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At precisely four in the afternoon, when Yuuri had his nose buried in his Art History textbook and was violently scribing last-minute notes for an upcoming test, it began to pour.

The weather forecast had predicted sun with a few scattered clouds for the entire week. However, it seemed that campus had cleared out in the past hour as clouds rolled in and signs of a storm approached- all, that was, except for Yuuri, who had been so engrossed in his studying that he didn't even notice.

When the rain arrived, it gave no warning. One second it was humid and warm, and the next buckets of rain were being pelted on the poor, unsuspecting Yuuri and his scattered note pages.

Needless to say Yuuri was stunned, but he came to a much more distressing realization as soon as he saw the pages and pages of painstakingly inked notes be reduced to black smears in a matter of seconds.

Scrabling to his feet, Yuuri tried to cram the notes into his backpack to save them, but the zipper stuck and by the time he'd forced it open the black ink was unintelligible. Fear gave way to crushing disappointment as he kneeled on the soaked ground and paged through his soggy notes for anything legible.

There was nothing. In just a few seconds, his hours of notes had become meaningless ink splats on wet notebook paper. Despair rose in his chest as he closed his eyes and let out a long stream of Japanese profanities under his breath.

Click.

The unmistakable sound of a camera shutter made Yuuri's entire body freeze with surprise. He cut off his list of foreign expletives, slowly and fearfully lifting his eyes to the perpetrator.

Unsurprisingly, Yuuri found himself looking straight into a camera lens. As soon as he made eye contact, the shutter went off yet again, capturing his expression that could only be perceived as unadulterated shock mingled with the remnants of despair. Struggling to regain his thoughts, Yuuri lifted his free hand to furiously push his rain-soaked hair out of his eyes, squinting past the droplets in his glasses at the camera as his surprise gave way to offense. Fortunately, the camera lowered, but the face behind it did little to ease his nerves.

The boy, to put it bluntly, probably should have been on the other side of his camera lens. Silver hair framed a face that could have been carved straight from marble for how smooth and flawless it was, and a pair of bright blue eyes seemed to look right through him as a playful smile flirted at the man's lips.

"Sorry," the model boy said, though his twinkling eyes told a different story. "I find photos to be much more... raw when they aren't posed. Like you're capturing something real and personal instead of just imitating it."

"I...." Still struggling from his shock, Yuuri desperately tried to form words. "I don't...."

The model boy giggled then, a soft but enthusiastic sound that was pleasing to listen to and a bit overwhelming at the same time. Yuuri realized that he was no longer under the relentless downpour of rain anymore, and glanced up to see the umbrella the photographer had been holding shielding him.

"It's a dumb photographer thing, I guess," the model boy explained. "Think of it like, the difference between Kraft macaroni and store brand macaroni. You'd prefer Kraft to the store brand because it's more authentic, instead of just a cheap imitation."

"Actually, I prefer store brand." Yuuri finally found his voice and he had to waste it on such a pointless statement. At the photographer's raised eyebrows, he amended quickly, "I mean, Kraft is good, but I can't really afford it because... living on a college budget and all. I'm used to store brand, anyways."

The photographer blinked at him before smiling brightly. Without warning, he grabbed Yuuri by the hand. His skin was smooth, and very warm- or maybe that was just Yuuri. Biting his lip, he glanced up at the model boy.

"C'mon," model boy urged. "Let's get out of this rain. I'll treat you to coffee to make up for taking your picture and scaring you."

Yuuri squinted, trying to judge whether he should agree, but it seemed model boy had different plans because he simply towed Yuuri behind him as he practically bounced away. Yuuri could only stuff the rest of his ruined notes in his bag before hurrying after him, trying his best to stay out of the rain and under his umbrella.

The walk there was not as long as Yuuri expected, though they took a lot of strange turns that probably would have made him suspicious if he had been in any mind to question it. The boy chattered on about the emotions behind photography and how changing angle could reflect an entirely different story, but Yuuri wasn't really listening- he was just enjoying the way his voice sounded, bright and chipper, but with a smooth undercurrent that was proof of his maturity. He had to be around Yuuri's age.

The boy pulled him into a door Yuuri hadn't even seen that was painted black, and a blast of heat hit him in the face. Yuuri blinked as he adjusted to the lighting of the coffee shop while the boy shook his umbrella off out the door and then placed it in the umbrella holder.

The coffee shop, like most, was very homely and comforting. A soft golden glow surrounded the place, which had a few tables scattered around as well as booths. A barista around his age was poring over his cellphone, but when he looked up and saw them a smile lit up his face.

