tags: feelings realization, social media, fluff, friends to lovers, pining (always, always)
Iwaizumi places his phone down carefully.
Oikawa. Pining after someone. There’s no way.
(Iwaizumi knows he shouldn’t care who Oikawa’s thinking of when he reads all of these sappy quotes, but within the span of three days, it’s somehow the only thing he can think about.)
Chapter 1(/2?) AO3 link!
HAPPY BDAY @cofferi !!! 🎂🎈✨ thanks for always being awesome and cool for all of these years 💕 pls accept this humble offering of iwaoi fluff on this most celebrated day!!
Maygunbun clearly proves that a fanfic doesn’t need to be extremely long or over-complicated to leave an impression – their work ‘Wings’ concisely describes a beautiful alternate universe where both Yuuri and Viktor are painters. In my opinion, their words speak clearly to the reader, who is presented with a witty and interesting new concept. A great fanfiction experience, especially for any new fans!
missmichellebelle – @missmichellebelle
…and All the Little Moments + and that’s what you missed on-
Their writing style was intriguing from the start, filled with flowing descriptive paragraphs that showed off their talent in writing descriptive prose without weighting down the reading experience. The Glee AU was especially lovely to read, characterizing Victor and Yuuri just right and with that extra edge of a comic situation without going into their stereotypically placed personas. Well done!
myoue – @cofferi
27 Overexposures + The nostalgic feeling of the familiar
There is no doubt that myoue’s writing is definitely noteworthy, as they tell truly wonderful and delicately woven tales. The writer tends to delve deeply into the characters thoughts and emotions; a bold move that leaves little room for any mischaracterizations, however they handle it with grace. I admit that the story seems to progress at a slow rate and sometimes quite randomly too, due to this very aspect of their style, yet they tie everything in their plot together amazingly!
"To tell you the truth, I've been looking for a chance to escape, but it's difficult in a setting like this." Victor glances around, and Yuuri does too, despite knowing what he'll see - people being dragged to dance, to get in a picture, pulled over to share a story - and well, knowing that it's not just him that finds it all rather exhausting helps Yuuri feel a bit more at ease.
"Don't worry, I'll do my best to hide you," he jokes.
[AO3 link]
i wrote this for @cofferi‘s birthday🎂!!! 'this’ being a simple fluffy yuuri-and-victor-meet-at-a-wedding fic!
"Excuse me," Yuuri says for perhaps the fiftieth time, veering off to the side with a glass of champagne in hand. Only his second, he'd assured Phichit, who'd still seemed concerned Yuuri might sit alone and drink champagne all evening.
I'm not that bad, he consoles himself, sipping lightly at his glass. Besides, he has a high alcohol tolerance, and Yuuri has watched more than a few people who definitely shouldn't have gone for that next glass do exactly that. The noise level seems to have risen the more he's watched people drink, and yet here Yuuri remains, on his second glass of champagne with nothing more to say than Excuse me every few minutes, careful not to stay in one spot for too long lest someone make it their mission to 'rescue' him; the last such attempt had ended in one of the bridesmaids crying on Yuuri's shoulder over her boyfriend dumping her the day before.
"You have the sort of face that says hey, I'm here to listen," Phichit tries. When Yuuri only stares, he sighs, patting Yuuri's shoulder. "Well, weddings make people emotional."
That had been about fifteen minutes ago, and Yuuri's just finished his champagne. He should get another one, but not too quickly. He's also attempting to calculate each sweep of the room not to occur too close together, not that anyone is paying close enough attention to mete out a pattern. Or at least, he hopes.
Yuuri sighs heavily, resisting the urge to rub at his eyes. It's not that he hates people, but situations like these - how is he meant to know how to deal with a wedding, even if he is happy for JJ and Isabella - surrounded by people he barely knows, bar a few, are more a chore than anything.
A quick glance around, and then Yuuri's pulling out his phone. Plenty of people have their own out, taking pictures and video, so it's not that big of a deal - but again, Yuuri's careful not to keep it out for too long. "You're being weird," Phichit complains when Yuuri mentions this, but he doesn't offer any suggestions for making Yuuri feel less awkward or out of place.
Not that it's his fault, of course. Yuuri's plenty awkward around people he doesn't know on his own, and he stifles another sigh as he goes back to reading the increasingly volatile comment thread on this article. How far has he fallen? He tries not to stare at the time in the corner too much.
Before long his phone is shoved back in his pocket, a third glass of champagne is in hand, and Yuuri spots one of the smaller tables in the distance, miraculously unattended. He hurries over with purpose, the sigh that leaves his lips this time content as he sits down.
Maybe it's just mental, but this glass tastes a little better than the previous two. Yuuri drains half of it before digging around for his phone again as he surveys the room.
It hasn't been all bad. Yuuri's laughed and taken some photo and video of his own, done some catching up with people he hasn't seen in some time, and of course, gotten to congratulate the bride and groom. If there were just half the amount of guests, Yuuri might say he's having a nice time.
He spots Sara getting dragged to dance by her brother - again - leaving Phichit with his hands over his heart in mock betrayal. Yuuri smiles, watching Chris swoop in, and he wonders if he's offering to take her place. Either way, they're both laughing, and then there's Victor, dancing with - Mia? Maya? - Yuuri feels bad for not knowing her name, but there are lots of names he's forgotten. Besides, they've never properly met, nor have he and Victor, for that matter. He realizes he's staring a little too long when the music stops, and hastily brings his eyes back down to his phone.
It takes a few moments to realize something has gone horribly wrong. His phone, which has been his savior, has apparently died. Its battery, which Yuuri had trusted to get him through a few more hours, has given up on him. He tries not to break into a cold sweat, tapping frantically at the screen after having no luck with the power button. How could this happen? A wedding is supposed to be a joyous event, a symbol of happiness and hope, not a sordid den of betrayal.
