Viktor didn’t want to be here. He hadn’t wanted to come, and he’d told Christophe and Yuri as much, but it was the last party of the summer, and Mila had begged him to come, and Yuri, excited at the prospect of his first real high school party, had threatened to pour Nair into Viktor’s shampoo bottle if he didn’t take him, so here Viktor was, leaning up against a wall in Mila’s living room, bottle of shitty, illegally procured beer in his hand as the party moved around him. The music pulsed uncomfortably loud and the lighting Mila had set up was giving him a headache. Nope. He definitely, absolutely did not want to be here.
Christophe sidled up next to him, a red cup in his hand as he put a hand on Viktor’s shoulder, “Somebody doesn’t look like he’s having a very good time,” he pouted as he leaned into Viktor, clearly already slightly buzzed.
“I told you I didn’t want to be here,” Viktor took a sip of his beer, wincing at the bitter taste, “I told you and Yuri several times, but did you listen?”
“Mmm,” Chris mused, “Nope, don’t remember,” Viktor rolled his eyes before turning his gaze back to the party in front of him. He’d lost Yuri in the crowd as soon as they’d arrived, the younger boy eager to ditch his uncool older brother as soon as possible, and Viktor was starting to grow a bit concerned. Yuri had drunk alcohol before, but that had only ever been a few sips of wine at a wedding. He definitely hadn’t been exposed to this much all at once before.
“Well, you’d better chin up, because I think Mila has some plans for you,” Christophe nodded towards the corner of the room, and Viktor spotted Mila’s karaoke machine and knew instantly that he’d eventually be shanghaied into regaling the party with an impromptu performance.
“Why does Mila always do this to me?” he sighed.
“Because you have the voice of an angel and because she knows she has to provide some incentive to come to her parties beyond her watered down beer,” Christophe quipped. Viktor scoffed at that and turned to answer when he was interrupted by the unmistakable sound of Yuri cussing some poor soul out. He looked around, trying to locate his irascible younger brother, finally spotting him in the doorway of the room. He was covered in some kind of liquid, glaring up at a guy Viktor had never seen before.
“Why can’t you watch where the fuck you’re going, eh?” Yuri all but screamed, “You got your disgusting ass beer all over me!”
“Oooh,” Christophe winced, “This is not going to end well,” Yuri grabbed the boy by the collar and got in his face, “Poor kid,” Viktor nodded his head in sympathy as Yuri gave the boy an earful. The kid who’d bumped into him seemed like the shy type- he was decked out in a sweater that looked like it belonged to Viktor’s grandfather, and he wore glasses that were steadily sliding down his nose, his cheeks bright red- though whether that was due to embarrassment or his very obvious state of severe intoxication, Viktor wasn’t sure. He was, in a strange sort of way, kind of cute, Viktor found himself concluding. Cute enough that Viktor thought it’d be worth risking Yuri’s ire to step in and stop this before it got even worse. But before Viktor could do anything, the boy slapped Yuri’s hand away.
Everyone in the room froze. You see, Yuri Plisetsky, in spite of the fact that he had only just graduated eighth grade, was famous at East High School for two things: his incredible soprano voice and his untamable, out of control temper. But clearly, the other boy didn’t know this, clearly he didn’t know what he was risking, standing up to Yuri Fucking Plisetsky this way.
“L-listen!” The boy slurred, “I don’t know who you are and I don’t know why you think it’s -hic!- an okay thing to just like start randomly yelling at people, -hic!-, but you need to STOP”. Viktor took a deep breath as Yuri’s eyes widened, clearly taken aback.
“W-well,” Yuri took a moment to overcome his surprise, “you'd better be ready to pay for my dry cleaning! This was my favorite jacket, pig!” Yuri gestured to his cheetah print jacket and sneered as Viktor winced at the name calling. Sure, the boy was a little on the chubby side, but that definitely didn't warrant any name calling. And besides, Viktor thought as his eyes scanned the boy’s form, the chubbiness only enhanced the boy’s cuteness.
“You -hic!- you want me to pay for your -hic!- dry cleaning?” The boy responded.
