Can you feel the restless wind upon the sky tonight?

Somewhere

Far away

Two souls are crying out to each other across the expansive Milky Way

"I want to hold you" one calls desperately

"I miss your touch" the other replies

On the wings of stars

The solemn voices ring

Falling

Falling

Un to the Earth bellow

Painting the blackened canvas with shimmering tears

Parted love suffering at the loss of warmth

"I wish to be where you are"

The souls begged

Reaching

Straining

Streaking over the distance that separated their hearts

Presence of another bloomed in vacancy

Desperation pulled taut

Swirling

Binding

They rejoiced

Basking in fleeting happiness

And they split

And fell to Earth

And were born separately

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

A bright morning light streamed in through the space between the wall and the curtain as an alarm was ringing in the crisp air. Its owner groggily opened his eyes and reached out to turn off the obnoxious sound. The bed rustled as he sat up onto his knees and looked around the room in a daze. The man sitting in his now quiet room grasped at the glasses on his end table, swung his feet onto the cold wood floor and started his day.

First was a trip to the bathroom where he changed and smoothed down his messy black hair. Next was brushing his teeth and gathering up his materials for work.

He then walked to his kitchen to make breakfast but saw his reflection in the mirror. He'd gained weight again.

Sighing, the breakfast was forgotten.

A heavy front door was opened and the daylight glared into the dark apartment. Just outside the door was a sign that read:

"Residency of Katsuki Yuuri"

It was a lonely sign. There was no "Katsuki Family" or "Multi-tenant Household", just Yuuri's name.

Yuuri had been so anxious to move out on his own when he graduated college. He wanted to prove to his family that he could make it on his own. Yuuri wound up moving two cities over and getting a full time job as an office worker. Honestly, he wasn't really sure what the company he worked for even manufactured, he was just in the editing division where he would spend hours looking over documents, making sure they were coherent. His job wasn't hard but, he was left with very little time to visit his family.

Yuuri had always felt as if there was something missing from his life, something his independence or his family couldn't fill. This absence caused him stress daily. He'd been cursed with crippling anxiety about his own abilities and made him feel like a failure for being unable to live a fulfilled life. What if he felt this emptiness forever? Certainly the absence would keep growing until it consumed him whole if he couldn't find a way to fill it.

Yuuri felt sweat drip down the back of his neck as he boarded the mid-morning train downtown.

The crowd was especially stuffy today. Wednesdays were always the worst day of the week to commute. The schools had late-start days on Wednesdays so, all the students that would usually already be in class were just heading out.

Yuuri adjusted his glasses as he glanced around the train car only to see a sea of black hair and tired faces.

Same thing every day.

Same thing in every car.

Yuuri rode the rest of the way to work in silence. The office workers greeted him as he walked into the tall, shiny building and he took his place at his desk. He began to open documents on his computer, slipping into the ease of focusing on his work for the next 9 hours. The rest of the company faded away as Yuuri worked diligently. If there was one thing he could brag about, it was his stamina. Yuuri had intense focus when completing projects. He'd discovered this talent during his skating days. He could learn routines quickly and he could skate longer than the others. Yuuri used to ice skate competitively but suffered an injury when he turned 20. He could no longer compete. Still, he would go to the local rink to skate casually and clear his mind when he was overly stressed out.

Lunch rolled around, came and went and Yuuri still worked.

There was a symphony within the office of elevator dings and keyboards clacking. The lady in the next desk hummed to a tune in her head and the white noise of chatter in the halls created percussion to it all.

Yuuri clicked the next button on his screen and nothing came up. He blinked a few times, coming out of his work trance and clicked again. Still nothing. This had never happened before in his two years of working here. Yuuri had finished the day's work in record time with four hours left in his usual schedule.

Unsure of what to do, he stood and walked to his boss's office. Knocking twice.

"Come in" came the monotonous voice. Yuuri turned the knob and pushed the door in.

"Ah, Mr. Katsuki, what brings you here?" his boss said with a soft smile on his face.

"Sir, good afternoon. Um, I seem to have run out of work to do for today, is there more I can do?" Yuuri fidgeted with the hem of his suit jacket.

