thought it would look good on you." He turns around, and he's already regretting everything when he starts to put it back. "Wearing a skirt doesn't make you a girl," he then says, softer, and when he hears no reply he assumes Yuri didn't hear him. Yuuri stands on his toes to put the skirt back where he found it, and his hands are shaking. God, he's so stupid for thinking he could help Yuri when he didn't even want to be helped. He—
"Wait."
Yuuri whirls around in surprise, and blinks at the boy in front of him who has his arms crossed, his shoulders tight, his head lowered like he's ashamed.
"Give... give me the skirt." His face is red.
Yuuri tries to hide his joy by biting his lower lip. He reaches back for the skirt, and looks down at Yuri. "Are you sure—"
"Just give it to me before I change my mind," Yuri spits, even his ears red.
Yuuri nods and watches as Yuri takes it from his hands, and follows his rushing form into the dressing room.
Yuri stares at his reflection in the mirror, trying to swallow down the nausea that rises in his throat. The skirt matches his jacket, and it goes down to his knees. The more he stares the worse he looks, so he shifts his gaze downwards, looking at the skirt itself.
It's light, he thinks, and free. He grabs the sides of it and lifts them before dropping them, watching in curious wonder how they fall and sway around his legs.
His mind flashes back to when he was little—when his mother wouldn't let him cut his hair and made him dress in pretty pink dresses. When his grandfather took him to his very first haircut, when he bought him what could be classified as "boys' clothes," no matter how much everyone around him resented it.
He suddenly felt like crying, and he felt like he was going to throw up. He was wearing a skirt, one of the very things he's always hated.
Yuri looks back at his reflection. His hair is shorter, his chest is flat from his binder. He looks like a boy, he thinks. A boy in a skirt.
A boy in a pretty skirt.
"Yurio?" comes Yuuri's voice, followed by a light knock on the door. Yuri flinches at the sound. "Are you alright? You've been in there a while."
"F—Fine," Yuri replies, cursing himself when his voice fails him. "I'm... coming out."
He takes a few steps forward, wrapping his arms around himself. His hands hover over the handle of the door, and he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath before swinging it open.
Yuuri is sitting on the bench, bags on either side of him. He glances up once he hears Yuri come out, and then his jaw drops. Yuri tenses up in anticipation, and turns his head away. All of a sudden, he's more embarrassed than ever before.
"Oh my God..." Yuuri whispers. "You look—"
"Stupid," Yuri mutters.
"—amazing!"
"Huh?"
Yuuri stands up quickly, and claps his hands together twice. He's nearly jumping in place, smile so wide his face might actually split in two. "Yurio, you look great! I knew it would fit perfectly!"
"I—" Yuri stammers, and crosses his arms. "Thanks..."
"Do you like it?"
Yuri looks up, not expecting the question. But Yuuri is awaiting an answer, and he doesn't know what to say. He opens his mouth, but no sound comes out. Looking down at his feet, his eyes catch the hem of the skirt.
It's... not that bad.
"I... like it," Yuri finally says, swallowing down his nausea. "It's..." He can't finish his sentence, and he inhales shakily. He feels like he's about to cry, and he scrunches his nose.
"Yes! I'll buy it for you!" Yuuri exclaims. "Oh, I'm so happy!" He walks up to Yuri, and eyes him up and down. "How do you feel?"
Yuri tenses up when Yuuri puts his hands on his shoulders. "I don't know." It's an honest answer.
"Wearing this doesn't make you a girl," Yuuri says. "You're still a boy."
Yuri hangs his head, and God, he's so stupid. Tears well in his eyes, because it's all so overwhelming, and his heart is pounding in his chest.
"I hate feeling like this," he says, and his voice cracks in the middle.
Yuuri reaches over to hug him, and Yuri doesn't push him away.
"I know."
Yuuri ends up buying the skirt and Yuri a crepe. They walk into the apartment, greeted by the sight of Viktor dancing across the wooden floor in only a tank top and boxers. There's some kind of English pop music blasting throughout the house, and Yuuri makes a mental note to apologize to the neighbors later.
Yuuri sighs. "I can't believe I'm in love with this person."
Yuri snorts.
"Yuuri, dance with me!" Viktor says as soon as they catch Yuuri's eye, and grabs his hands to pull him forward. They only laugh at Yuuri's startled exclamations, spinning him around and nearly stumbling into the couch.
Yuri just sighs, shaking his head, and leaves the two alone to go eat his crepe in the kitchen.
Yuri ends up wearing the skirt the next day. Once Viktor sees it, their reaction is definitely over the top, just like them.
"Yurio, your skirt looks absolutely adorable! Almost as cute as Yuuri's skirts, though. He reacts so nicely when I reach under and—"
"STOP BEING NASTY!"