A/N: Hello! This is my first time crossing fandoms. *gasp*

Anyways, thanks for reading~!


Yup, this totally just wasn't my day. I looked up at the sky, huffing in annoyance when rain splattered onto the lens of my glasses. It rained quite often in Detroit, but with my awful luck it only poured whenever I was outside. Bad things always happen to me, you see. I'm what most people would call a failure. Exhibit A: I've already forgotten to properly introduce myself.

Hi! The name's Yuuri Katsuki. I'm a 23-year-old college drop out currently in need of a job. I have messy black hair, brown eyes, and if I'm in shape (which I'm not), I have a pretty 'decent' figure. Which brings me to my next point. Why I dropped out of University. Oh boy, here we go.

I left my family in Japan when I was only eighteen. I had big dreams to achieve in the realm of figure skating, after all. Both my grades and skills on the ice were good enough to get me a scholarship at the University, and it was there that I took part in the figure skating team and majored in Communications. I know, I know. An introvert like me majoring in Communications? Talk about paradoxical, huh?

Well, you can only imagine how that turned out. I have always been a very anxious person. What's more, I can also be really competitive. On the figure skating team, I was coached under Celestino Cialdini, a stern, slightly intimidating Italian man. My dormmate and best friend, Phichit, a bubbly Thai exchange student, was also part of the figure skating team.

I grew close with Phichit, but not even our strong friendship was enough to prevent me from internally imploding under all the pressure. Nationals came and went, and as always, I choked right before my performance. Figure skating is not only physical stamina, it requires a sort of mental solitude, that of which I lack entirely.

I couldn't handle the disappointment of defeat, as I knew that I could have performed much better had I just composed myself with confidence. I've always been lacking in self-esteem, and well, the loss at Nationals ate away at my motivation. I didn't enjoy figure skating anymore after that. And so, I retired from the figure skating team, choosing instead to focus on my studies.

Predictably, my anxiety pestered on, and my grades ended up slipping as well. I wasn't even interested in Communications and had no idea what I wanted to do in life. I was terrified to go back home to Japan, as in my silly mind, that would mean another defeat. My parents have always been supportive of me, and I love them dearly, but I wanted to prove to myself that I could make it on my own in life.

I switched majors close to five times before I finally decided that University wasn't for me. The idea of sitting at a desk, closed and secluded for nine hours at a time wasn't appealing to me at all. I loved open space, and before, skating used to be the escape where I could let my mind run wild.

Now, instead of skating on ice, I roamed free on the streets of Detroit, clumsily moving from job to job. I hadn't been able to keep a job for more than two months. I worked mostly in the restaurant/ food industry, and being the clumsy, easily-flustered dork that I am, I tended to drop a lot of things, get orders wrong, and stammer a lot. I'll pause this story right now to give you a proper moment to cringe at my awkwardness.

All better now? Alright, moving on.

I had worked in a lot of strange places. My last job hadn't been in the food industry, actually. My friend, Minako, who also lived in the same apartment building as me, had offered me a job teaching toddlers simple ballet steps. Naturally, as I wouldn't put it past myself, I grew bored of the job and quit only two days ago.

Minako and I are still good friends, however. We didn't end on bad terms if that's what you're wondering. In fact, she had been the one to text me about this café downtown that was looking for new servers. It was called the 'Devils AdVODKAte Café', which if you ask me, is already a major turn off for potential hirees. It doesn't give me a very friendly vibe. But once again, I'll repeat myself: I am an easily flustered person. I am literally scared of anything that moves and speaks too loudly.

I pulled out my phone from my rain coat, checking the address of the café one last time. I read the map on the screen, turning to my right to spot the café on the other end of the street. The sign of the café was decorated with glowing red neon letters. The brick building looked rustic, but also charming at the same time.

I found myself entranced as I crossed over to the other side of the street, craning my neck to spot the devil tail design that curled under the café's front sign. I shook my head, freeing myself of these thoughts as I pulled open the glass door, flinching slightly when the new customer bell chimed above me.

The café was much cozier than I had expected it to be. It consisted of several circular tables and booths that all had crimson red padding. The wooden floor was shiny enough to unfog my glasses, after all. I blushed a little when the customers in the café spared me the odd glance.

I was soaking wet from the rain, dripping in fact, and held a crumpled, half-wet resume in my hand. I gulped, making my way towards the front counter. I peaked at customers through the corners of my eyes, knitting my brows in confusion when I saw what they were drinking. Each customer had a shot of alcohol, most likely vodka given the name of the café, next to whatever baked treat that they had purchased. How odd.

"WOOOF!"