So dismayed is he by this development that he fails to pay the proper amount of attention to what's happening around him - the movement in his peripheral vision, the oof of someone plopping down, and, most distracting of all -
"Sorry, hope you don't mind," comes the smooth voice, and Yuuri raises his head slowly, takes in the sight of Victor at the seat across the table. He runs a hand through his hair, smiling apologetically as he continues, "I need a little break."
And well, Yuuri supposes he would, since he's been talking and dancing the whole time Yuuri's been skulking and prowling. He tries not to choke as he responds, "N-no, of course." He takes a quick sip of champagne. "It's fine."
Victor's smile brightens, just a bit. Maybe Yuuri's imagining it? His head's buzzing a little, but he's certain it's not the champagne. He continues tapping at his phone as his heart thunders, the futile efforts apparently capturing Victor's attention.
“Yuuri, is it? I'm Victor." Yuuri nods slowly, surprised Victor would remember his name. They've never actually met properly, after all. "You’ve been quite busy,” he says, nodding toward the phone cradled pathetically in Yuuri's hands. When he continues to stare blankly, Victor adds, "You've been on your phone a lot."
Yuuri stays silent while Victor crosses his legs, the cut of his grey suit terribly flattering; he must have gotten it professionally fitted or something, that's a thing that people do, Yuuri knows. Yuuri's own suit is quite plain, off of the rack in some store he can't even remember the name of, not now. Now, he's busy trying not to choke - again - when he considers that despite all of his efforts, someone had noticed what he's been up to; not just someone, but Victor, who sits there unassuming, pleasant, ready to make light conversation with this person he doesn't know but has found himself sharing a table with.
"My battery died," Yuuri finally replies, holding it up for Victor to see the blank screen. That makes him laugh, the humor crinkling his face only making him more handsome. Yuuri downs the rest of his glass swiftly, pushing it away from him once he's done. His phone lies on the table, the only barrier between himself and the man he's found his eyes drifting back to all evening. Now that he's right here, however, Yuuri doesn't know what to do.
"You can use mine," he offers kindly, making a motion toward his pocket. Yuuri practically snaps his head off in his haste to decline the offer, unwilling to swipe through an internet argument while Victor sits there amiably, thinking he's helped with something important.
"It's fine," he repeats. He's not sure what's fine, but this situation isn't one he'd categorize as anything close to it. "You've been busy too," he says, only realizing afterward that he's admitted to noticing what Victor's been up to, as well. Why does it seem so much more dire than the other way around?
And yet, Victor smiles again. It's a rather dashing smile, and he must know it, has probably been told a thousand different times. There's no reason for Yuuri to think it'd please him to hear it.
"To tell you the truth, I've been looking for a chance to escape, but it's difficult in a setting like this." He glances around, and Yuuri does too, despite knowing what he'll see - people being dragged to dance, to get in a picture, pulled over to share a story - and well, knowing that it's not just him that finds it all rather exhausting helps Yuuri feel a bit more at ease.
"Don't worry, I'll do my best to hide you," he jokes. He waves his phone around once more, gesturing to the screen. "See what an animated conversation we're having? No one would dare interrupt."
A different sort of smile curls at Victor's lips, a little less controlled than the other flashy ones. Yuuri feels rather proud when Victor covers his mouth with a hand, glancing off to the side.
He brings his chin to rest in that very hand in one smooth motion a few moments later. "You're quite right," he says, leaning forward in his seat. With the other hand, he reaches out to take Yuuri's phone.
Yuuri would be lying to himself if he tried to pretend the brief heat of Victor's fingers against his hadn't made his heart skip a beat, but he manages not to drop the phone, nonetheless. He watches Victor's brows furrow in mock concentration as he stares at the blank screen.
The absurdity of the situation before him is somehow the very thing that keeps Yuuri from fully grasping it. He and Victor are pretending to have a conversation, but also sort of are? - nothing of substance, but the way Victor looks at him, he can't help feel like something of substance is happening. Absurd.
Weddings make people emotional.
Yuuri flushes. Why hadn't he brought a few extra champagne glasses to the table, since he'd planned on camping out here awhile?
Before long, Victor is sliding the phone back toward him on the tablecloth. "Truly incredible. I see why you had to drag me away to show me that." And with that, a wink, an honest to god wink. Yuuri really, really needs another drink.
"I didn't drag you away," he says instead. Victor isn't flirting, right? So it's okay if Yuuri doesn't flirt back. "If I remember correctly, you're the one who fell into my lap."
His ears are burning, but the remark earns him another one of those smiles; cute, if he lets himself think it - he doesn't, of course, as it may be okay to admit to himself that Victor is good-looking, but cute is a whole nother thing. A far, far more dangerous thing. So why does Victor make no move to hide his face this time?
Those light eyes are shining, a little bit of color in Victor's cheeks as he laughs. "I must be honest, Yuuri, I feel quite lucky to have you all to myself right now."
Yuuri lets out a sound between a nervous laugh and a splutter, somehow managing to turn it into a cough at the end. Victor's eyes are twinkling with mischief, and Yuuri now only wants more champagne in order to throw it over his head.
"You're about to be by yourself in a minute," he threatens, straightening his glasses unnecessarily. He doesn't miss the way Victor's eyes follow the motion. What is happening? "Then you'll get pulled into that dance battle they've been trying to get going for the past half hour." Yuuri jerks his head in the direction of some of the noisier guests; it appears no one is quite drunk enough yet to accept the initial challenge set forth by one of them.