"If it isn't Viktor!" The barista typed one last message before tucking his phone away, coming around the counter to greet them. He clapped a hand on the photographer's shoulder, who was busy fiddling with his camera. "Still carrying around that ancient thing?"

"It's authentic!" The boy, who Yuuri presumed to be Viktor, stopped pushing buttons to scowl playfully at the blond barista. "It's nice to run into you, Chris."

"Everything is authentic to you," the barista- Chris- retorted with the same warm mocking tone. "And you know it's my shift. I see you brought a friend, though."

Yuuri stiffened when the attention was turned to him, and a pair of catlike green eyes assessed him for a few silent seconds. His heavy gaze would have felt a little intrusive if it weren't for the friendly smile quirking his lips. After a moment of scrutiny, Chris grinned and patted him on the cheek.

"You found a cute one, Viktor," Chris said, turning to the photographer. "I'm almost tempted to woo him away from you."

"Nobody's wooing anyone," Viktor responded lightly, his gaze skirting towards Yuuri who was as red all the way down to his neck and had gained a sudden interest in playing with the strings on his sweatsr. "Anyways, this is Chris, if you didn't already know. He's my friend, even though he's weird."

Yuuri lifted his gaze to Chris, who was still grinning widely. So many new people in a few minutes- it was a little overwhelming, but he wasn't wholly opposed to it. Especially when they both looked like freaking models.

"It's nice to meet you, Chris." 

"Enchanté," Chris purred back, draping an arm over Yuuri's shoulder casually even though Yuuri went completely still. "And would I have the pleasure of knowing your name?"

"Chris," Viktor whined. "I wanted to learn his name first! And you can't woo him with French."

Flustered, Yuuri ducked his head and tried to shuffle out from Chris' arm. "I-I'm Yuuri. Katsuki Yuuri."

"What a cute name," Chris said, mercifully removing his arm but not his scrutinizing gaze. "Fitting for such a cute face, don't you think, Viktor?"

Even though Yuuri was more than overwhemed by his current situation, he couldn't help stealing a glance at Viktor. The boy's mouth parted and then shut as if biting off his own words before he sighed and shook his head, nudging Chris with his elbow. 

"I think you're coming onto him too strong. Why don't you go make me two of the usual and do your job instead of harassing my new friend?" Viktor's smile was light and playful, and sl was the responding scowl on Chris' face.

Chris made some retort while moving back around the bar, but Yuuri couldn't hear him past his whirling thoughts. Viktor was calling him a friend after meeting him only five minutes ago? Did Viktor like him enough to be friends immediately or was he just friends with every odd stranger? If so, how many strangers did he bring to this place-

"Yuuri," Viktor said, snapping him out of his thoughts as he tapped Yuuri on the forehead lightly. 

There was something about the way he said it that made Yuuri shiver, but not in a necessarily bad way, which was a lot to consider.

"Are you listening to me?" At Yuuri's sheepish look, Viktor smirked. "I said, you're pretty soaked. You can change into my jacket."

"Oh, no, that's fine," Yuuri refuted quickly, even though the wetness of his clothes was beginning to seep into his bones. There was no way he could take Viktor's clothes when they'd met only a few minutes ago, and he was probably just being polite. "I'll be okay."

What Yuuri wasn't expecting was for Viktor's face to fall in an almost petulant frown, almost as if he was disappointed in being turned down.

"You're going to catch a cold if you stay in that," Viktor argued. "And I have two layers underneath it, so it's no problem. Consider it a trade for the photos I took."

Yuuri opened his mouth to argue, but of course his words came out as a sneeze, which he just barely managed to conceal into his shirt instead of spraying his nosestuffs all over poor Viktor. When he finally regained his senses, Viktor was pulling off his sweatshirt and dropping it in his arms.

For a moment he swore that Viktor's eyes avoided his, and if he squinted he could almost make out a faint redness around Viktor's ears. However, Viktor grabbed him by the shoulders and spun him towards the bathrooms before he could look any closer.

"Go ahead. I'll wait out here for you," Viktor promised. When Yuuri glanced over his shoulder, Viktor was already plodding towards a booth and scrolling through his camera.

Sighing in defeat, Yuuri took the sweater and ducked into the men's room, which was a single stall. He peeled off the freezing, wet sweatshirt and the tee underneath came off with it.

