Part 1:
The booth has always had a weird scent mixture of polished wood and incense. Victor ends up pressing the tips of his shoes into the carpet and he's surprised on how plush it is. Did they finally clean the dull patch of rug or did they finally replace it? It's hard to tell when it still looks the same in this dim light.
And that's another thing. He knows there's supposed to be this whole act of being anonymous in these things but really! If this room were any dimmer he's going to go blind and he can't pull off glasses like–
The heavy slide of more wood being pushed aside to open the grate interrupts his thoughts. And about time too just how long was he going to be made to wait?
He inhales deeply with the new circulation of air, even if it's just the same scent being filtered in through the metal grate window separating the two rooms.
"In the name of the Father," the figure on the other side begins to recite and Victor follows along with the motions of crossing himself in time, "the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Speak now, my child, and confess your sins."
"Forgive me, Father," Victor says, "for I have sinned. It has been a week since my last confession."
"And what sins are you guilty of?"
"Same as last week!" Victor says brightly. "Sassing back the teachers that deserve it and impure thoughts."
A sigh comes from the other side. "You shouldn't sound proud of that."
"I'm not proud, it's just something that happens."
"Which shouldn't be happening!"
"Come on, Yako–"
"Victor!"
"Sorry, Father Feltsman. What is the big deal, you know it's me? The anonymous thing has flown out of the confessional."
"Only because you refuse to keep your voice down!"
"It's a nice voice."
Another sigh.
"Why did Professor Braginsky send you here. Again?"
"I was sketching on my notes. I didn't see him. Didn't hide them. Kinda sassed him when he asked if his lesson wasn't enticing enough. He threw me over here after I insinuated that he should relax with Professor Jones over their lesson plans."
"Victor!"
"You know what they are. He'd be a lot happier if he wasn't in denial."
"Like you are?"
"I'm plenty happy, I know what I am. I'm a godless heathen who is in love with another boy and can't stop thinking about his ass."
"Victor!"
"It's a great ass. Now I'm not Chris, I don't know much about asses, but he has a great ass. His legs are great too. His whole lower body is great, and I would give a lot to be able to get down on my knees and–"
"Victor!"
"-tie his shoe laces."
This time the sigh is long-suffering and Victor laughs.
"What were you drawing?"
It's an attempt to move on from an uncomfortable topic, but Victor is not having it.
"Collarbones. Some pretty great collarbones. I know I was just talking about his ass, but his whole body is great. And his lips! I love his lips. They're so pretty and pink, sometimes I just wanna spread them open with my–"
"Really?!"
"-fingers!"
Victor doesn't exactly laugh at the choking sounds being made on the other side of the wall, but he is amused. He doesn't bother with waiting to be addressed either. They both know that him being here isn't going to change things.
"Yakov, I'm gonna be real for a second with you here."
"Father Feltsman."
"Whatever. I'm not going to ever take these seriously, because I am not sorry. I'm not really confessing to being guilty of anything because I'm not sorry! I'm in love with this boy, and I'm not going to apologize for that."
Another silence stretches on. For the first time in a long while, Victor is actually a little afraid of what would come out of an actual serious confession from him.
"That's not why you're here, Vitya," comes the soft reply.
Maybe it was meant to soothe Victor's mind, but if anything it just makes him angry. "Well, that's what it feels like! You can't tell me that people out there wouldn't say it is! Especially when I keep getting dragged here every week!"
"Maybe if you just kept it in your pants you wouldn't be here every week!"
"See, that's not fair cos it's still in my pants… along with my hand."
"That's why you're here! Love and lust are two different things, Vitya, you're only being accused of one. With me, in any case."
Victor chuckles. "With you, in any case…"
"It's a harsh world out there," Father Feltsman says softly. "I am not here to protect you from it, I am here to guide you through it. My advice to you is discretion."
"That's shit."
"Language."
"Sorry, but it is."
"This is a complicated matter, and not one meant for a Confessional. For now, take your penance and we'll discuss it later."
Probably not, but Victor wouldn't be surprised if he just decides to conveniently forget what was said between them in this small space.
"For your penance, I give you four rosaries and an hour of reflection."
"What?! You're really gonna make me reflect on my sin for an hour? Are you trying to build up my stamina?"
A pause in the conversation as the older man thinks about that insinuation and another long-suffering sigh floats through the grate. If Victor were a better person he wouldn't laugh, but he isn't, so that's exactly what he does. Maybe he has been hanging around Chris too often, his innuendos are far better than what they once were.
