Joe doesn’t usually find himself stuck outside of Mooney’s bookstore. Usually, he just forgets the tattered keys in the backseat of his dingy car, but this time there was no jingling, clanking, twinkling of any kind to alert him. So here he was, stuck outside one of the remaining vintage bookstores in New York City alongside about a few tens more customers awaiting its Christmas sale. God, what kind of bookstore owner would he be to be so mindless? He internally facepalms.
The crowd is rowdy today, much more than last year when Mr. Mooney was still here. Pasco isn’t here today either, Joe’s already scouted the line thrice. Which is odd, for a kid with nothing to do on a festive holiday. Maybe he’s just at home with his suspicious, likely-abusive father. But Joe isn’t caring about that right now. He shuffles his hands through the innards of his flimsy denim skinny jeans for another time. They’d gone out of fashion a few years back, but he continues insisting Ethan it has sentimental value – the scent of Beck.
Beck was different. She had mid-length blonde hair that complimented her chick ocean eyes. She was a literature major, perfect for a bookstore worker like Joe. She was sweet, but short-lasting. Last year, she came to the Christmas Sale early, teasing Joe on his old Samsung phone that she’d been waiting since six am to see the newly released thriller Salinger book on Christmas weekend. Joe was still too shy to tell her New York Times best sellers rotate every week, and it’d have been out of print by the time she got down to New York, Broome Street. Still, Joe admired her resilience. She got her book eventually, that same day. Joe said it was “her lucky day” when he pulled it from under the counter – he saved a copy a week earlier.
That was a long, long time ago.
She went missing yesterday. Joe still hasn’t got around to put up missing persons posters or call the police. He was sure her friends got her back, those witty blonde girls that drank too much Starbucks. Joe was sure to have put Beck’s book on sales today, well, Guinevere Beck’s biography, printed in black and white. Maybe that black-and-white vibe wasn’t the right mood considering she just turned into thin air over a cold winter’s night. Maybe he was just being lazy again, not being so stressed about his girlfriend’s disappearance, forgetful. He ruffled his pockets another time.
Where were his keys? He wasn’t sure, but he was starting to get desperate, and oddly sweaty under the sight of the growing, perplexed onlookers. Mooney’s would remain closed for the next hour at this rate.
He began banging on the wooden-framed front door, somewhat subconsciously. Don’t worry, he’s obviously an employee under that dark baseball cap. He wasn’t so sure he locked that basement, and he is certain there is something, someone, somewhere in there tearing down on the bulletproof casing box of glass. Someone with golden hair, a soft smile, and a caring nature that could flip and be destroyed, demined in an instance. Someone who he distinctly remembers crying next to despite being the perpetrator just a day prior. He hides the remaining patch of her stained bloody coat in his buttoned jacket pocket.
Is he going to have to call Ethan to help? Or even Pasco, maybe - Joe doesn't have many he can count on. He runs through an internal contacts list, a safety check. Per the safety for himself, of course.
description: yuri talks to victor on the phone about what love is to him, as reference for him to understand his feelings about a certain boy who’s name starts with o and ends with k
also this is my first time even writing about otayuri and i think the ship is pretty cute okay but yeah, oops.
the time on the small, clock that stood in the darkness on the bed side table read 2:45 AM. victor didn’t know why he was awake at a time like this, especially with practice in the morning. he shifted his head to find yuuri’s body pressed into him, his head tucked into the middle of victor’s bare back. the younger man was sleeping soundly, victor smiled fondly and shifted off the bed carefully.
since he was up, he might as well get a drink. adjusting the blankets back onto his sleeping lover, victor grabbed his phone off the charger and slipped into a pair of sweats that belonged to yuuri (it was left on the floor by accident in his offense).
heading out of the room to not disturb yuuri’s slumber. once in the kitchen, victor placed his phone down on the island and opened the fridge. being blinded by the bright light, he grasped for the bottle of water on the side and shutting it.
victor unlocked his phone, greeted with a message that had been sent not too long ago.
yuri - u up?
the message was sent about five minutes ago, victor realized he didn’t put his vibration back on after seeing a film with yuuri for their date last night. victor decided to reply, curious about why the teenager texted him this late.
victor - yeah, what’s up?
he chugged after the bottle before his phone went off this time and he unlocked it to read.
yuri - can i call you and ask you something?
yuri wants to call him? out of all the people in the world?
now victor was extremely curious, he glanced down the hallway to find nothing before pressing the call button and bringing the phone to his ear. it rung a couple times before there was a shuffle of what sounded like the other side picked up.