“Yes, pig!” Yuri said, exasperated, “I thought that was obvious! Or do I have to say it again slowly so that your little pig brain can understand?”
“Pay… for your dry cleaning,” the boy muttered to himself, his face serious as if he were considering something very important, “I'll pay for your dry cleaning,” he looked up at Yuri with a gleam in his eye.
“Good,” Yuri pulled out his phone, “where should I send you the bill?” The boy held up his hand.
“I'll pay for your dry cleaning if-”
“IF?” Yuri looked about five seconds from completely losing his shit.
“Yes,” the boy nodded slowly, somberly, “If you can beat me in a dance battle”.
“A DANCE BATTLE?” And that was when Yuri completely lost his shit, “ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?”
“Nope!” the boy turned clumsily on his heel and staggered towards the sound system. Judging from his absolutely plastered state, Viktor figured Yuri had this dance battle in the bag. At least, if he could get over his shock and actually dance.
The boy fiddled with the computer that was hooked up to the speakers until he stepped back, seemingly satisfied.
“Are you -hic!- are you ready?” he asked Yuri, an eyebrow raised in challenge.
“Fuck no!” Yuri spat.
“Okay,” the boy shrugged as the opening notes of the music started, “I guess you’re paying for your own dry cleaning then,” he turned his back on Yuri and began swaying his hips in time to the music, arms in the air.
“What,” Yuri sputtered, clearly incredulous as the boy continued to dance.
“I said,” the boy twirled, his body moving in ways that shouldn’t have been possible given his level of inebriation, “if you don’t dance,” he shook his hips again, this time in a way that should not have had Viktor feeling the way he was currently feeling, “I automatically win the dance battle,” he slid across the floor and spun, eyes locking with Viktor, who couldn’t help but blush in response. The blush only deepened when the boy returned Viktor’s gaze with a sassy wink before continuing his dance, “So you have to pay your own dry cleaning”.
“Fine!” Yuri shrugged his jacket off, “But I’m not going easy on you, pig!” He ran over next to the boy and began a dance of his own. His dancing didn’t mirror the mystery boy’s exactly, but it did complement and accentuate it in a lot of ways. Yuri may have been caught off guard by the sudden dance battle, but his years of dance training more than made up for it.
The two boys twirled around each other, Yuri’s face scrunched up in concentration and annoyance. He looked so cute, so focused on the dance, that Viktor couldn’t help but pull out his phone and start recording. Mila had a “no posting anything on social media” rule about her parties, but Viktor wanted a video for his own purposes. And maybe possibly as potential blackmail material against Yuri. Possibly.
Viktor circled the two dancers, filming them, completely taken in by the scene in front of him.
“Go Yuri!” He cheered and Yuri rolled his eyes, a small smile betraying him. The mystery boy danced over close to Viktor and mouthed the words to the song while locking eyes with him, and Viktor’s wide smile faltered as he struggled to keep his hands from shaking. How could a boy wearing an ancient sweater and oversized glasses have such an overwhelming effect on him? Who was this mysterious boy and why was he so insistent on giving Viktor heart palpitations? What the fuck was going on?
The boy turned around, facing Yuri, and Viktor didn’t know whether to be disappointed or relieved as the two dancing boys struck a finishing pose as the song ended and the party erupted into cheers.
“Okay, pig!” Yuri huffed, turning to face the mystery boy, “Pay up!”
“Pay up?” the boy scoffed, and Viktor was amazed to see that he’d barely even broken a sweat, “Do you seriously think that you beat me?” he tilted his head haughtily, and the boy’s confidence shook Viktor to his core.
Yuri sputtered at that, and in spite of Viktor’s fraternal loyalties, if he were being honest, he’d have to admit that the boy definitely deserved to win, and not just because of his strange allure. Apparently, Christophe thought the same thing, because he walked over and put his hand on Yuri’s shoulder.
“Yuraaaa,” he slurred, “Your dancing was great, as always, but I’d have to declare this,” he looked the mystery boy up and down, “delightfully agile young man the winner”.