"Never!" Victor shakes his head vigorously. "It would be rude to crush their dreams when I wipe the floor with them." So full of himself. Why does Yuuri want to tease that he would be the one to win?
"Besides, after I went through all the trouble of falling into your lap, the least you could do is oblige me a little longer." A cheeky grin, one that curls into something more lazy and sweet the longer Victor's gaze remains on him. Yuuri's struggles not to make any other embarrassing sounds. Is Victor drunk? That would make sense, would probably be the only valid explanation for anything that's happened since Victor had sat down at his table.
Still, the fact remains Victor had sat down at his table, had noticed him, has taken the time to carry on a conversation and maybe-sort-of flirt with him a little. Yuuri's reading into it too much, probably, but the buzz around the edges of his mind is pleasant, the thrum of excitement in his fingertips so lovely, that Yuuri finds he doesn't care.
"I suppose I can put up with you a bit more," he says, eyebrows crinkling as he pretends to weigh his options. It's difficult to keep a serious expression when Victor pouts so openly. The light feeling in his chest expands, and Yuuri can't believe how much he's enjoying himself.
And he is, he's having fun, being silly and a whole lot bolder than he would normally. How much time has passed, with Victor here? Suddenly he's anxious at the prospect of the evening ending, a realization that sends a self-conscious heat burning its way down the back of his neck.
Luckily Victor doesn't seem to notice. In fact, it seems he's distracted by his own phone. Yuuri tries not to be nosy, really he does, but it looks like Victor is repeatedly declining calls one after another. If he squints, it appears to be the same person dialing each time, but Yuuri can't quite make out the name. Something about the whole thing, the same name appearing, Victor swiftly tapping the red decline button without hesitation, makes Yuuri want to laugh, but he's not sure it's appropriate. His lip curls in an attempt to hide his amusement, and naturally, this is the moment Victor's gaze shifts upwards.
"You'd think they'd get the hint after the first three times," he says, apparently making no effort to hide what's ensued. With a long sigh, he finally shoves the phone back into his pocket. "I should just turn it off, then we'd be even."
Yuuri doesn't bother trying to hide his smile then. "It's fine if you have to take the call," he says, before biting his tongue. Had he made it sound like Victor had been refusing the call for Yuuri's sake? He doesn't want to assume. "Unless you'd rather not," he adds lamely.
"Of course I'd rather not," Victor replies, shifting a little. Even the smallest movement seems to carry an underlying grace, Yuuri can't help but notice; his gaze roams freely, without his permission. It isn't long before he brings his eyes back to Victor's face, something squeezing in his chest once he does. Victor tilts his head to the side, smiling. "You look like there's something on your mind."
Of course there is, he mimics Victor's reply in his mind. A hundred different things, all weaving into a tangled mess he doesn't think he'd ever be able to sort out. A new song starts up, louder than the previous one, or maybe it's just Victor's smile that's causing the roar in his ears.
"I was just reliving JJ singing on stage," he says, delighting in the way Victor's eyes widen. "I know the man should be allowed to do whatever he wants on his own wedding day, but he took it too far."
Victor is openly laughing now, one hand clasped over his chest. "Yuuri! That isn't nice!" His eyes are twinkling as he leans in conspiratorially. "I heard Isabella threatened to divorce him afterward."
Yuuri fights to hold back his own laugh. "You're kidding! I actually thought she looked surprisingly into it." And she had, or so Yuuri had thought. They're still made for each other, either way.
"Okay, I lied," Victor concedes. "But I would have divorced him after a stunt like that."
"Would you really?" Yuuri's grinning so wide he's afraid his cheeks might start to hurt. "I thought you were cheering him on, too."
Victor purses his lips. "Well, it was like a train wreck by that point. I got swept up in it." He wags a finger at Yuuri. "And what, may I ask, were you doing when all of this went down?"
Filming it and trying not to die laughing. Yuuri's fingers itch to cover his phone, like its darkened screen will somehow give him away. "Planning my performance, but his was so good I knew I couldn't compare."
He maintains a straight face, somehow, his delight only growing when Victor laughs again, eyes crinkling at the corners. Why does catching Victor off guard, making him laugh like this, bring Yuuri so much satisfaction? Warm and intoxicating, it swoops and curls around the pit of his stomach, makes his head spin and heart soar.
"How have we not talked before?" Victor asks when he regains himself. He leans back in his seat, such an easy smile on his handsome face, like there's nowhere else he'd rather be. Yuuri's glad the music is loud enough to mask the thump-thump-thump of his heartbeat.
"I don't know," he replies, leaning back a little in turn. He glances downward at his phone still lying uselessly on the table. A more suitable question seems to be How are we having this conversation now? "I guess we just didn't have the opportunity. Kept missing each other."
That answer gives Victor pause. "Dancing around each other, huh." The look in his eyes is a little more serious, but he's still smiling. Yuuri can't help but smile back.
"And now we could actually be dancing together," he jokes, tapping his fingers to match the beat of the song, one he doesn't know the name to but has heard often enough. He doesn't mean anything by it, their conversation light until now, but the words hang heavy in the air. Something stutters in his chest, twists and coils in his stomach, urging him to make the offer a real one - Victor, dance with me.
The internal struggle distracts him; by the time he looks to Victor for his reaction, he sees his eyes have lit up, inexplicably. Each thud of Yuuri's heart seems enough to be the catalyst to a fatal heart attack, but here he is, still alive. Both of Victor's hands are upon the table as he leans forward, beaming.
"You're right!" Determination glints in his eyes, makes Yuuri's mouth turn dry. "Yuuri, will you dance with me?" he asks, one palm upturned. An obvious invitation, if his words weren't. And surely, surely Yuuri must be going crazy because this wedding had been near a disaster until just half an hour ago, and now he's about to dance with Victor.
