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Looking back on it, this probably wasn’t actually Phichit’s fault.
That doesn’t stop Yuuri from silently cursing his friend as he stands in line at the convenience store, eyes fixed intently on the conveyor belt now currently holding the colorful packet of tampons he begrudgingly is buying. Normally buying feminine products for his newly transitioning friend wouldn’t be that big of a deal to Yuuri, but it’s still a bit of a bummer to notice that the little kid standing in front of him in line is staring at him with a curious expression in his big green eyes.
One of the kid’s hands is pulled tightly into a fist with the exception of a small thumb pushed into his mouth, while the other is currently holding tightly onto a much larger yet equally pale hand which, Yuuri realizes with no small amount of mortification, belongs to a man so attractive that Yuuri feels his face heat from simply being within the same vicinity as him.
So, yeah, Yuuri isn’t exactly pleased with Phichit in this moment.
The man is speaking in accented English to the clerk behind the counter, his slightly heart-shaped smile reaching his unbelievably blue eyes, one of which is obscured by smooth, silky fringe. The man can’t be older than 30, yet his hair is peculiarly silver. He’s gesticulating wildly, clearly enthusiastic about whatever topic he’s currently speaking on; however, Yuuri can’t seem to focus on anything other than the man’s slightly flushed cheekbones, strong jaw, and slim but toned frame.
Yuuri is so busy staring at the incredibly attractive man that he nearly jumps when a small finger pokes his side. He looks down, startled, to see the kid glaring up at him suspiciously, his hands now free and hanging loosely at his side. He opens his mouth and says, rather bluntly, “Why are you buying girl things? You aren’t a girl.”
Blushing, Yuuri coughs. The kid just continues staring up at him; his long blonde hair is nearly obscured by a tiger onesie, his plain white sneakers covered in SpongeBob stickers. He looks to be around six or seven, and yet his expression gives him the allusion of a moody teenager.
“I – I – ” Yuuri stammers, trying to think of an excuse that wouldn’t confuse the boy. “Well... they’re not for me. I’m getting them for someone else.”
“Your girlfriend?” The boy tilts his head.
“Er –“ Yuuri stutters. “No.”
“Yuri!”
Both individuals look up at the smooth voice, and suddenly Yuuri comes face-to-face with the handsome stranger. He’s looking down at the boy with a stern gaze just on the edges of fondness, and kneels to tug the boy closer to him. “I told you not to let go of my hand. Are you bothering this man?”
And suddenly those blue eyes are gazing into his own. Yuuri feels heat rise to his neck and ears, and internally curses himself for his shyness. “I – ahh – “ he starts, but the boy begins talking.
“I didn’t do anything, Vitya. I just wanted to know why he was buying girl things when he’s not a girl.” Then the boy – Yuri – turns his eyes back to him. “Is it for your sister? Your mom? Your cousin?”
Vitya (a strange name, Yuuri thinks, although perhaps not as strange as meeting another Yuri) instantly chastises the boy with a click of his tongue. “Now, Yura, we’ve had this conversation before. You know someone doesn’t have to be a boy to have girl problems.”
Yuri’s eyes widen with recognition. His head whips to Yuuri, giving him a once-over, gaze intent as if looking for something. He meets Yuuri’s eyes, inquiring. “Are you… uhhh…”
“Transgender?” Yuuri provides helpfully. Yuri nods. “No, but my roommate is. These are for him.”
“Oh.” The kid shrugs.
Vitya stands up with an apologetic, handing his card to the waiting clerk, who accepts it lazily. The man’s gaze is locked on Yuuri’s. “Excuse my little brother’s rudeness,” he says kindly. “Yuri still hasn’t learned the concept of manners, it seems, even though he turns eight in March.”
Yuri huffs, crossing his small arms and blowing a lock of blonde hair out of his face moodily. “You’re the one taking forever to pay.”
Still slightly pink under the other man’s gaze, Yuuri anxiously pulls the sleeves of his gray Wayne State University sweatshirt over his shaking hands. “I-It’s fine! I never really understood it either until I went to college and met Phichit – that’s my roommate,” he adds with a nervous chuckle.
The man looks interested as he and his brother begin loading their cart with bags. “That’s an interesting name,” he says.
“Not as strange as Vitya,” Yuuri points out, before paling considerably. Not even five minutes within meeting such an attractive person and he’s already insulting him.
Surprisingly, though, the other man only laughs. “Oh, no, that’s a nickname.” The man holds out an elegant hand. Yuuri cautiously takes it, hoping his palm isn’t too sweaty. The man’s hands are warm and so is his voice as he says, “My name is Victor. Victor Nikiforov, pleasure to meet you.”
“Katsuki Yuuri,” Yuuri replies instantly. Victor’s eyes light up with interest.
“Your name is Yuuri, too? Wow!” Victor exclaims, clearly delighted.
“Haha, yeah…” Yuuri trails off, looking into the other man’s eyes. He stares back, unperturbed. Now that they’re closer, Yuuri notices smaller things about the man, like the long line of his nose, the length of his eyelashes, the almost invisible dimple adorning his everlasting smile. He’s quite possibly the most attractive man Yuuri’s ever seen. Yuuri feels extremely inadequate in front of him.
The man’s eyes eventually travel down Yuuri’s body, making the Japanese man blush. He’s dressed modestly in his usual running outfit: a sweatshirt, track pants, and tennis shoes. He had been jogging, trying to work off the gained weight he received in response to a hearty Thanksgiving meal provided by his American friend Leo’s family. He had indulgently stuffed himself that night, continuing to celebrate his birthday throughout the week with even more food. Yuuri had always gained weight extremely easy.