"You've finished?" the boss asked with an inquisitive raise of the eyebrow. "You do better editing work than anyone we've hired before so, if you are done, I don't see the harm in letting you go home early."

Yuuri looked surprised before stammering.

"Go on a date with your girlfriend or something!" his boss laughed and waved him out the door.

Yuuri stood there for a moment, processing his option to leave early. He smiled and went to gather his things. It had been a while since he had time like this.

"Maybe I'll go to that cafe" he thought to himself as he left the building and walking down the main street. He felt weight was lifted off his shoulders. He had leisure time and he was going to spend it well.

In front of the cafe he'd been thinking about, Yuuri began to feel extremely hungry. He'd missed breakfast and lunch so once inside he ordered a blended mocha and a panini sandwich. As he chewed, he wondered what he should make for dinner. He had time to make something good. His favorite Katsudon crossed his mind but he did need to lose weight. Some cold soba noodles sounded good too.

With the sandwich gone, Yuuri decided he'd walk and drink his coffee on the way to the train. He pushed the door open with his butt and backed out of the cafe. Without thinking, he rammed his thigh into the edge of one of the outdoor tables. The weight of his work materials and lack of a free hand had Yuuri tumbling to the ground. He sat in confusion over what just happened when he saw a pair of expensive looking shoes standing in front of him. His eyes trailed up the slender legs up to a defined torso hidden by a dress shirt and a large coffee stain right on the front of it.

Horrified to look up further, Yuuri began apologizing faster than his mouth could move. He stood and reached for a handkerchief to offer the stranger.

"I'm so sorry! I wasn't looking where I was going and..." he turned to see a face with a childish surprised expression. The man had a lightly reddened nose, icy blue eyes and gorgeous silver hair styled in the cutest way with bangs on only half his face.

"Um..." Yuuri could hardly breathe.

"Are you alright?" The beautiful man asked him with a thick Russian accent.

"Wha... me, OH I spilled coffee on you!" Yuuri shoved the cloth over to the man without answering his question.

"I am well aware..." that godly man chuckled."Thank you" He took the cloth and their fingers brushed against each other's.

Yuuri felt a jolt run through his spine. Butterflies instantly filled his stomach and his face blushed madly. It was as if this man made his entire core shake down to his bones.

The Russian man held a similar expression but seemed more composed than Yuuri was.

"What is your name, little one?" he asked with those vibrant eyes peeking out from his hair.

"Little one?" Yuuri thought with a bit of offence.

"Y-Yuuri!" he said as his voice cracked from the pressure he felt under the other man's stare.

"Well, Yuuri." The man beamed as Yuuri's name glided off his tongue in an attractive manor. "You need to take responsibility for my shirt. Let me borrow one of yours."

Was this man serious? Yuuri didn't know him, had no extra shirt and even if he did, the Russian man was at least a good half head taller than him. His shirts would probably be too small.

"Uh... I'll buy you a new one if you'd like..." Yuuri tried to reason.

"Hmmm" The Russian leaned into Yuuri's face with a strangely malicious smile. Yuuri took the hint that that option would not work. Too scared to go against him, Yuuri wound up giving in and letting the Russian come back to his place with him to get the stupid shirt.

"Wow! What a lovely home!" the Russian exclaimed while standing in Yuuri's living room. He was practically gushing over all the "cute" Japanese items in the house.

"Since you're here..." Yuuri spoke with exasperation. "I can wash your stained shirt while you wear a clean one.

"Okay. Thank you, Yuuri."

"How casual..." Yuuri thought. "Not even a Mr. or Sir"

He found a shirt that he'd bought that was too big for him.

"You never told me your name." Yuuri began as he put the shirts he'd pulled out back in the drawer.

"Oh, pardon me. I am Viktor Nikiforov" he said in a chiming voice.

Yuuri nearly coughed on his own spit before turning to look at the Russian with wide eyes. Of course he nearly had a heart attack seeing the man's bare chest slip out from under the shirt Viktor was removing. Gathering up his mind, Yuuri forced himself to speak.

"The Viktor Nikiforov?! The skating legend?"

"Correct!" Viktor winked at him, tossing the stained shirt at Yuuri.

Yuuri hadn't recognized Viktor with short hair. He'd admired him in his youth and during his competitive days.