About to dance, because Yuuri's reached out and accepted that hand, wrapped his own around it and answered, "I'd love to." Is he beaming? It certainly feels like it, rising from the table with their hands still linked together.
They don't make it very far before Victor spins to face him, and from far away Yuuri hears the soft tinkle of laughter, the light rumble of voices, all of it feeling rather insignificant at the moment. Had it really seemed so loud, so overbearing, before?
The music breaks, and Yuuri whips his head around in a sudden panic, only to see the band preparing for their next song. Victor's soft chuckle makes his cheeks warm, and he waits a moment to turn back.
"Your tie is awful," Victor says conversationally, and really, Yuuri's heart is already trying to burst from his chest. How is he meant to bear with Victor's teasing?
He scowls, even as Victor runs a finger along the fabric. "You shouldn't insult people and smile like that at the same time," he scolds. Besides, it's not like Yuuri'd had a lot of options in the tie department.
Victor only smiles wider. "How do you propose I stop, when I'm about to dance with the most handsome man in the room?"
The music restarts in the middle of Victor's sentence, but the words ring loud in Yuuri's ears, in his heart, and deciding not to drown his sorrows in champagne suddenly seems like the best choice he's ever made. Still, how is he meant to answer a statement like that?
He doesn't, yet. It briefly occurs to him he'd left his phone back on the table, but Victor's hand is about his waist and his eyes are sparkling and Yuuri honestly doesn't mind. He places a hand near Victor's shoulder, solid and broad, and tries to resist the urge to squeeze his eyes shut, lean close and breathe in the scent of his cologne, to lay a kiss to his neck. Stop it, he tells himself, then to Victor, "You're used to leading, right?"
"Yes," he admits. They're still just standing there, touching, and Yuuri wonders if anyone's watching them. He finds he doesn't mind that, either. "We can alternate," Victor offers, his grip a little more secure around Yuuri's waist. Let's share more than one dance is what Yuuri hears, and he nods swiftly, heart light.
Their joined hands rise, and then they're moving, Victor's smile so dazzling he finds himself unable to look away. Each step feels like floating, an easy rhythm, like they've been dancing together all night instead of for the first time. It's like falling and flying all at the same time, improbable but real, as real as Victor's hands guiding him along.
The tempo slows, and Victor leans in, lips close to Yuuri's ear. "I'm quite upset with you, Yuuri," he murmurs. His cheek is cool, breath warm. Yuuri's heartbeat flutters against his rib cage. "Why haven't we been doing this all evening?"
"I was thinking the same thing," he says. Victor is obviously pleased, his grip tightening on Yuuri's hand as he spins them about. Yuuri lets his other hand shift from Victor's shoulder to cradle his neck, thumb brushing against the skin there before it dips beneath his collar. Victor takes a deep breath. From this close, it's easy to see, easy enough to feel it rattling in his own chest.
One dance turns into two, three; they slip from Victor leading to Yuuri, back and forth, heedless of the songs changing, and Yuuri knows they must have drawn some attention, but for now, Victor is his, and his alone.
"Would you sing on stage for me, Yuuri?" he asks, lips stretched in a smile. Yuuri considers dipping him backward, but doesn't.
"Never," he replies, but if he's honest, he'd consider it, if it meant having Victor's eyes on him like this. Victor takes it in stride, lets Yuuri spin him and draw him back in close. Never, except I'd probably do it if you asked me to in exchange for the next dance. He wonders if Victor would do the same.
They pull apart when the band announces a break. Only then does Yuuri realize how quick his breaths are coming, how hard his heart's pounding. He could go for a glass of water, but the look on Victor's face, like Yuuri's some wonderful treasure to behold, serves just as well.
His lips part, and whatever he'd been about to say gets lost. Chris and JJ are at Victor's side, Chris clapping at his shoulder and berating the sort of people who would try to steal the spotlight at another man's wedding. Yuuri's cheeks burn so hot he almost doesn't notice Phichit laughing at his own side.
"Come on Yuuri, I want another drink," he says, dragging Yuuri away. He casts a look back to find Victor's brow creased in irritation as JJ jabs him in the ribs. Well, of the two options, Yuuri would certainly rather be cornered by Phichit.
"What was all that!" Phichit demands as he procures two glasses for them. "I didn't even know you guys knew each other."
Yuuri still feels like he's in a daze. He takes his time sipping from his own glass while Phichit eyes him. We don't, but things have changed. The glass almost slips from his fingers.
"I don't know," is all he can say. His eyes rove over the crowd, only half paying attention to the dance off that is apparently now about to actually take place. Still, he doesn't spot the silver head of hair he's looking for, and Phichit doesn't bother hiding a huff of disbelief.
"That's the best you can do?" Phichit presses. "Do you know I caught the whole thing? We can watch it, and you can tell me exactly what was going on."
Yuuri whirls around in horror. "You didn't." He couldn't have. He wouldn't do that to Yuuri. Yes, yes he would, but hopefully he hasn't.
Phichit shrugs. "Maybe, maybe not. Either way, it was good to see you enjoying yourself for once."
At that, Yuuri falls silent. He remembers thinking the very same thing.
He doesn't spot Victor again, and even after another glass of champagne, he's still nowhere near inebriated enough to join the dance battle. Yet somehow he isn't skirting the edges of the crowd anymore, a little more at ease in his skin, even if he can't help but look around in vain for the one person he wants to run into again. It honestly feels a little like he'd imagined the whole thing.
JJ ends up on stage again, and Yuuri chokes on his drink as he watches him wobble around far more unsteadily than earlier. "See, aren't you glad you came!" Phichit croons in his ear, and surprisingly, the answer is an easy yes.