The blast of the heater immediately scoured his skin, but it was a nice burn and Yuuri quickly slid into Viktor's sweatshirt. It was big on Viktor, but it nearly dwarfed him, the sleeves going way past his fingers and the edge of it exposing a bit more of his collarbones than he was used to. Still, there was no way he was going to put that soaking wet tee back on.

The sweatshirt cocooned him with warmth, and when Yuuri hugged his arms around himself to warm up faster he caught a distinctly Viktor smell mingled with his deodorant that smelled like cinnamon and coffee. 

In spite of himself, Yuuri checked himself in the mirror before leaving, pushing his mostly-dried hair out of his eyes and wiping the rest of the rain and smudges from his glasses. When he looked presentable enough, he squeezed the water out of his clothes in the sink and grabbed his backpack, heading out.

"You can hang your clothes on the coatrack," Chris called from behind the bar, poking at a machine and barely looking up. "Nobody's using it this time of year anyways."

Yuuri murmured a thanks and did as instructed, before glancing around the coffee shop almost hesitantly. When his gaze settled on Viktor perched at the booth toying with his camera, he had to supress a relieved smile.

He didn't leave.

Yuuri made his way over to the booth, but Viktor was so engrossed in his device that he didn't even look up when Yuuri peered over his shoulder. He was staring at the screen of his camera, which reflected an image of a boy-

No, it was him. Yuuri almost didn't recognize himself at first, and suddenly he understood what Viktor meant about a certain angle changing the entire outlook on somebody, because the person in that photo was almost unrecognizable at first glance.

Viktor had managed to capture him in a way that was enthralling. Raindrops were suspended dangerously on the tips of his hair, which fell in his face as he bent over an unseen object (his notes), but they never fell. Yuuri's eyes were closed, a dozen tiny stars dotting his lashes from the rain, and his lips were parted in a quiet prayer (or rather a stream of profanity). The camera was focused on him, but a soft golden glow from behind him haloed in face with a soft light that cast all kinds of shadows on his face, making it seem a lot more angular and yet also softer at the same time.

It was like looking at a painting. 

In the picture, he could see the emotion that Viktor had talked about, the kind that couldn't be replicated with posing and a hundred different camera angles. All of the despair was written across his face like a tattoo, and the photograph depicted it perfectly. It was real.

"Wow," Yuuri breathed, against his better judgement.

Viktor, who had beem completely unaware of his presence, jerked as if shot. His head snapped up and wild blue eyes met Yuuri's, wide with shock. His expression was somewhat guilty, almost comically so, and before he could stifle it a soft laugh fell from Yuuri's mouth. Viktor's eyes only grew wider before a timid smile fought its way onto his face and he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.

"Oops?"

Filled with renewed confidence (and a bubbly feeling, because Viktor had been looking at him, hadn't he? Or was he just admiring his skill?), Yuuri slid into the booth next to Viktor instead of across from him, his legs brushing against Viktor's as he scooted to make room that sent a shiver up his spine.

"It's a really good photo," Yuuri said casually, gesturing to the camera that Viktor seemed to be trying to shuffle out of view with embarassment. "I see what you mean about Kraft versus store brand. That was definitely Kraft-level photography."

Viktor, for the first time since he'd met him (granted, it had only been about a half hour), seemed to be at a loss for words, especially when his gaze drifted down and took in Yuuri's appearance. The platinum-haired boy seemed to do a double take before meeting Yuuri's eyes with an abashed smile.

Cute. Viktor was adorable, when he was like this- hopelessly flustered and caught in the act of admiring his photography.

"I... I only did half of the work," Viktor said, his hands skirting in his lap as if searching for something before he reached up and ran a hand through his hair, messing up the neat silver strands. "The photographer is just the recorder. It's the subject who builds the picture. And you basically dropped this photo right in my lap."

Yuuri bit his lip thoughtfully, stealing another glance at the photo. "What about the other photo?"

"The other one?" Viktor blinked before suddenly a wide smile spread across his face, and he tucked the camera behind him defensively. "That's for my eyes only."

Yuuri scowled. "But it's a picture of me! If I did half the work, shouldn't I be able to see it?"

"Nope." Viktor smiled slyly at him. "If I showed you, you wouldn't let me take photos of you ever again."

Fear flooded his stomach, but it was quickly chased by giddiness. Viktor wanted to take more photos of him? Why did that made him feel so dizzy with happiness?

"Maybe I just won't let you take anymore by standard," Yuuri said, crossing his arms in protest. "I'll file a restraining order."

