Mobile screws up numbered lists for some reason but viktuuri with the ice cream one?
5.) my five year plan is to maybe go out for ice cream this afternoon? (Live every day like the ice cream store is closing.)
“Alright, so…the Rostelecom Cup ends on the 21st,” says Yuuri, pouring over two different calendars, the ISU Official Season Schedule, Viktor’s Aeroflot Platinum Membership Card, and a laptop open to Discord where Phichit Chulanont is spamming the “#SKATE_IS_LIFE” chat with memes. “And Skate Canada starts on the 27th. We have time to come back to Saint Petersburg, so I think we should, because the Cup of China starts five days after Skate Canada and I think we’re going to have to go right to Beijing, since I don’t want you to be jetlagged for your short program.”
“Uh-huh,” says Viktor, drawing hearts and poodles on a corner of his planner. The only thing he’s written down so far is “National Bologna Day” below the date October 24th.
“Then we’ve got a pretty long break before Skate America,” says Yuuri, scribbling something onto one of the calendars. “And I was thinking we could go see my parents for a few days, since–”
“Yes,” Viktor says immediately. “Let’s do that.” He flips to somewhere in November and writes “MAMA AND PAPA” with a green gel pen.
“And then after Skate America, we have ten days to go back to Saint Petersburg, get ready for the Final–assuming one of us is in it–and go back to Japan, and–”
“Hey,” says Viktor, sitting up all at once from his luxurious slump against the half of the table that isn’t taken up by the physical manifestation of Yuuri’s neurosis. “Do you want to go get ice cream?”
Yuuri looks up over his glasses. “I’m…lactose intolerant.”
“Do you want to get froyo?” Viktor says instead, raising his eyebrows to a pleading latitude.
“But we haven’t even gotten to Nationals yet,” Yuuri says, looking down at his calendar and tapping the week of Viktor’s birthday, which Yuuri has underlined and labeled “HELL WEEK” in red marker.
“It’s July,” Viktor whines. “We should by enjoying our summer, not panicking over how many days we have to get from Canada to China in November.”
“I don’t think you’re taking this seriously enough,” says Yuuri shaking his head. “The I.S.U is obviously trying to pull some–some bullshit with giving us completely different Grand Prix events, and–”
“So wouldn’t it be just a kick in the face,” says Viktor, as he reaches out and takes Yuuri’s hand, pulls the pencil out, and closes the lid of the laptops. “If we didn’t worry about it? If we just…made it look fucking easy?”
Yuuri sighs, and Viktor can tell that he’s not totally on board, but that he also sees that Viktor has a point.
“How can you be so calm about this?” Yuuri mutters, moodily flipping the pages of his planner. “I’ve been worrying about this since last December.”
“Well, I don’t know if you know this,” Viktor says, winking, “but I’m a very impulsive person. I once moved to a different continent to tell a boy I loved him.”
“Did the boy fall for it?” Yuuri murmurs, tilting his head.
“What a stupid boy,” Yuuri says, and Viktor laughs into their kiss.
“Will you get froyo with me?” Viktor asks, already rising to go find his shoes.
“Fine,” says Yuuri, “But you better find a place with good flavors.”
“Sweet potato isn’t a normal flavor, Kitten.”