"Fine," Father Feltsman says. "Fine! Vitya!"
"Yes?"
"I will lessen your penance."
"Oh! I knew you loved me!"
"If…."
Victor waits for him to finish, but he never does.
"If?" he prods.
"If you can tell me one thing about this boy that you like. One good thing! Do not mention anything sexual or what could be conceived as sexual! Give me proof that there is reason for you to be thinking of him as often as you do."
The room goes quiet. Out of all things that could have been said, Victor isn't sure he would have ever expected that. But… it isn't so hard… to be able to say one thing…
"His eyes," he says finally. "They're… so expressive. When he lets them be. He can be really closed off when he wants to, and I get a little afraid when he does that though because I know it's his anxiety getting to him and I still don't know how to help him like he deserves. Like the one time over the summer when he shut down on me and I didn't know what to do so Phichit had to help him through it even though I wanted him to lean on me. And then he wouldn't even look at me afterwards and when he did he would stutter and blush–
"Oh! But when he blushes it's the cutest thing! He can't hide that and it's so easy to rile him up! Though I guess not so much anymore cos he's more used to me teasing him now, but that's okay because now instead of it being awkward he just laughs now! And I do love his laugh! I do love to see him smile, it's the prettiest thing you could ever see cos he has this one little dimple on his left cheek and I want to pinch it every time I see it–"
"That's enough," Father Feltsman interrupts and Victor stops speaking, but now he can't stop smiling.
There's a moment or two of nothing but the soft puffs of their breathing before Victor is being spoken to again.
"For your penance, I give you one rosary and fifteen minutes of reflection."
"Whaaaat? Fifteen minutes?!"
"It was originally an hour, or should I remind you?!"
"No, fifteen minutes is good."
The confession ends with Victor reciting his Act of Contrition while Father Feltsman gives him absolution. He's dismissed. He crosses himself again. He leaves the booth.
The first step out is always like a breath of fresh air, and the sudden abundance of light always causes him to squint as his eyes adjust. Even if he is constantly sent to confession, it's not something he ever really gets used to.
Victor beelines for the chapel's door just as the final bell for dismissal sounds out. Teens start filing out of their classrooms and join him in the long hallways as he makes back for the classroom he was forcibly ejected from. He's nearly there when he hears that very same laugh he had just been going on about.
And sure enough, there he is! Victor instantly zeros in on the boy with those gorgeous brown eyes and breathtaking laugh. He's walking next to Phichit, talking animatedly, and generally being adorable. Victor can't help himself.
"Yuuuuuuri!" he sings out with his arms wide open runs for the boy coming his way.
Victor doesn't even wait for the other to notice him before throwing his arms around him and pressing him into a hug. From off the side he hears another laugh and the camera sound of a phone going off.
"Hey, Phichit," he says and turns his head to the side to acknowledge Yuuri's friend, "how come you never get your phone taken away from you?"
"It's all about discretion," Phichit tells him. "Discretion and subtlety. Two things you clearly lack."
"I don't know what you're talking about," Victor laughs and only hugs Yuuri tighter.
"Victor," Yuuri calls out the best he can when his head is being pressed against the other's chest, "Your hug is too tight!"
"Oh! Sorry!"
Victor lets him go, eventually. It's a slow process, and if the way Phichit giggles next to them is any clue, Victor really can't be subtle. Oh, well!
He keeps his arm slung around Yuuri's shoulders and says, "You should come back with me to my classroom so I can pick up my things. Braginsky threw me out and into Confession again."
"Again?" Yuuri's eyes scrunch up with so much concern that Victor wants to plant little kisses all over his face. "This makes it, what? A month of this happening every week?"
"Maybe?" Victor just shrugs and laughs. He starts to walk back to the classroom and takes Yuuri as hostage. There's no way he's letting this boy go just yet. "Whatever his problem is with me, I'm sure he'll get over it soon. So, come on! Come back with me to pick up my things and let's go do something! Phichit can come too!"
"Oh, thanks for the invite. So generous."
"I know, right! I am so amazing. Right, Yuuri?! I'm amazing, right?!"
"Yes, Victor, you're amazing."
"See! This is why I love Yuuri the most! He's always on my side! Ahh, you're so red! It's so cuuuute!"
Phichit's camera goes off again.
xxx
Disclaimer: leather jacket collar popped like antenna, never knowing when to stop
-i wrote this last year but never got around to putting it on this site
-shrug