“hey,” yuri murmured, victor smiled graciously.
“hi, yurio. something on your mind?”
there was a slight scowl at the end of the phone line after victor saying the given nickname, “i wanted to ask you something.”
“shoot then.” victor replied, wandering into the living space to sit comfortably on the couch with his water bottle on the coffee table.
the apartment was quiet, victor prayed he wasn’t going to wake his poor yuuri that was still tired from today’s practice and antics. yuri collected himself, huffing in annoyance at what seems to be himself. victor let him take his time during the few minutes of comfortable silence between the skaters.
“can you- can you like tell me what you think love is?”
“love?”
yuri paused, “yeah. the mushy stuff you feel for katsudon.”
“oh, that kind of love!” victor grinned, “why?”
“can you just tell me?” the young boy replied, victor could hear his eye roll and chuckled softly.
“alright, alright. when you mean what i think love is, are you asking me to describe what i feel for yuuri?”
“kinda, in a way.”
victor pulled his lips into a tight line but let it go, he’s only 16 and he’s still got a long way to go. plus, talking about yuuri to yuri is a once in a lifetime chance and best believe he will take it. the russian got comfortable on the couch, laying back on the pillow away from the hallway he hoped yuuri wouldn’t come from.
“okay, i can work with that.”
yuri didn’t reply, only waiting for what victor had to say. victor put his phone on speaker, setting it down on his chest as he stared into the ceiling above him. collecting all the memories about yuuri since day one and it caused a smile to quirk from his lips.
“one of the best things i have ever gotten out of loving him is that i have discovered my own definition of love.” victor started carefully, not hesitating his words. “love is different for everyone and it’s rare that you find someone that is the whole idea that you have in mind. it’s an interesting process because it can either be one of the best things that has ever happened to you or break you into a million pieces. but no matter what, love is beautiful. in any shape or form.”
“something i have grown to love about yuuri is the entirety of who we are as a whole, it isn’t victor and yuuri. it’s more victorandyuuri. if you catch my drift, it’s as if we are one person together and i love that. i love that he is the one who could sign my hospital documents with ease and remember my order at restaurants without having to ask and reminding me of tasks and goals i have in mind. love is support.”
“there are times i wonder how i was able to live without love, how i was able to push it aside with a problem. yuuri makes it so hard to push it aside, he makes it worth something. having someone who makes anything worth it in the end is amazing, it makes you feel powerful knowing that you have that person by your side to guide you physically and mentally while you do the same for them.”
“love is a two person job, never has it ever been one person does it all,” victor coughed quietly and continued his words. “love is being able to connect with each other and not have a problem with it. discussing problems and coming up with a solution. never giving up no matter the circumstances. because love involves trust and trust involves working together.”
“things are hard to explain when speaking about love, yuri. i hope you know that because everyone has it different whether it be yuuri and i, sara and michele, or otabek and you.” the older man heard a soft huff and let it go to keep talking. “it’s different but that’s what is unique about love. no one has the same type of love. it’s all individual.”
“i could go on about the differences but i think i know where this is going. love to me, personally, is life. i feel so much positive energy around yuuri everyday. i feel as if i am the luckiest man in the world the moment he wakes up next to me. i am on cloud 9 when i go to the rink with him. i look forward to living each day knowing he is going to be there with me all the time, he is my muse. my love. my entire soul.”
victor paused to see if yuri was still there, “a very important thing about love, love is home. it’s the absolute comfort that you can go anywhere with that person whether it be to the grocery store, a movie theater, competitions, or a new country. it will always feel like home because they are there. which is beautiful in my opinion,” victor sighed with a soft laugh. “god, i’m so in love. i hate that i didn’t meet yuuri sooner.”
