After it becomes apparent that they’re never going to get anything done together if they insist on ‘checking’ every piece of mistletoe (to, you know, make sure it works), Yuuri and Viktor decide to split the box between themselves and hang the rest of them up completely solo.
Naturally, this leads to Yuuri managing to locate Phichit and Chris again when he’s trying to attach a festoon onto a pan hook in the kitchen. Chris is ladling some mulled wine into a cup for Phichit, who in turn is chattering eagerly about his plans for New Year’s Eve in New York City with Leo and Guang-Hong.
“–They’re super sorry they couldn’t make it this year; Leo’s family are a bunch of Disney nuts who go to Disney World for Christmas every other year. And of course Leo invited Guang-Hong this year; they’ve been blowing up group chat with all these photos and I’m trying to make them jealous with all the good food here but man. My FOMO’s kicking in so hard right now.”
“I could see why you’d rather go to Disney World than here,” Chris replies, with a teasing twinkle in his eyes.
“Oh come on, and leave the rest of you guys behind? Next year we should all just go to Disney World together. Can you imagine Viktor and Yuuri on Splash Mountain?”
“Viktor would either think it’s the best thing in the world, or complain about his hair getting wet.” Chris chuckles. “And no doubt Yuuri would probably herd us through the park and have a game plan of all the rides to go on and everything.”
“What, are you telling me you don’t have a game plan whenever you visit a Disney park?” demands Phichit. “What kind of human being are you?”
“The kind that likes to make the most out of every moment,” replies Chris, his voice low, almost sensual. It’s too perfect of a moment, which is why the universe suddenly decides that that’s also the moment when Yuuri loses his footing on the stool next to the kitchen island and comes tumbling down with an almighty crash.
“Oh my god.” There’s a scrambling of feet and moments later Phichit is by his side. “Yuuri! We didn’t know you were – is that mistletoe?”
“I’m decorating the house,” Yuuri blusters, his pride and knees both smarting in pain. He quickly checks himself over for injuries, waving off Chris’s offer to grab some bandages. “I’m just going to, you know, crawl into the nearest snowbank and never emerge again, don’t mind me.”
He shuffles off, taking cover in the pantry just in time to see Chris help Phichit to his feet, and Phichit point upwards to the sprig of mistletoe above their heads. Chris’s cheeks tinge pink; he ducks down and presses a kiss to Phichit’s cheek before stepping back and focusing on the mulled wine instead.
Yuuri takes that as his cue to run out of the kitchen, the rest of the mistletoe clutched in his hands.
send me ‘jingle bells’ for a ficlet