“WHAT,” Yuri exclaimed, betrayal all over his face, “This is complete bullshit!”
“ “Yuri,” Viktor walked over to his brother in an attempt to avoid a scene, “You need to calm down”.
“Fuck off!” Yuri shrugged Christophe off and stormed out of the room. Christophe shrugged at Viktor, who rolled his eyes at his brother’s dramatics. He turned to apologize to the mystery boy and hopefully to get his number, but was caught off guard when he realized he was just a few inches away from him.
“Hey, pretty boy,” the mystery boy put a hand on his hip and looked up at Viktor through his lashes, who was hit with a painful dose of “holy shit I’m so gay”ness,
“Me?” Viktor mouthed and pointed at himself.
“Do you see another pretty boy around here?” The mystery boy arched an eyebrow and put a hand on Viktor’s chest.
“Um?” Viktor replied eloquently.
“The answer to that would be ‘no’,” the mystery boy said with an amused smile as he looked up at Viktor.
“O-oh,” Viktor muttered, not knowing how to process what the fuck was going on.
“So, what do you say to a sing off?” the boy mused.
"A sing off?" Viktor raised an eyebrow, trying to take in the sight in front of him.
“Yes," the boy stood on his toes and wrapped his arms around Viktor’s neck, "Let’s have a sing off!"
"Oh- okay!" Viktor's eyes widened and he swallowed, unable to tear his gaze from the deep, brown eyes that looked at him so boldly.
"And if I win," the boy pulled him closer and whispered in his ear, making Viktor give an involuntary shiver, "if I win," he paused again, as if considering his options.
"If you win?" Viktor prompted, licking his lips.
"If I win," the boy continued, "you're taking me on a date, pretty boy," he released Viktor and pulled back, "deal?" He asked softly, his eyes showing the first sign of uncertainty he'd shown all night.
"D-deal!" Viktor nodded emphatically, not caring that he seemed too eager. He'd happily take this boy on a date. On a hundred dates, a thousand, a million! He'd take this boy on an infinite number of dates if it meant learning more about this enigma of a person who had, like an unexpected whirlwind, swept and forced his way into his life.
"Good," the boy nodded tersely, his previous confidence returning, "let's do this," the boy grabbed Viktor by the hand and dragged him to the karaoke machine.
Viktor reached out to pick a song, but the mystery boy grabbed his arm.
“I’ve got this,” he handed Viktor a mic, pushing him back before turning to the machine. Viktor watched as the boy scrolled through the song selection, his brows furrowed in concentration before his eyes lit up, clearly finding what he was looking for. He punched it in and stepped back, looking at Viktor, his face all seriousness, his eyes glowing with determination, and Viktor's heart skipped a beat. What song had he chosen? Something intense, Viktor guessed, judging from the look mystery boy was giving him. Maybe Eye of the Tiger? Or maybe the boy had a strategy, maybe he was planning to throw Viktor off guard by picking a song with a wider range, like Bohemian Rhapsody or a Mariah Carey song. Well, whatever it might be, Viktor knew that he was more than ready for it.
But then the music started, and the boy turned towards him, mic in hand, and that’s when Viktor knew: there was nothing that could have possibly prepared him for what was to come next:
“Can I just say something crazy?” The boy asked, inches away from Viktor’s face.
“I-I love crazy!” Viktor responded, backing up a few steps. There was nothing he could do but throw himself into the song in the hopes that the familiarity of performing would help him deal with… whatever it was that was happening. Viktor had seen Frozen countless times. The mystery boy wanted him to be Hans? He could be Hans.
The boy turned away and sang, “All my life has been a series of doors in my face, and then suddenly I bump into you,” and his voice was so utterly unexpected, so exquisite, that Viktor almost fell behind before singing his part. The mystery boy smiled as he and Viktor sang together, their voices weaving together in perfect harmony and when the chorus came, the boy threw his arm around Viktor’s shoulders as they sang.