Later, how much later he isn't sure, between a few more drinks and a few more people getting on stage to butcher perfectly innocent songs, it's time to go. "Let's get out of here, lover boy," Phichit mumbles, an arm slung over Yuuri's shoulders.
He follows Phichit's lead, if it can be called that, until they get outside. Georgi is off to the side yelling after Anya, garbled words that Yuuri doesn't really care enough to try to make out. He's pretty sure Anya's dumped him at least four separate times that Yuuri's witnessed; it's a little too much to keep up with.
Phichit finds Seung-gil, and they exchange a wholly unnecessary hug - weddings do indeed make people emotional - while Yuuri rifles around in his pockets for his phone. Why can't he seem to locate it? The pleasant buzz fades a little when someone grasps his shoulder from behind.
Yuuri turns, something rude on the tip of his tongue, but is surprised to find Victor there, grinning. "Cinderella," he greets, and it's taking way too long for Yuuri's brain to process anything other than that smile, the soft scent of cologne the breeze carries his way. Yuuri swallows.
Suddenly, it clicks - there in Victor's hand is his phone, the one he'd just been fruitlessly searching for, the one he now remembers stupidly leaving behind on the table. Had he actually left it there, or had Victor pocketed it then, making up for Yuuri's carelessness?
Cinderella. It echoes in his head, makes him feel drunk. His cheeks are flushed, he knows.
"Thanks," he says, taking it from Victor's grasp. He feels like he's blinking a lot. They gaze at each other wordlessly, Yuuri just barely stopping himself from making some stupid quip like my hero, even though Victor would probably laugh. He smells really good, but Yuuri also manages to keep that to himself.
"So, Sleeping Beauty, I suppose this is where we part ways." Victor leans a little closer, eyes soft, and Yuuri wants to protest - he can't be both Cinderella and Sleeping Beauty, that makes no sense at all. "Before you go..." Yuuri watches Victor pull out his own phone, crooked smile on his face. "Your phone number? If you don't mind me having it."
Yuuri stares. It still feels like he's blinking too much, maybe in an attempt to ascertain whether the beautiful apparition of Victor before him is actually asking for his phone number. Had he just let out that terrible gurgle? Ah, thankfully not; that had been Phichit, it seems. Yuuri wonders if he's filming this, too.
He licks his lips carefully, trying to focus. "I'd sing it on stage for you, if you asked."
Victor's laugh warms him up inside, from his head to the tips of his toes. He recites his number, Victor dutifully entering into his phone, and after a few more moments of tapping he pockets it. The radiance of his smile is enough to make Yuuri's head swim.
"Don't delete that message in the morning," Victor says seriously. "Even if it has typos. I'm not at my best right now."
That's a lie, Yuuri thinks. With his light hair windswept, suit a little unkempt, and contentment coloring his features, Yuuri's quite sure he could stand here forever admiring the sight. "Don't worry," Yuuri assures him. "The best things are worth waiting for."
Oh my god, his inner voice exclaims, or more likely that had been Phichit. Either way, Victor's laughing again, even as he reaches out to take Yuuri's hand. The warmth bubbling beneath his skin seems to intensify, centered on their joined hands.
"You're right about that," Victor says, beaming. He swings their hands back and forth a little, until Yuuri steadies him. He likes the feel of Victor's hand, likes it even better when it's wrapped so nicely with his own.
He's not sure why exactly it seems like a good idea, but he brings their hands upward, carefully examining each of Victor's knuckles. Victor hums when Yuuri runs a thumb over them, and without thinking about it Yuuri tilts his head down to place a soft kiss to them. A kiss to each one, actually, one, two, three, four. Victor makes another sound, Phichit may too, but Yuuri's too pleased with himself to do anything but look up with a smile. Victor's cheeks are pink.
"Good night," he says, and even after their hands separate, after Victor bids him good night and he and Phichit are walking away, his cheeks are still just as pink. Yuuri can't stop smiling.
"Incredible," Phichit is saying. "When's the wedding?"
"Oh, stop it," Yuuri replies. "Everyone knows it's in bad taste to get engaged at someone else's wedding."
"Ah, that's true." Phichit frowns. "W-wait a minute! You didn't deny it ever happening!"
Yuuri laughs, giddy. "He returned my slipper, Phichit! Who knows what the future holds."
"What slipper? Yuuri, I'm too drunk to follow this, I need you to go back to the beginning," he pleads.
"Tomorrow," Yuuri promises, unable to wipe the grin from his face. Tomorrow, he'll feel properly embarrassed about such open flirting, but much more importantly, tomorrow - tomorrow, this will all still be real, not something that Sleeping Beauty had only dreamed.
Rules: Bold everything that applies to you and tag 10 people you’d like to get to know better.