"Ha! As if you could ever stay away from me." A teasing smile tugged at Viktor's lips, and yeah, he was definitely flirting with Yuuri now, wasn't he? Why else would he look down at him through his lashes with that knowing glint in his eyes? Yuuri's heart skipped a beat in his chest.

"W-Well," Yuuri tried to stutter out, but before he could finish something in Viktor's eyes changed and he lifted a hand to graze his fingers across Yuuri's cheek, his touch fleeting and gentle. Whatever words Yuuri was going to say died in his throat as he met Viktor's gaze.

"Yuuri," Viktor said quietly, his fingers moving to tuck a strand of hair behind Yuuri's ear as he leaned a bit closer. "Would you-"

The sound of a blender from behind the bar made them both jump, Viktor's hand falling from Yuuri's face back to his side as he whipped his head towards the offending sound. Once the initial shock died down Yuuri was left feeling flustered and hot, and he didn't doubt it had something to do with how close he had been to Viktor not a second before.

"Sorry, lovebirds!" Chris' voice was entirely unapologetic, and barely concealed giggles could be heard over the aggressive whir of the blender. "Didn't want to ruin the moment, but these fraps aren't going to make themselves."

Viktor muttered something that sounded relatively unfriendly under his breath, but it also wasn't English. Yuuri glanced back at him, surprised.

"What language was that?"

"Huh?" Viktor looked up, caught off-guard, before a sheepish smile crept onto his face. Was it just Yuuri's imagination going wild, or did he looked just as riled up as Yuuri felt? "Oh. It's not a friendly one, I suppose."

Yuuri considered pressing further, but then Chris came around the bar whistling a gleeful tone as he placed two fraps in front of them and gave a knowing smirk. "Viktor here speaks a good amount of Russian, but he only ever uses it in replacement of things he considers himself too decent to say in English."

"I do not," Viktor protested, but it was meek, and Chris just grinned knowingly. Viktor sighed and shrank back. "I mean, I do sometimes. I just didn't want to taint Yuuri's ears."

"Saving it for the bedroom, then?" Chris' eyebrow raised, and Viktor just scowled. 

Yuuri, however, was completely unused to the sexual implications Chris made and turned an even brighter shade of red, subconsciously sinking further into Viktor's huge sweater like he wanted to melt into it. Still, learning that Viktor spoke Russian was actually exciting, and even more so was that they both used foreign languages to curse.

"I speak Japanese," Yuuri offered, desperate to change the subject. "I don't use it much, though, not since I came to America to study. It comes up every so often, though."

Viktor glanced at him, surprised, but a dangerous curl formed at Chris' lips as he leaned in towards Yuuri and whispered, "Not to name names, but I know a certain fanatic photographer who may or may not have mentioned having a language kin-"

Before Chris could finish, Viktor whacked him across the back of the head- not too gently, but enough to swat him off. Chris rubbed his head with a sly smile, but retreated anyways.

"Anyways," Chris continued as if nothing had happened, "I happen to be a native Swiss, so I guess you could say we're a bilingual trio."

"Trilingual," Viktor corrected, a brow raised.

"Oh, dear me, how could I forget." At Yuuri's inquisitive glance, Chris said, "Viktor also speaks French fluently. Sometimes I think he learned it just so I couldn't call him a connard to his face."

"Va te faire enculere," Viktor said pleasantly, earning a laugh from Chris. The blond barista patted Viktor on the head before turning back to the bar.

"You guys enjoy your fraps," Chris said over his shoulder. "I'm going to hide in the stock room so I don't have to watch you suck face all night. Please don't defile my benches."

Viktor responded in what sounded like Russian, and it didn't sound half as friendly as French did. However, he turned back to Yuuri with his same bright smile and nudged his drink towards him.

"Try it! It's my favorite," Viktor said enthusiastically.

Yuuri obliged, if not a bit hesitantly. If Viktor was trying to rope him into some weird spiked drink, doing it with a friend at some obscure coffee shop wasn't a terrible way to go about it. Still, Viktor seemed sincere, and his smile was genuinely excited.

There were also video cameras all over campus. He should be fine.

Still, Yuuri took Viktor's cup instead and took a sip out of it, lifting his eyebrows daringly. Viktor just blinked in surprise, but any other reactions were totally lost as Yuuri drowned in sugary heaven.

Unlike the fraps he'd had before, this one wasn't too iced or too sweet. It was smoothly blended and had a distinctly mocha taste, but with a hint of something spicy like mint. It was pulled off subtly enough to be delicious, and Yuuri found himself taking a longer sip than intended, savoring the taste. As soon as he swallowed, the caffeine and sugar went straight to his brain.

