Notes: For a tumblr prompt game: things you said when i was crying.
Phichit was too absorbed in his phone when he walked into the locker room the skaters shared to notice someone sniffling. When he did finally notice, he halted in his tracks, feeling bad for walking in on them and interrupting.
Coming across another skater crying at the Grand Prix wasn't that big of a surprise; they all put themselves under an immense amount of stress and an overload of emotions. No, the surprise for Phichit was whom he found crying.
Christophe Giacometti.
He hadn't noticed Phichit's presence yet. He was sitting at the end of a bench, half in the shadows, and snuffling pathetically into a limp handkerchief. Phichit's heart did a wobbly flip at the sight of him.
Just hours ago Chris had been confident and smiling. He never let on that he was crumbling under the pressure, holding the fragile fragments of himself together just as well as the rest of them were.
Phichit immediately wanted to make him feel better. He had enough experience comforting Yuuri anytime he was upset, and it just wasn't in his nature to leave Chris alone when he was hurting.
"Chris?" Phichit asked tentatively.
Chris jumped slightly and looked up at him. His eyes were red and slightly puffy. It made Phichit's heart lurch, and the small crush he'd been nursing for Chris all season niggled in the back of his mind.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. I didn't know any of the skaters were still in here," Phichit said as he slowly walked closer. "I just saw Yuuri and Victor off, so I figured it was finally time to come get my things."
"It's alright," Chris said. His voice wobbled dangerously as he attempted to control it. He cleared his throat twice and swallowed thickly.
"Are you okay?" Phichit asked, concerned. He sat next to Chris and put a hand on his shoulder.
Chris laughed, the sound a bitter, self-depreciating bark. "Yeah, I'll be fine. I, ah…it's stupid, really."
"I'm sure it's not. You can tell me," Phichit said in a gentle, soothing tone. He smiled brightly and jabbed a thumb into his chest. "You can trust me, I'm the best at listening to others when they need to confide in someone. I've had lots of practice with Yuuri. You can ask him, I'm excellent best friend material."
Chris laughed again, a smile flickering on his face for a moment. He peeked at Phichit out of the corner of his eye, and Phichit was glad to see a twinkle of his usual mischievous charm present there.
"Thank you," he said. "It's, um…I thought that with Victor taking a break this season that I would finally be able to win. I've been living in his shadow for so many years, but I really hoped I had it this year—especially since it seemed like Yuuri had self-destructed and wouldn't be a threat for a second season in a row."
Chris shot him a quick glance. "Sorry," he added after a beat.
"I understand how it is. My close friends are all competitors, too," Phichit said. He got it, he really did. It was a difficult sport to be simultaneously supportive of your competitor and hoping to beat them with your best work every time. It was exhausting, really. Especially when he was competing against his best friend. "It must have been hard for you all these years to always be outshined by Victor."
Chris snorted. "I had my own signature style that got me noticed. Victor was just always the better artist. And Yuuri…Well, he's a dark horse in the shadows, isn't he? With Victor by his side I imagine he'll become the next unstoppable force for however long he skates for. Talk about a comeback."
Phichit smiled, his heart swelling with pride and love for his best friend. He was so proud of Yuuri for what he had accomplished, for earning the silver medal and breaking Victor's world record. He'd skated so beautifully.
"Yeah," he said, ducking to hide his smile.
Chris sighed heavily and stood up. "Well. Onto the next competition."
Phichit stood, too, and put a hand on Chris' arm to stop him. He wanted to do something to make him feel better, and he could only think of one option. Chris paused and waited.
"There's one thing you won tonight," Phichit murmured, stepping closer.
"Oh?" Chris sniffled and laughed wetly, dashing the stray tears clinging to his lashes away. "And what's that?"
"This," Phichit said and darted forward to press a kiss to his lips.
Chris made a startled sound before his hands automatically came up to cup Phichit's elbows. His lips moved slowly against Phichit's. His stubble scraped against Phichit's cheek as he shifted and angled his head to kiss him deeper. Phichit's knees went a little weak at the first swipe of Chris' tongue against his and he slid his arms up and around Chris' neck to hold on while Chris stroked their tongues together and sucked on his lower lip. Phichit made a faint sound of pleasure, leaning heavily against Chris' firm body and wishing they were back at the hotel and not still at the arena. His thoughts all fled when he felt Chris' hands settle on his ass, squeezing once before drawing their kiss to a close. He slowly pulled away from Phichit's lips, still holding his body pretty eyes had gone dark with desire; they darted back and forth over Phichit's face. He looked infinitely better than he had a few minutes ago when Phichit had stumbled on him crying alone in the locker room.
"That," Chris murmured, squeezing his ass again, "is a much better prize."
Phichit grinned and leaned up on his toes for another brilliant kiss.