I’m over 5’5” // I wear glasses/contacts // I have blonde hair // I prefer loose clothing to tight clothing // I have one or more piercings // I have at least one tattoo // I have blue eyes // I have dyed or highlighted my hair // I have gotten plastic surgery // I have or had braces // I sunburn easily // I have freckles // I paint my nails // I typically wear makeup // I don’t often smile // I am pleased with how I look // I prefer Nike to Adidas // I wear baseball hats backwards
Hobbies and Talents:
I play a sport // I can play an instrument // I am artistic // I know more than one language // I have won a trophy in some sort of competition // I can cook or bake without a recipe // I know how to swim // I enjoy writing // I can do origami // I prefer movies to TV shows // I can execute a perfect somersault // I enjoy singing // I could survive in the wild on my own // I have read a new book series this year // I enjoy spending time with friends // I travel during school or work breaks // I can do a handstand
Relationships:
I am in a relationship // I have been single for over a year // I have a crush // I have a best friend I have known for ten years // My parents are together // I have dated my best friend // I am adopted // My crush has confessed to me // I have a long-distance relationship // I am an only child // I give advice to my friends // I have made an online friend // I met up with someone I have met online
Aesthetics:
I have heard the ocean in a conch shell // I have watched the sunrise // I enjoy rainy days // I have slept under the stars // I meditate outside // The sound of chirping calms me // I enjoy the smell of the beach // I know what snow tastes like // I listen to music to fall asleep // I enjoy thunderstorms // I enjoy cloud watching // I have attended a bonfire // I pay close attention to colours // I find mystery in the ocean // I enjoy hiking on nature paths // autumn is my favourite season
Miscellaneous:
I can fall asleep in a moving vehicle // I am the mom friend // I live by a certain quote // I like the smell of sharpies // I am involved in extracurricular activities // I enjoy Mexican food // I can drive a stick-shift // I believe in true love // I make up scenarios to fall asleep // I sing in the shower // I wish I lived in a video game // I have a canopy above my bed // I am multiracial // I am a redhead // I own at least three dogs
TY @cofferi for tagging meeeee!! you don’t know how badly i wanted to bold ‘i am a redhead’
i tag: @mysecretfanmoments @pandera @silencedmoment @ doesanyoneusetheirtumblrregularlyanymore
If he tilts his head to the side a bit, he can see Levi lounging on the couch. He makes a mental note to buy a longer robe that will cover more of Levi's legs, not that he was looking.
This is the (totally unnecessary) third part to ‘a man and his cat’ and ‘cat man do’! 🎂 HAPPY BIRTHDAY @cofferi♥!! 🎂
> the cat levi saga on AO3!
The next few days pass by in a blur.
If Eren isn't creeping around every corner looking for Levi, thinking about Levi, or attempting to show Levi something he'd just realized is extremely important (like using the toilet, or being able to get himself a glass of water), Eren is contemplating his own existence in general.
The only good thing about this– occurrence, if that's what it should be called, is that Eren's currently on vacation for the holiday, and doesn't have to go back to work for a week. Still, the precious days are trickling away, and he has no idea what he's going to do once he's set to return to work.
He has no idea about a lot of things, unfortunately. Honestly, he's amazed he's still alive; it certainly wouldn't have surprised him if he'd died of a heart attack sometime during all of this.
On the fourth day of his Levi-is-a-cat-but-also-somehow-a-human life, Eren decides to consider the idea of showering Levi.
"Impossible," he declares after approximately two seconds. There's literally no way, for all he is willing to do for Levi, this– it's just a step too far. From the cold sweat breaking on his brow, it's actually about twenty steps too far.
He rolls his shoulders in an effort to relax. Instead, his neck pops strangely, making him wince.
It's fine, he'll just– have to somehow explain to Levi how and what he should do. It should be fine? Yes, because cats just love water to begin with. He almost laughs but holds it in, unsure exactly how close he currently is to hysteria. Best not to risk any sudden outbursts.
Still, the fact remains, Levi's black hair is looking much darker as the days go by, and simply changing clothes isn't going to cut it. Eren has to bite the bullet.
Levi much prefers lounging around in Eren's robe, but luckily for Eren's probably-forming heart condition, he's managed to wrangle Levi into proper clothes a few times - 'proper' being one of Eren's slightly too large t-shirts and a pair of boxers, as Levi doesn't seem to like long sweatpants. Eren supposes he must be pretty warm most of the time, even though he's no longer a cat.
Except he is, and yet he isn’t, and as used to Eren is getting to seeing human Levi, as much as he expects it now, he's unable to shake how wrong all of this is.
There's nothing he can do about it, however. For now, he has finished folding the laundry, and must attempt his next mission. He scoops the clean bathrobe from the basket, folding it haphazardly in his arms as he makes his way down the hallway. He pauses to watch Levi for a moment.
Currently he is sitting on one corner of the couch, the opposite of where Eren usually sits, looking at the television. The volume is turned low, though Levi doesn't seem to mind. On a random whim when he'd desperately needed to go out, just to run to the corner market, Eren had tried putting on the nature channel to keep Levi entertained. To his delight, it had worked; Levi's eyes had seemed to glow particularly bright as the wide shot of the trees suddenly focused in on a bird's nest in one of them.
Eren couldn't help a soft laugh, chest a little lighter as he'd slipped out the door. By the time he'd returned twenty minutes later, however, Eren had been in a state of panic, bursting through the door like a madman, practically tripping over his own feet as he'd rushed forward, leaving the door open in his haste.
"Levi!" he'd yelled, not waiting for a response. Once he'd caught sight of Levi sitting on the couch, turned to the side, now, toward the sound of Eren's voice, his heart had stopped trying to escape his chest. He'd let Levi rest his head in his lap again that night, let himself run his fingers through Levi's dark hair.
Should he have done that? Eren's so confused, he truly has no idea what he should and shouldn't be doing anymore. His first step should be realizing there's no way any of this is actually happening, but no matter how much he's pinched himself, he isn't snapping out of it.
Despite everything, he's trying his best to take care of Levi, like he'd promised, but Levi is certainly not a pet anymore, nor is he a child. He's just– he's Levi. Levi, whose presence has grown necessary to him, though yes, it had been as a cat. Still, Eren feels it, that tug in his chest.
He sighs, closing his eyes briefly. Is what he's doing right?
More importantly, how can he ask Levi if it is?
Levi has spoken two times after the initial 'Eren' incident, which he still can't properly think about without flushing from his head to his toes. It had only been simple, a few words here and there, still spoken softly, like someone just getting used to their voice, perhaps.