"Were you a fan?" Viktor asked as he walked over to Yuuri and bent down to be face to face with him.

"Y-yes... well... yeah." Yuuri's poor heart felt like it would burst with Viktor this close to his face. He was clutching the shirt he wanted to give Viktor to wear so tightly his knuckles were turning white.

"You were an ice skater too, yes?" Viktor smiled a winning smile at him.

Yuuri gasped and held his breath. Viktor knew of him?

"I remember seeing your face now that I can see it more clearly. You got a serious injury on your leg..." Viktor's eyes turned down to look at Yuuri's thigh with pity. He placed his hand over the spot Yuuri had hit on the table at the cafe, running his fingers over it gently.

Yuuri couldn't breathe properly. He wanted to scream at the overwhelming amount of thoughts running through his head. Viktor was so much more dazzling up close than he was on the ice.

Yuuri shoved the shirt he was holding into Viktor's chest, taking the silver haired man by surprise.

"Put this on!" Yuuri half panted, half yelled. He couldn't control the volume of his voice anymore. Viktor was casting such a spell over him. He couldn't figure out what this reaction was.

Viktor observed Yuuri for a moment before taking the shirt and thanking him once again. He slipped it on while Yuuri escaped the room with Viktor's stained shirt to put it in the wash.

While he was in that room, Yuuri took the opportunity to collect his thoughts back together. His very frazzled, scattered thoughts. Viktor was in his house, wearing his shirt, breathing his air, letting his scent permeate his living space, Viktor touched him, spoke with him, smiled at him...

Yuuri crumpled to the floor, letting his back slide along the door. His breathing could not calm down and he was still very shaken from their first contact at the cafe. What was that sensation he felt whenever Viktor touched him? Did Viktor feel it too? He seemed to have felt something back there. Yuuri thought he'd felt love before, his friend back home who owned Ice Castle was always very dear to him but this... this was far beyond what Yuuri had ever felt. It was so intense it was painful. Was this admiration for the god he practically worshiped as a child? Was this happiness he'd never felt? Was it torture? Yuuri buried his face into his hands trying to escape this new reality only to be assaulted by the scent in Viktor's shirt. It smelled like mostly coffee from a distance but here, Yuuri was inhaling Viktor's scent at almost full intensity.

He wanted to stop smelling the shirt and get it in the wash but his instinct held him there. He breathed deeply and a wash of bliss rinsed over him. Yuuri's head was swimming in the pheromones of the Russian and he felt drunk off of them.

"Yuuri! What's taking so long?" Viktor called from the other side of the door.

Yuuri's drugged senses drifted to the memory that Viktor himself was here. Why was he sitting in a laundry room, indulging himself in a shirt?

Yuuri put the shirt in the washing machine and went back out to the living space where Viktor had made himself comfortable on his couch and was sipping one of Yuuri's canned green teas.

"Viktor." Yuuri said in an unusual tone.

"Yes, little one?" Viktor glanced at him with the can between his lips.

"Why did you insist on coming to my house?" Yuuri wanted answers now. Viktor was going to tell him if he felt a jolt like Yuuri had.

"I thought it would be more fun this way. I like meeting new people." he paused and looked at Yuuri who'd now pushed his bangs back and let them fall over his face again.

"Besides, you looked like you could use some fun in your life." Viktor trailed off, admiring how Yuuri had looked with his hair slicked back.

Yuuri walked over to where Viktor was sitting slowly and stood looking down at his goofy face.

"Viktor, why do you make me so uneasy?" Yuuri's half lidded eyes further tempted Viktor to take in the raven haired man's beauty more.

"I make you uneasy, oh, I am sorry for that." he forced out a laugh but felt a stir inside him.

Yuuri was commanding his attention and he wanted to give it all.

"You..." Yuuri reached down and brushed Viktor's hair.

Viktor moved and grabbed Yuuri's wrist instinctively, catching them both off guard and breaking Yuuri out of his strangely erotic mood.

"Yuuri..." In that moment, Yuuri and Viktor had a shared thought. Neither said a thing but something yelled to them that they were meant to have met.

They didn't know why.

They didn't know what would happen because of this meeting but...

They knew it was inevitable.