“Love is an open dooooooor!” the two boys looked at each other and grinned as a crowd began to gather around them. Viktor caught Christophe’s eye and Christophe winked as he took a sip of whatever ungodly concoction was sure to be in his cup. He spotted Yuri skulking in the hall, watching the duet unfold in clear horror and embarrassment. But Viktor didn’t care, and it was then that he realized: he was having fun. Performing had always been fun for Viktor, or at least that’s what he had always told himself, but as he sang along with the mystery boy, he came to the realization that lately, he’d been performing just for the sake of performing- to add to his portfolio, to fulfill some desperate need to surprise people, to keep them on their toes, to keep himself in the limelight, but this- this was pure, unadulterated fun.
“Love is an open door with you!”
The longer the song went on, the harder it was for Viktor to stop himself from scooping the mystery boy up and covering him in kisses. Before, he’d seemed intimidating, untouchable, out of his league, even, but now, as they danced and sang together, everything about the mystery boy was incredibly, overwhelmingly endearing. The way he scrunched up his nose when he smiled, the way he bumped his hip against Viktor’s as they sang together, his beautiful rich voice- Viktor adored it all.
The chorus came around again, and the mystery boy took Viktor’s hand and twirled him, and Viktor had to stop himself from breaking out into exuberant giggles. He’d only had about half a beer, but he felt totally drunk on this experience. He never wanted this song to end, but the finale came all too soon.
“Love is an open door with you!”
“Love is an open,” the mystery boy grabbed Viktor by the waist and carefully dipped him as they sang, “doooooooooor,” and Viktor had to fight the urge to swoon.
“Can I say something crazy?” he managed to whisper, “Will you go on a date with me?”
“Can I say something even crazier?” the mystery boy whispered back, “Yes!”
The two boys stared at each other as twin grins broke out across their faces. At this moment, it was just the two of them, just Viktor and whatever the fuck mystery boy’s name was. Just as it occurred to Viktor to ask, the crowd around them erupted into cheers, breaking the spell.
The mystery boy looked up in shock as if he’d forgotten that they were at a party. He turned bright red as he processed that all eyes were on him and jumped back, dropping Viktor on the ground in the process.
“Ow!” Viktor sat up and rubbed the back of his head, “What was that?” He looked up to ask the boy if he was okay, only to find that the boy in question was halfway across the room heading towards the door.
“Wait!” Viktor called out after him, but the mystery boy didn’t even turn to look at him as he ran out of Mila’s house, “Wait,” he whispered again as Christophe walked over to him and held out a hand to pull him up.
"Who... Who was that?" Viktor asked, shell shocked.
"I think his name's Yuuri," Chris replied, as he helped Viktor up, "Yuuri Katsuki"
"Yuuri Katsuki," Viktor whispered to himself like a prayer.
Viktor types the name into the google search bar for what feels like the thousandth time in a month, but the same results as ever show up:
- An article in the local paper about East High School student Yuuri Katsuki winning an award for outstanding student journalism last year.
- A list of articles written by Yuuri Katsuki on the East High School Herald website (and Viktor has read every single article several times)
- An incredibly adorable and surprisingly well written “letter to the editor” in the local paper sent in almost 10 years ago by a very young Yuuri Katsuki about the need for de-escalation of warfare in Iraq.
And that’s about it. No facebook, no Instagram, no twitter, not even a google plus account. Either Yuuri Katsuki keeps all his social media on private, or he’s one of those weirdos who refuses to get a facebook. Either way, Viktor is utterly frustrated. He’s had Yuuri Katsuki on the mind since Mila’s party over a month ago, and the fact that he’s found no way to contact him or that Yuuri hasn’t made any effort to contact Viktor is driving him up the wall. But now, finally, it’s the night before school starts again, and the thought that Viktor might see Yuuri in the halls or in class is keeping him up all night. He knows he should sleep, knows that he has 0 period pre-calculus in the morning, but how on earth could Viktor possibly sleep when he might get to see Yuuri Freaking Katsuki and his beautiful brown eyes tomorrow?
Eventually, well after midnight, Viktor falls asleep to daydreams of him and Yuuri singing together again.