As fandom celebrates the engagement between Yuuri Katsuki and Viktor Nikiforov, somewhere between worlds, Yuuri Shibuya is feeling suddenly insignificant, as if this other Yuuri has usurped his throne and far surpassed his legacy.
“Woah, hold on,” he says. “I’ve been engaged to Wolfram since the first light novel was released in 2000, and now these guys come along and try to upstage us?? Wow, rude.”
People are having none of it.
“But you proposed by mistake,” they say.
“But you aren’t really in love with Wolfram,” they say.
Yuuri ignores the first comment because he can't really deny it, and also engagement rings in Barcelona are a lot more romantic than a slap across the face over the dinner table, so he knows he’s already lost there. Instead, he focuses on the whole “in love” thing, because he doesn’t think anyone else has any business trying to determine how he feels one way or the other. Also, baseball season ended weeks ago, so he’s feeling a bit pent up competitively, and this seems like a great opportunity for some good old-fashioned sportsmanship or something, even if he feels more defensive than sportsman-like at the moment.
He considers going over everything he and Wolfram have ever done for one another. That whole “I’ll fall with you” thing still has to carry some weight, doesn't it? Then he calls to mind every instance in which he ever waxed poetic about Wolfram over the span of seventeen novels, but he knows it'll take too long to cover it all. He starts mumbling something about “the sun” and “looks like an angel” and ends up going on another mental tangent about how Wolfram’s the most beautiful person he's ever met, but because it happens in his head, no one hears a word of it.
Wolfram comes to the rescue.
“You know what we have that Viktuuri doesn't have?” Wolfram says.
“What?” Yuuri wonders.
Wolfram’s answering grin is wide with pride. “A daughter,” he says.
Yes. Yes!! That’s it, Yuuri thinks. He and Wolfram have Greta, and no matter how much fandom might like to pretend Yuri Plisetsky is Viktuuri’s son, they have no official adoption papers to make that situation anything more than a silly delusion.
“What would I do without you, Wolfram?” Yuuri asks.
“Still come in first place instead of fourth, because as much as I hate to admit it, you don’t really need me to take care of you, even if you are an idiot.”
Yuuri and Wolfram high five one another and go have a picnic with their legally adopted daughter.
The next day, the kingdom’s newspaper runs an article about how they're more in love than ever.
Wolfram smirks and dangles a marriage contract in Yuuri’s face.
Yuuri knows he doesn't need to sign it to prove anything.
(Somewhere in the depths of the internet, a small but annoyingly loud part of fandom suddenly rises up and says, “But wait. Even if Wolfram still looks and acts really young, he’s actually 66 years older than Yuuri, so that's pedophilia.”
It's actually not pedophilia, because neither of them are pre-pubescent kids, and humans and demons age at such different rates that Earthen standards don’t really apply in the Great Demon Kingdom, but this small and annoyingly loud part of the fandom doesn't care about accuracy. They grasp their pitchforks and begin their war anew.)