Eren hadn't even considered that Levi would be able to talk, though to be fair, he hadn't considered much at all with the way his head had been spinning that first day. He wonders how Levi's thoughts form for him in this different body, if it's overwhelming. Is it hard to grasp the words he wants to say, or is his quietness just a remnant of the way he'd acted as a cat?
Eren wants to ask him a million questions, but that wouldn't be right, either, would it?
He blinks his eyes open, shaking his head in irritation at himself. There's no point in going down this road again, he's been down it a hundred times already and no answer has come to him yet.
"Hey, Levi," he calls softly, taking a step forward.
Levi turns to look at Eren without hesitation, the nature program forgotten. Eren can't help a small smile.
"I want to show you something." He can practically see the gears turning in Levi's head, his eyes just as calculating as always; the last thing he'd attempted to show Levi had been folding laundry after he'd followed Eren into the bedroom, but he'd quickly lost interest. Eren lifts the robe in his arms slightly as a peace offering. "Afterward, you can put this on again."
Probably a cheap tactic, but Levi is clearly more open to what Eren has in mind. There's something endearing, something downright innocent in the way he trusts Eren, but there's a part of him that feels guilty as he watches Levi rise from the couch. Maybe he's earned that trust from cat Levi, but he feels like he still has to properly earn it from Levi now.
He intends to, whether anyone is keeping score or not.
"Let's go," Eren says cheerfully, leading the way to the bathroom. Levi moves as stealthily as when he'd been a cat, and Eren must make a conscious effort not to turn around to see if Levi is actually following after him. His heart rate steadily increases the closer they get, but he ignores it.
"Here we are," he announces unnecessarily. He steps aside so Levi can enter first.
Eren places the bundled robe on the counter nervously, barely resisting the urge to wipe a hand across his suddenly sweaty forehead. When he turns, Levi is standing in the middle of the room, gazing at him curiously.
Eren swallows.
There's no way this is going to end well.
–
Somehow, he gets through explaining the basics of a shower to Levi, though the world goes a little dark when Levi starts trying to remove his shirt while Eren's still talking. Without using actual words, just panicked sounds and hand motions, Eren luckily convinces him to stop.
When he's nearly finished babbling, he silently thanks anyone and anything that Levi's instinct to clean by licking himself appears not to have carried over. If it had, Eren would, without a doubt, would be dead at this very moment.
After seeing Levi's hesitation once the shower head is turned on, Eren takes a step right into the shower, unthinking. Unfortunately, he is still fully clothed. He quickly works to turn his grimace into a bright smile as the water seeps through his pants.
"See, Levi? It's perfectly fine." He splashes some water onto his face. "It feels nice!"
He squints a little, trying to blink the water out of his eyes. It could just be his compromised vision, but Levi appears unimpressed.
After some more cajoling - this time standing on the bathroom tile, dripping pathetically - Eren leaves the room, closing the door over to give Levi some privacy. Levi certainly isn't worried about his decency, but Eren wouldn't feel right if he didn't at least try to preserve it.
Visions of all the bare skin Eren's already laid eyes on swim through his memory before he vigorously rubs at his eyelids, fighting the heat rising in his cheeks. There's no way he can think about something like that now, or ever, actually– he values his life, and thinking back on such things is incredibly dangerous.
Eren attempts to calm himself. The door is still slightly open, and he listens for a few moments for the sound of Levi actually getting into the shower. Eventually he hears a shift in the spray of the water, and is unable to stop a pleased smile.
He makes his way to his room, desperate to get out of these clothes. He almost trips as his brain traitorously supplies an unwanted image of Levi under the spray of the shower. As he rights himself, Eren wonders why he didn't just let himself fall forward to bang his head against the wall.
–
Some time later, Eren hears the water stop running. In turn, his eyes stop moving over the page he'd been reading, though, to be honest, he isn't sure he'd absorbed anything this whole time.
He forces himself to go into the kitchen, wandering aimlessly until he settles on getting a glass of water. A tentative sip turns into two large gulps that drain the glass, leaving Eren gasping for breath.
He can do this.
–
The sight of Levi sleeping in his - no, Eren's - loosely-tied bathrobe, hair damp and cheeks still rosy from the warmth of the shower, hands sweetly curled about Eren's pillow is almost enough to cause Eren to crush the glass he's -for some reason - still holding in his hand. He settles for closing his eyes and counting to ten.
He accidentally counts to eighty-three before regaining his senses and stumbling out of the room.
–
Eren's been sleeping on the couch whenever Levi dozes in his bed, which seems to be much more frequently than when Levi had been a cat. Being home these past few days might have something to do with Eren noticing this fact, however.
He's sprawled awkwardly across the couch, staring at the ceiling. Sleep is evading him tonight, and he doesn't know why.
Well, that's a blatant lie. There's a very big reason, one in the shape of a human, who previously used to be a small cat that could fit in Eren's lap.
Why, why does he have to be caught in this spiral of madness? His life had been so normal and uneventful, just how he'd liked it, and now–
Eren nearly jumps at the soft creak of the floorboard. He slowly tilts his head, gazing up at Levi, clad in the robe. His throat grows tight. This angle is wrong, all wrong–
Why hadn't he just thrown the robe in the trash at this point? More importantly, why does Levi have to like wearing the damn thing so much? Eren can't possibly throw it away knowing that. He's just as much a pushover now as he's ever been, when it comes to Levi.
Eren tries not to melt into the cushions as Levi asks, in a voice softened with sleep, when he can have another shower. Contentment rolls off of him in waves, matching the way Eren's robe nearly rolls off of his shoulders.
Eren lets out a strangled sound, gripping the arm of the couch.