"So?" Viktor's smile turned anxious, like a puppy waiting for praise. "Is it good?"

"It's amazing!" Yuuri smiled enthusiastically. "I love the mint, it adds a nice kick to the sugar."

Viktor positively beamed, radiating happiness. "I'm glad! I was the one who originally told Chris to add mint extract. It's like peppermint and chocolate, right?"

Yuuri nodded, his tongue darting out to catch the excess coffee left on his lips. Viktor's eyes, which had been glued to his face to begin with to gauge his reaction, dropped to his mouth almost automatically and stayed there for a beat too long, his gaze shifting to the same way it had been before that made Yuuri's stomach twist.

He was beginning to like that look, which was a little scary.

"Um," Yuuri cleared his throat, causing Viktor to jolt and meet his eyes. "This is totally unrelated, but are you taking Art History?"

Viktor stared at him for a moment, confused, before smiling a bit uncomfortably. "Actually, I'm not a student."

If it were possible, Yuuri's jaw would have hit the floor. Fortunately he reigned himself in and tried to be civil, tilting his head. "You aren't? You seem to be my age- oh...."

Yuuri wanted to hit himself for how insensitive he was being. Not everybody could afford college, and people didn't go for personal reasons, too- who was he to stick his nose in Viktor's business? Shame flooded him and he suddenly had the strong urge to bury himself where he stood.

"Ah, no! It isn't what you're thinking," Viktor said quickly, catching his expression. "I dropped out of uni after a couple of months, it wasn't really... what I wanted. I'm going to try and get into an art college next year, so right now I'm portfolio building."

Viktor's fingers tapped against his camera in explanation and Yuuri suddenly felt pretty stupid, but he hid it with a nod and a tight lipped smile.

"So, what is it you needed with Art History?" Viktor asked. "Maybe I can help, I took some related classes in high school."

"It's just, my notes were kind of destroyed when it rained out of nowhere," Yuuri said, glancing at his legs with embarassment. "Or I guess I was too busy studying to realize it was going to rain. I have a test coming up on eighteenth century art styles and I'm almost guaranteed to fail, so losing my notes put me in a bad place. I was hoping to borrow yours if you were in the class, but... yeah. It's fine though! I can borrow somebody else's."

Right. Like he had friends to borrow notes from. The closest he had was Phichit, who lived hundreds of miles away. Not happening.

"Eighteenth century art?" Viktor actually looked kind of excited, sitting up and turning more towards Yuuri. "Like Jean-Honore Fragonard's The Swing? I think I can help you there- I know a lot about rococo style art, and I could probably help with the neoclassic stuff too. I mean, if you want?"

Yuuri didn't have to be asked twice. He pulled out the remainder of his salvageable notes, his textbook, and they got to work. By the time eight o clock came around they had plowed their way to Death of Marat and Yuuri felt a little more confident about his grade, if only slightly.

However, it was exhausting work, and both fraps had been emptied within the first hour. Yuuri was torn between falling asleep where he sat and crawling off to the bathroom to catch some shut eye. Studying had always exhausted him.

"Yuuri," Viktor said, nudging him slightly. Throughout the study session they'd somehow moved impossibly closer, until Viktor's thigh was flush against his, and despite the casualness of it Yuuri felt every point of contact like it was electrified.

"I'm awake," Yuuri insisted, sitting up a little even though he didn't feel very awake. He passed Viktor a weary smile. "Sorry."

"Don't apologize, it's a lot of information." Viktor waved a hand dismissively. "I think that pretty much sums up what's on the study guide, actually."

"Really?" Yuuri glanced it over and realizes that Viktor was right. "Wow. Thank you... I doubt I could have gotten this done without you. I owe you one, Viktor."

"Nonsense-" Viktor started, before hesitating, his modest smile fading into a more thoughtful one. "Well, there is one way you could help me out in return, but only if you want to. It's more of a personal thing."

Yuuri fell still, lifting his gaze to Viktor's nervously. After all this time he was worried Viktor still had ulterior motives hidden somewhere, that he was trying to woo him like Chris said. But Yuuri also wasn't sure if he would be totally opposed to that.

"Could you..." Viktor paused, licking his lips nervously. "Could you maybe pose for a few photos sometime this week? I can't explain it, but with you the photos kind of take themselves- I'd really love to set up a studio and maybe add some of the photos to my portfolio. But only if you're okay with it. I promise no more surprise pictures."