Victor, however, is perfectly slender, wearing a form-fitting black turtleneck, matching pants, and expensive-looking loafers, his left wrist adorned with a golden watch. He’s every part the look of casual elegance. It’s rather disheartening.
Suddenly, a voice rings out loudly, “You’re staring, you know!”
Both blush furiously and look down to see Yuri glaring at them accusingly.
“Oh,” Victor laughs, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly, “were we?”
“Yes,” another voice says. They turn to look at the store clerk, who stares back, bored. She turns her gaze down; “and you’re still holding hands.”
Yuuri rips his hand away from Victor’s, silently praying to be swallowed up into the ground. Victor returns his hand to his side and steps away with his brother as Yuuri pays for that which he was here in the first place, nodding clumsily to the store clerk and turning around only to see Victor and Yuri deep in conversation.
The older man is attractively pink in the face, wearing the same displeased expression as his much younger counterpart. They’re speaking in a foreign language (Russian, maybe? Yuuri can't tell), Yuri’s words much slower as he clearly tries to piece them together into something coherent, and both seem rather cross with each other.
Feeling intrusive, Yuuri clutches the plastic bag in his hand as he murmurs, “It was nice meeting you.” The other two don’t seem to hear him and Yuuri turns around and begins to walk to the entrance with a dejected sigh. Well, there goes his hope at being found even the least bit attractive in the other man’s eyes. He knew it was too good to be true; the man was obviously wealthy and undoubtedly gorgeous. Yuuri was just an overweight college student working part-time at his family’s inn, sharing a one-bedroom apartment with his roommate.
But just as he nears the door, he suddenly hears a voice call out, “Hey, Yuuri – Katsuki Yuuri – wait!”
Startled beyond belief, Yuuri turns around to see Victor rushing towards him, pushing his cart with little Yuri holding onto the handle between his arms, SpongeBob-stickered shoes standing atop the bottom of the cart and a sucker – where did that come from? – stuck in his mouth instead of a thumb this time.
Victor is slightly out of breath as he comes to a stop in front of Yuuri, and a smile adorns his face once again, this time with a slight glimmer of hope as he says, “You barely gave Yuri and I a chance to meet you!”
“Oh – “ Yuuri stammers, subconsciously shrinking into himself, “I’m sorry, I saw you two talking and I didn’t want to bother you – “
“Nonsense,” Victor interrupts with a flap of his hands, “we weren’t speaking of anything important!”
“We were talking about how Victor has a crush on you,” Yuri states bluntly.
“Yura! You didn’t even give me a chance to say anything!” Victor exclaims, turning pink, and the two begin to argue in that same foreign language. Victor suddenly turns to Yuuri. “Again, I’m sorry for my brother, we really need to talk about his manners – Yuuri? Are you alright?”
Yuuri can’t answer that honestly. He’s busy burying his face into his sleeve-clad palms and wishing that the ground would swallow him whole.
“Yuuri? What’s wrong? Oh, I’m so sorry if we made you uncomfortable, I just thought you were very cute and I was going to ask you on a date before Yura here so rudely interrupted – “
“W-What?!” Yuuri yells suddenly, lifting his head to give Victor an incredulous look. “Did you say a date?”
Victor seems adorably confused. “Yes, I thought that’s what I said.”
“With me?” Yuuri clarifies.
“Of course.”
Yuuri shakes his head. He can’t believe this is happening. He was just supposed to go jogging, and then – once Phichit called him – to the store, and suddenly he was being asked out by a man who looked like a freaking model? He must be dreaming.
Just to make sure, he pinches himself and flinches at the stinging pain in his arm. Damn. Not a dream, then. Yuuri doesn’t know if this is a good thing or not.
“Yuuri?” Victor now looks concerned, and moves around the cart to stand in front of Yuuri. “Did I say something wrong? It’s okay if you don’t want to go out with me – it was just a suggestion – “
Yuuri races to reassure him, “N-No! I mean, yes! I would love to go on a date with you.” He sheepishly rubs his arm where a bruise was surely forming from the hard pinch, “I was just surprised, is all.”
“Oh!” Victor brightens considerably. “Brilliant!” He pulls out his phone, unlocking it and handing it to the other man. “Here, put your contact in.”
Fumbling, Yuuri takes out his own phone, unlocking it and handing it to Victor before taking the offered one. He starts typing in his number and name before looking up. Victor is looking intently at Yuuri’s own phone, typing studiously. Suddenly he looks up, grin blinding, and hands Yuuri the device. “There you go!”
As Yuuri hands Victor his phone back, little Yuri pipes up, “Can we go now?”
“Patience, Yura,” Victor says reproachfully, but he goes back behind the cart anyway and begins to push it toward the exit, only turning around to give Yuuri a salacious wink. “See you soon, Katsuki Yuuri.”
“Bye, other Yuri!” the blonde boy chirps.
Yuuri only waves dazedly, looking down at his phone once the two are out of sight. Upon seeing the newly added contact, he blanches, his heart speeding up impossibly. The screen reads:
"1 New Contact: Victor <3".
Maybe Phichit’s request wasn’t that bad after all. Maybe Yuuri would finally start Doctor Who as an expression of gratitude; Phichit had been begging him to watch it.
Yeah, Yuuri thinks happily as he begins his trek back to their apartment, maybe.