Levi waits patiently for an answer, nose crinkling a little as a yawn almost overtakes him.
"Never," Eren croaks.
Levi tilts his head, eyebrows drawn together. Eren's heart pangs.
Okay, maybe that had been a bit drastic.
"I- I mean, I don't know." He wants to sit up properly, but his limbs still feel rather weak. "We'll see," he adds.
Part of him yearns to say right now, of course and lead Levi back to his new love, the shower, but something like every other day seems like a better option. Both for Levi’s cleanliness and Eren's water bill, but most importantly, for Eren's sanity - which, to be fair, is already long lost.
–
After all the excitement - and by excitement, he means yet another near death experience - Eren ends up making a cup of tea and sitting at the kitchen table. If he tilts his head to the side a bit, he can see Levi lounging on the couch. He makes a mental note to buy a longer robe that will cover more of Levi's legs, not that he was looking.
He fishes his phone out of his pocket, scrolling through the unanswered texts guiltily. His friends probably think he's an asshole, either that or he's been murdered; they're probably leaning toward the asshole part, as the police haven't shown up knocking down his door yet.
He shoves his phone back in his pocket with a heavy sigh. He'll explain himself, eventually - and by explain himself, he means come up with a seamless, carefully crafted lie that no one will ever question - and everything will be hunky-dory.
If one thing hasn’t changed during all of this, it's that Eren's still bad at lying to himself. He closes his eyes and runs his hands along his face. It's well after midnight, and he dearly needs some sleep.
He stops by the side of the couch for a moment to watch Levi dozing. The brightness of the television shines a bit of light on his features.
A small smile curls at his lips. How can anyone nap so much, even if they're a cat?
Before he knows it, he's carding his fingers gently through Levi's hair. Something tender curls in his chest, and for a moment instead of questioning it, Eren lets himself embrace it.
Just for a moment.
–
Eren doesn't know how long he'd been asleep, but the dip of the mattress beside him has his eyelids snapping open before he's even sure whether he's dreaming or not.
The careful movements cease, the sound of even breathing all that's left. Eren's heartbeat pounds in his ears.
How much more is Eren meant to deal with? He's honestly only hanging on by a thread here, Levi sleeping in his bed with him is just–
Levi doesn't know, it's not his fault, so how can Eren–
Eren's fingers curl in the sheets, eyes scrunched shut. Why does it have to be wrong for Levi to want to sleep beside him, to find comfort in it? Why can't Eren feel the same?
Gently, Eren rolls to his back, blinking a few times in the darkness to assess the situation. Levi is on his side, his preferred position, facing Eren. Thankfully the robe is still secured around his body, letting Eren breathe almost normally again. After another moment's hesitation, Eren shifts to his side, now facing Levi.
He's been trying to stop treating Levi like a cat, but he has no idea how Levi feels about it. Does he miss the physical affection? Eren's fingers twitch at his side.
It's so stupid, but–
Eren misses it, knows deep down that Levi must, too. He can see the way Levi perks up sometimes, like he's expecting something when Eren approaches, sits beside him, and– he holds himself back.
And why is that? Because it's wrong? Who can say anything about any of this, really? It's not like Eren had asked for it, not like he knows what the rules are, if there are any.
He lifts his hand, brings it to Levi's face. His heart thunders in his chest as he lets his hand simply lie there, cradling Levi's cheek.
The universe doesn't come crashing down around them. In fact, it feels right. Eren's nowhere close to figuring any of this out, but this, being able to be close to Levi without mentally chastising himself, feels right.
So lost he is in his own thoughts, his own contentment, Eren only belatedly realizes Levi's eyes are now open. Are they glittering, or is Eren just imagining it? He gazes silently at Eren, unmoving.
Eren considers pulling his hand back, telling Levi to go back to sleep. He doesn't.
"Sorry if I woke you," he whispers. He feels silly immediately after the words leave his mouth.
As if on cue, Levi yawns, eyes crinkling shut. Eren laughs gently, shifting his hand to pat at Levi's hair. A gradual, familiar rumble builds from Levi, makes Eren's ears darken, pleased.
Levi's eyes crack open halfway, his gaze lazy yet somehow also urging Eren to keep petting away. Eren does, a small smile curling at his lips.
"You can tell me if you want some affection," he murmurs, swirling Levi's hair between his fingers, brushing an ear. He doesn't expect a reply, but Levi seems to shift further into his touch. Eren's heart squeezes.
Has anyone had a delusion that's lasted this long? Probably, he should look it up online sometime soon, along with ways to knock yourself out of it, back into reality. But for now, with this not-cat-but-quite-human Levi before him, content beneath his hand, it's hard to believe this is something he could wake up from.
He licks his lips, mouth a little dry. "Hey, Levi."
He doesn't know why he's doing this; he's not going to receive an answer. Still, he yearns to know, has longed to for a long time, now, before any of the craziness over the last few days had ever happened.
"Are you happy here? With me?"
It's dumb, the way he holds his breath, fingers stilled in Levi's hair. He lets his hand slip away, to the pillow between them. Honestly, what is he expecting?
Levi blinks once, twice, the comforting vibration quieting a bit. It's just as disappointing hearing it fade now as when Levi had been a cat.
Eren lies still, waiting for something, though he doesn't know what.
In slow motion, Levi's hand slides up, fingers gliding over Eren's. The light, barely there touch turns more solid, the press of his palm warming more than just Eren's hand.
Eren's fingers twitch, his heart desperately trying to escape the confines of his body as he watches Levi's lips just barely part, hears the gentlest rumble in his answer.
One word, a simple "Yes", and Eren feels like he could nearly burst - not just his chest, but all of him, and if he fainted now he wouldn't even mind.