Yuuri visibly relaxed, relief flooding his bones. He didn't know why he expected Viktor to try and make a move on him after only knowing each other a few hours. Viktor had proven himself to be kind, selfless, and fair in the time he'd known him. 

"Sure!" Yuuri smiled when Viktor's eyes lit up. "I'd love to."

"You're the best!" Viktor moved forward and wrapped his arms around Yuuri, hugging him tightly. Viktor's distinct smell washed oved him yet again, spicy but also comforting, and Yuuri leaned into the touch. "We can exchange numbers and find out a good date once you've checked your schedule later, since you're tired now. There's a studio in town I can use, but I also have one at my own flat if you feel comfortable going there?"

Viktor pulled back from the hug to search Yuuri's eyes, and Yuuri considered it before responding. "I'd prefer your flat. It's more private, and you'd probably have to rent a studio, right? It'd be easier to just go there."

"Great!" Viktor smiled brightly, clapping his hands together as if he could barely contain his excitement.

It wasn't until Viktor had walked him back to his dorm that Yuuri realized he had just signed up for what could be hours spent with just the two of them in Viktor's apartment. Viktor was a total stranger, and yet... Yuuri felt comfortable with him. He doubted Viktor would pull anything on him, and it was a strange trust to have, he wasn't used to it.

Still. Hours. Just him and Viktor.

He was both excited and terrified, and he barely got any sleep that night, especially after Viktor texted him an hour later, a simple 'hi!' with a heart emoji that made his own heart race.

It was going to be an interesting week.

Yuuri showed up to Viktor's flat the following Sunday, rocking back and forth anxiously on his heels. His last text from Viktor said that the door was unlocked, and he confirmed the room number like a hundred times, but Yuuri was still anxious. He had half a mind to knock anyways, even though Viktor said he was setting up the studio and wouldn't hear.

Taking a deep breath, Yuuri uttered a prayer and turned the handle, walking through the door and shutting it quietly behind him.

And he was immediately jumped. 

At first Yuuri swore he was being kidnapped, but when he reakized his assailant was brown with curly fur and a big, floppy tongue he relaxed and tried to ward off the licks raining down on his face in between giggles.

The poodle woofed happily at him in response, placing his paws on Yuuri's chest. He reminded Yuuri of his puppy back at home in Japan, who he saw occasionally on visits- except this one was much, much bigger and a lot older.

"Makkachin!" A familiar voice chided the dog from nearby and the poodle sat up, ears pricking. "What have I said about mauling my guests?"

Makkachin whined before giving Yuuri a parting lick and bouncing off of him obediently. Yuuri sat up, smiling even as he wiped the drool from his face. When he looked up, he saw Viktor standing above him, holding a hand out.

While Viktor was handsome by normal standards, he seemed especially well-put today, his silver hair arranged neatly and wearing another sweatshirt that hugged his body in all the right places. But... the skinny jeans... Yuuri was about a thigh flex away from having a stroke.

Swallowing and tearing his eyes away from Viktor's toned legs, he accepted the hand and let Viktor pull him up- he had to fight the urge to swoon into his arms and instead held himself straight, looking anywhere but at Viktor.

"Hey," Yuuri said quietly, earning a bright smile in the corner of his eye. Oh shit, now he was looking. And he couldn't look away. 

"Hey." Viktor echoed him with sparkling eyes and grabbed Yuuri by the hand, the familiar warmth soothing some of his nerves. "The studio is in the guest room. I never use it anyways."

As Viktor pulled him to the studio, Yuuri's gaze darted around the flat, taking it in. Viktor clearly wasn't having a hard time financially- clearly he ate Kraft macaroni- and his apartment reflected it, stylish but also unique.

Suddenly they entered a darker room with very little light and- wow. The room was much larger than he'd expectd, but that wasn't the surprising part. A large black backdrop was rolled across the floor and a camera was perched on a tripod, with various lights and equipment scattered around the room. This was on an entirely different level than what Yuuri had expected: something simple and neat, not a legitimate studio. Viktor looked like a professional.

Yuuri swallowed nervously and fidgeted with his sleeves. A single white sofa lay in the center, but there were other furniture items out to the side. It was the real deal.

Viktor, on the other hand, seemed unfazed as he instructed Yuuri to remove his shoes and guided hin to the sofa, sitting him down. He offered a warm smile before going off to adjust the lightning and other gizmos Yuuri didn't understand.

"Feel free to get comfortable!" Viktor called.

