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Yuuri was a patient man. Several years of dealing with Phichit’s antics and a lifetime of social anxiety had taught him how to wait. And he did – past his engagement (and didn’t that still give him butterflies), past the Grand Prix Final, past his move to Russia.
He had never forgotten about Victor’s time with Mari.
Really, his hands had been tied when it came to his family. He had whined rather petulantly at his mother about the baby pictures, but she had just pressed her hands to his cheeks and said what a cute baby her Yuuri was and that maybe he should take some pictures with him.
“For Vicchan!” Yuuri had been mortified at the suggestion. His father had been no help either – he even started listing which pictures he would be willing to part with.
No matter what they did, they were his parents. They had always loved and supported him. He would just have to let them go.
It was no easier getting even with Mari. Nothing seemed to truly faze her, not even the knowledge that Yuuri had sat down, thought of every embarrassing thing she had done when they were children and told them to Victor.
“I’m not marrying him, I don’t need to worry.”
“Chris was there too!” Mari had just smirked.
“That would’ve worked, if I was Minako-sensei.”
That only left Victor. Yuuri had been patient all the way to St. Petersburg and his new life. He had taken the appropriate few weeks to be giddy about how his life had turned out – he had pulled his career back and won silver, he lived with Victor Nikiforov. He was going to marry Victor Nikiforov and was reminded it near daily. Somewhere, the fanboy in him had been excited screaming the entire time.
But he settled. They fell into a routine and the screaming stopped. He got to know the other skaters at the rink – aside from Yurio, he had never really spoken to them. He never had the chance to really get to know Georgi in China and he had only heard of Mila in stories. He slowly started getting over his slight fear of Yakov. He almost let it go.
Almost.
Mila had insisted they all go out after practice for dinner, probably to have a real chance to get to know the rink’s latest addition. Victor had insisted that it would be good for Yuuri to sit down with them all and start seeing himself as part of their group. Yuuri was trying to do new things, and he was going to see these people every day, so it seemed okay. He could always just go home if things got too much.
Mila had a terrible habit of winding Yurio up, and Yuuri couldn’t always handle how loud everything would get sometimes. Especially when it was loud and fast in a language he couldn’t understand.
But it seemed Yuuri was the centre of attention, much to Victor’s glee and Yurio’s annoyance. Georgi had been easy enough to talk with – they talked about Yuuri’s home in Japan, his time in America, Georgi’s new girlfriend. Yuuri hoped this one would work out.
Mila had gone slightly further – asking about wedding plans and would Yuuri make them katsudon, because Victor and Yurio had both gushed about it.
“I didn’t gush.” Yurio had helpfully interjected, but Mila just laughed and ruffled his hair.
“Get off me, you hag!”
“You were gushing; you both keep saying it’s so good! I want to try it now!”
Yuuri had promised to have them all over for katsudon at some point. That seemed to settle the budding argument.
“I mean, we haven’t heard Victor go on about something like that since the banquet at Sochi!” Normally Yuuri was prepared to laugh in embarrassment and try to change the subject whenever Sochi came up, but Victor had tensed slightly at what Mila said.
“Mila…”
“That was different – he moped after Sochi.” Georgi chimed in. Victor just looked slightly betrayed by them both.
“That’s right! Even you weren’t that dramatic.” Georgi looked slightly put out by that, but seemed to decide it wasn’t worth arguing. Yuuri found himself suddenly very interested in what had happened after the banquet.
“Victor was moping?”
“Yuuri! Don’t make them talk about that!” Victor whined, pulling on Yuuri’s arm a little. Yuuri leaned into him and spoke softly, just so Victor could hear.
“Baby pictures, Victor. We’re even now.” Smirking, Yuuri moved back just in time to hear Yurio demand they go be gross somewhere else.
“I think it’s nice, Victor spent so much time telling us he was so in love with Yuuri from the banquet. It’s nice to see them together.” Georgi was resting on his hand and smiling at them. Yuuri was realising that he was actually quite sweet, dramatic break-ups aside. Mila had stood up and for a moment Yuuri worried it would be over and Victor would only have suffered a fraction of Yuuri’s mortification, but instead of moving she held her hands to her chest, trying to look as despairing as possible.
“Why hasn’t he called me, Mila?! I told him to call me in the morning, I thought we had something! Mila how do you get boys to call you?!” Even Yurio was laughing. Victor had his arms crossed and pouted at Yuuri, who was almost wheezing. He knew Victor could be dramatic and he definitely liked attention, but he had a hard time seriously picturing five time figure skating champion Victor Nikiforov draping himself over the barriers at the rink, whining about the drunk man he had spent an evening with once.
“I don’t care about my programmes, Yakov – my heart’s broken! I met the most beautiful man ever and he won’t talk to me! We had so much fun, why doesn’t he want to see me again?!” Georgi had joined in now; probably glad to not be on the receiving end of being mocked for his love life. Yuuri could feel tears in his eyes and his stomach hurt with how hard he was laughing, but from the corner of his (now blurry) eyes he could see Victor starting to go into a full blown sulk.
“Oh my god stop he actually said that! I remember!” Yurio was having fun at least. Anything done at Yuuri or Victor’s expense seemed to perk him right up. Yuuri wouldn’t be surprised if this entire conversation ended up being relayed to Otabek. He was glad Yurio was making friends.
He listened to Mila, Georgi and Yurio take turns mimicking Victor’s heartache before waving at them to stop.
“Please, I can’t breathe, I can’t believe it was that bad.” He certainly felt more comfortable around them, though he was sure it would all turn around once Victor told them about his fanboy days.
Apparently they were trapped in some embarrassment vengeance war now.
Yuuri leaned on Victor who made a point of turning his head away, still pouting and huffing at him. Yuuri smiled up at him, knowing it was a low blow – Victor always caved when Yuuri did it.
“Hey, I think it’s cute. I’m glad you liked me too.”
“It isn’t funny, I didn’t know you forgot! I thought it didn’t mean anything to you.” Yuuri nuzzled his arm a little, earning a grimace from Yurio.
“Of course it would, if I knew it happened.” He leaned even further into Victor’s space, making it harder for Victor to keep avoiding looking at him.
“I love you, Victor.” Again, a low move. But it was true, and a sure-fire way to cheer Victor up. Sure enough, he slowly looked back at Yuuri. Victor was trying his best to keep frowning but his mouth was twitching like he wanted to smile.
“You’re so mean to me, Yuuri. But I still love you anyway.”
A coat hit them both square in the face.
“Seriously, can you two do this shit somewhere else? You’re so gross.”
Yuuri thought he might like it in Russia.