“yuri..” victor whispered quietly and felt the question on the tip of his tongue, “do you like someone.”
“what makes you think that?” yuri finally spoke up, victor hummed in content while shutting his eyes.
“i don’t know, why would you be asking me this question?”
“i-” yuri stopped his words, letting silence fill the room. all victor could hear was the soft snores by the dining room table where makkachin slept in the bed that yuuri got them as a gift on christmas. yuri shuffled again, the noise in the phone ringing victor’s ears. “i like someone, yeah.”
a smile grew leathily on victor’s face, “who?”
“you know him.”
“otabek, right?”
the phone on the other line sounded like it dropped, the russian heard a few cuss words in russian making him chuckle.
“how do you know?”
“i didn’t.”
“what?”
he bit down on his lip before speaking up, “a few days ago. yuuri asked me about otabek, wondering what your status was with him since he came to visit you for the week last week? yuuri suspected something between you because of the way otabek looked at you.”
a stutter from yuri caused victor to laugh, “what is that katsudon being nosy about?”
“is he not wrong?” victor asked amused, yuri hushed after.
“so what? i happen to like him, yeah. i don’t know what to do though.”
“how do i just tell him? what if he-”
“-yuri! otabek probably likes you. i am 100 percent sure of it, take it from yuuri. that man knows it all.” victor murmured, hearing pattering of feet on the floor.
his eyes shot open to find yuuri standing at the hallway arc, wearing victor’s shirt and tight briefs. yuuri rubbed his eye sleepily, his bed head everywhere. victor noticed yuuri’s mouth open slightly, but it was cut off but yuri’s words.
“everytime i am around beka, i get nervous. my hands get sweaty and my body gets really hot. i never had that problem before, especially around people i am close with.” yuri started with a sigh, “he’s my first actual best friend and i don’t want to ruin it. but every time i see him, i feel like you when you’re around yuri. i want to hold his hand and kiss his stupid face and see him smile.”
yuuri paused to process the thing going on, victor held the phone up and put his fingers on his lips. he motioned his lap, yuuri walked over carefully to plop down on victor’s lap and curl into his body. his hands around him, cozying up with him.
“that’s not weird at all,” victor replied, “people have that happen all the time when they make friends.”
“yeah but it’s different, i have never liked someone before. i don’t know what you’re suppose to do or say. beka is great, i want to see him all the time and talk to him whenever we have a chance.”
“tell him, you won’t regret it.”
the younger boy spoke weakly, “what if i do?”
yuuri picked his head up to face victor, their eyes both shocked by the sound of how vulnerable yuri spoke to him. they stayed quiet as it sounded like yuri was going to continue speaking.
“i really like otabek, i actually want to love him too. but, i am so nervous to tell him. should i just do it?”
victor smiled with empathy, “why don’t you do it the next time you see him in person? aren’t you going to almaty to spend time with him for the week as well soon? tell him then.”
“you think so?”
“do it for yuuri, he’d be proud.”
victor pressed a soft kiss on yuuri’s temple, smiling when yuri groaned.
“you guys aren’t my parents.”
“we could be, if you’d just let us.”
yuri thought a moment, “thanks for.. for talking to me about this.”
“anytime, if you need anything from yuuri and i. let us know, okay?”
“okay.”
the phone call ended, victor set his phone on the coffee table and wrapped his arms around his lover. yuuri pressed a soft kiss on his jawline, peering at him in the darkness.
“what are you doing up?”
“i woke up on accident so i came out here to get a drink but then yuri said he wanted to talk.”
yuuri smiled, embracing victor in his arms and sighed happily. they sat together in a comfortable silence until victor tapped yuuri’s thighs, he complied and wrapped his legs around his waist. the russian hoisted the both of them up together, gripping yuuri’s thighs securely as he walked back into the bedroom.
“i heard you, you know?” yuuri whispered into his ear, sending a chill down victor’s spine.
“all of it?”
“all of it,” yuuri replied without missing a beat.
“good,” victor whispered, laying yuuri down on the bed and stroking his cheek fondly, “cause it’s all true.”