As if. Still, Yuuri scooted over to the corner of the couch and watched as Viktor set up his equipment with skilled hands, arranging the lamps just so and changing the camera angle. After a few minutes Viktor gave it all a once over and then turned to Yuuri.

"Have you ever posed for a photoshoot before, Yuuri?"

Yuuri shook his head, cheeks hot. He supposed it was obvious, then, but Viktor didn't mock him and only smiled again. 

"That's understandable," Viktor assured him, moving to his side and actually sitting on the couch beside Yuuri, tucking his knees under him. "It's hard to get comfortable at first. Let's talk about something first, like... how did your test go?"

Yuuri immediately sat up, grinning. "I passed with flying colors! Thanks to you, of course."

"That's awesome!" Viktor beamed at him before pausing and tikting his head.

"What?"

"I had an idea." Viktor rolled off of the couch and moved to the camera, adjusting its position so that it was closer and changing the angle. "Hey, Makkachin seemed to really like you- have you ever had a dog before?"

"I have a puppy at home," Yuuri said with a tender smile, reflecting on the little fluff ball of a poodle his parents had gotten him at graduation. "His name is Vicchan. He's a bundle of energy, like Makkachin but all that excitement is crammed into a tiny little body. He-"

Click.

Yuuri paused, the words dying in his throat, and Viktor peeked out from behind the camera with a bright smile.

"Gotcha!"

"Viktor!" Yuuri scowled at him, pulling his knees up to his chest. "That's no fair, I wasn't ready. You said-"

Click.

"- no more surprise pictures." Yuuri sighed, raising his eyebrows as Viktor glanced up with a playful smirk. 

"I can't help it, you pose so naturally," Viktor said with a wistful smile. "Remember what I said about Kraft versus store brand? Here, pose for me- just imitate the one I just took, with that little scowl. I just took the last Kraft macaroni box."

Yuuri scowled at him darkly, and Viktor snapped the photo with another distinct click. 

"Now come look."

Yuuri moved from the couch to peer at the camera screen, Viktor moving behind him and reaching around to flip between the photos. First he displayed the non-posed picture, where Yuuri's whole body language seemed to scream annoyance. The second one, where he had posed, seemed completely plastic, forced. Yuuri narrowed his eyes.

"How do they do it in movies and such, then? That looks real to me," Yuuri said.

"Yeah, but those are professional actors. With people not accustomed to posing and making it realistic, it's likely it won't produce the same results," Viktor explained, flicking back and forth between the photos. "See how your whole face seems to twist in this one? You're too focused on making it look right in your head. Actors spend years trying to match what's in their head to what the audience sees."

Yuuri hummed noncommittally, but he understood what Viktor was saying. He was right- Yuuri was no professional actor, so using real shots was probably better. Still, he didn't want to admit it. 

He turned his head to glance at Viktor at the precise moment Viktor turned to look at him, and suddenly the massive guest room became a hell of a lot smaller. Both of them froze, noses centimeters away from brushing against each other's, and neither dared to breathe. Yuuri couldn't stop looking at Viktor's eyes, which shone a little to brightly, and when they fell to Yuuri's parted lips it became even harder.

"Yuuri," Viktor started, his voice soft and his breath warm against Yuuri's lips. "I... uh, I forgot what I was going to say, actually. Oops."

Yuuri laughed, the sound too breathy and slightly choked off at the end. He was hyperaware of everywhere Viktor touched- Viktor's chin brushing on his shoulder, Viktor's arm brushing against his as he reached around him, his chest occasionally bumping into Yuuri's back with every uneven breath as he stared at him with dilated pupils.

Dilated pupils? Doesn't that signal attraction? 

"We should... probably finish the shoot," Viktor said quietly, and Yuuri's blood went cold. He nodded mutely and Viktor backed up to give him space, conflict raging in his eyes.

I misread it. I can't believe I was that stupid-

"Hey, Yuuri?" Viktor called after him, and Yuuri glanced over his shoulder trepidly.

He's freaked out, he's going to make me leave-

"I want to try something different this time," Viktor interrupted his panicked thoughts, turning to fiddle with his camera. "Is it okay if I pose you?"

"I-I thought you didn't like poses?" 

"This is different," Viktor promised, pulling away from the camera. "Just sit down on the couch- and face the side, no, the arm. Like that. You can sit crisscrossed or on your knees, it's out of shot. Good."

Yuuri glanced at him inquisitively as Viktor toyed with the camera. "What are you planning?"

"Secret. Okay, I'm going to come adjust you, so go back in position." Viktor hit a button on the camera and then moved over to Yuuri, sitting opposite of him and lifting his hands to Yuuri's face, angling it up slightly and then to the right some, eyes narrowed. The proximity was dizzying, but Yuuri forced himself to stay calm, meeting Viktor's gaze evenly.

"Y'know," Viktor said suddenly, pausing his ministrations and letting one hand slide further up Yuuri's face and brushing a thumb over his cheekbone. "There's something... passionate about you, Yuuri. I was drawn to you the first time I saw you, scribbling down notes like your life depended on it."

"...What?" Thrown off by the sudden confession, Yuuri met his gaze and saw Viktor's eyes soften just a fraction, his other hand dropping to Yuuri's side and resting on his hip lightly. 

"You inspire me," Viktor continued, moving the hand on his face down his neck and letting it rest where it met his shoulder, fingers playing at the nape of Yuuri's neck. "I've never felt it before, the pull that you have on me. I can't get enough of it."

"Viktor...." Yuuri could barely see past the haze in his eyes, be it from the heat rising in his face or the elation at Viktor touching him, Viktor holding him. "What are you trying to say? I don't really speak photographer."

Viktor laughed, leaning forward until their foreheads touched and their breaths mingled in hot puffs. Yuuri met his eyes dazedly, drunk on the closeness and his own relief. Still, doubt crept at the back of his mind. Viktor could be referring to him as a subject and not as a person, he didn't need to jump to conclusions.

"It's exactly that," Viktor said, thumb tracing lazy circles on Yuuri's hip. "You make me laugh and smile, you give me emotions I didn't think I could have. Every day with you is a surprise, and I love it."

Viktor took an unsteady breath, eyes flicking up from the space between them to meet Yuuri's, glazed over slightly.

"I love you, Yuuri." Viktor sounded so confident that it stole his breath away. "If anyone has given me love, it's been you in the short time we've known each other. I'd like to chase that feeling, if you want to."

"But...." Yuuri could hardly believe his ears. It made so much sense and no sense at all. "But I'm just a store-brand macaroni?"

Viktor laughed out loud, then, reaching up to tangle both hands in Yuuri's hair and press his lips to Yuuri's forehead.

"I'm beginning to develop a taste for store-brand macaroni," Viktor said, and then he leaned  in and kissed him, his lips warm and soft and gentle and everything nice. He tasted like cinnamon and chocolate, and the slight tug of Viktor's hands threaded in his hair made the world spin happily.

Click.

Yuuri pulled away with a laugh of disbelief as the sound of the camera wrnt off, and Viktor chased his lips, pressing light kisses to the corner of his mouth when Yuuri giggled and tried to push him off. Euphoria raced through his mind at a hundred miles per hour and eventually he gave into Viktor's demands, wrapping his arms around Viktor's neck and pressing their lips together.

"You're a cheeseball," Yuuri said against Viktor's mouth when they parted to breathe, eyes still shut as he savored the moment. Viktor vibrated against him, laughing silently.

"I thought I was macaroni?"

"I'm the macaroni," Yuuri reminded him, scooting forward until he was practicially in Viktor's lap to press kisses along his jaw and neck. Viktor tilted his head to give him access, hands smoothing over his back tremulously. "You're the cheese. We make a great pair, you and I."

"Can't have macaroni without the cheese," Viktor agreed, before they both broke down in a fit of laughter, Yuuri collapsing on top of Viktor and hiding hisnface in his chest. "Oh, Yuuri, sit up."

Yuuri did as instructed, and Viktor pulled him in front of the camera. 

"Make a really serious face."

Yuuri obliged to the best of his ability, bringing forth an angry frown at the lens. "Like this?"

"Perfect. You're better than the actors." A small red light went off next to the the lens, signalling the three second count down, and right before it went off Viktor scooted behind him and pressed a kiss to the nape of his neck. Yuuri jolted, surprise writing across his features as his lips parted in a shriek of surprise.

Click.

Spinning around, Yuuri tackled Viktor down and straddled him offensively, narrowing his eyes at the photographer with mock rage. "You planned this all from the start!"

"I didn't, I swear," Viktor raised his hands over his head, but he was grinning. "When you came to look at the pictures I remembered the camera had a two-minute delay. And I figured I would get it on camera, to save the memories."

"...Cheeseball."

"Store-brand macaroni." Viktor grinned as Yuuri smacked him lightly on the chest, eyes playful as he leaned up and stole another kiss. "My favorite kind."

"This analogy ends here."

"Agreed."