"ACK!" I screamed, scrambling out of the way as a giant brown poodle sprinted towards me. The poodle turned and skidded against the floor, plopping down to sit on all fours before my feet.

"N-nice doggie," I stammered, hesitantly holding out a hand for it to sniff. The dog licked my hand, his bushy tail wagging and thumping against the ground at a speed that easily matched my racing heartrate.

"MAKKACHIN!" a deep voice bellowed. I turned back to spot a grumpy, balding old man with a permanent scowl on his face. What little hair that the man did have was shoulder-length and slicked back with gel. He was sitting in a booth to my far right, a newspaper resting on the table before him.

"Where are your manners? Dumb mutt!" he growled. "You're not supposed to attack the customers!"

"Um…well…" I chuckled nervously, raising a hand to bashfully rub at the back of my neck. "He wasn't exactly attacking me…"

I trailed off when the man spared me a look that was cold enough to kill. Come to think of it, his accent did sound to be Russian. Ahem, not that Russian's are cold or anything! Just a little scary, that's all!

The man ignored me, making a shooing motion at the now whining poodle. "Go back to Viktor and stay out of sight!"

RUSTLE!

The man grumbled, aggressively pulling open his newspaper to read from it again.

Makkachin made a yipping sound before scrambling out of sight, presumably into the back room where 'Viktor' was.

I sighed, smiling in thanks to the man despite being ignored again. Ah, well figures. I wasn't that relevant or noticeable anyways.

With no more obstacles in my path, I headed for the front counter again, my eyes widening at the sight of all the colourful food items that were set on display. There were muffins, macarons, cookies, eclairs, danishes, and just about every other baked treat that you could imagine. You could tell that a lot of love and craft had been put into the making of them. The binge-eater in me wanted to devour them all, so much so that I had begun to drool at the corners of my mouth.

"Hello! Are you there?! Tsk! What an idiot!"

I blinked in disorientation when a small pale hand was frantically waved back and forth in front of my face.

"O-oh! I'm sorry!" I apologized. I was so lost in admiring the baked treats that I had forgotten that I had stopped to stand at the front counter. "Is there where you apply for the new server's position?"

I looked up to meet the stern gaze of the boy standing behind the front counter. He appeared to be about fifteen years old, but with the frown on his face, he reminded me more of an old man. He had blue-green eyes, ones that were currently burning right through my weak soul, and blond hair that covered half of his face. He was also wearing a white t-shirt, black pants, and a black waiter's apron to fit around his thinly-framed body.

"Yeah," he scowled, wrinkling his nose at me sourly. This boy also had a Russian accent. "What about it?"

I smiled weakly at him, placing my crumpled resume onto the counter for him to look at. "I'd like to apply here."

"HA!" the boy barked with laughter. "I'm not the one hiring! It's Viktor that you're supposed to ask for!"

"Oh…well… I didn't know that."

The boy sighed, bending over to point at the sign that was taped onto the side of the counter. It read: 'Want to apply here? Ask for Viktor!'

I blushed. I had half the mind to curl up into the fetal position and roll my sorry butt out of the café. But, I was already here and needed this job really badly. I had been eating straight ramen noodles for the past two weeks. I needed this job, and no matter how much that I wanted to succumb to my embarrassment and hide from the harsh world outside, I had no choice but to put up with the awkwardness of this first encounter.

The boy tsked under his breath. "Stupid Piggie."

"E-excuse me?" I spluttered.

"Keh! Are you telling me that you can't read?!"

"No, no. I saw the sign. I'm sorry…but did you just call me Piggie?"

The boy smirked. "Aw, is the little Piggie sensitive about his weight?"

"You are being a bit rude," I admitted. Okay, so maybe after quitting figure skating I had put on a few extra pounds. I gained weight easily, alright?! I thought that my baggy jacket and jeans would hide that, but apparently not.

"C'mere," the boy gestured for me to lean closer to him.

"Um…" I faltered.

"Just do it!"

The boy darkened his glare, causing me to gulp and lean closer.

THUD!

My vision blacked out when his forehead collided with mine in a fierce headbutt. "THERE WILL ONLY BE ONE YURI IN THIS CAFÉ, AND THAT'S ME!" he fumed, exploding in anger for reasons explicable as he crumpled my resume in his hand, tossing it into a nearby garbage can.

I brought a hand to my sore forehead, looking up at the boy's furious expression. "Your name's Yuri too?"

"HELL YEAH IT IS! ALSO, WHY ARE YOU STILL HERE?! JUST LEAVE ALREADY! WE DON'T ACCEPT DUMB PEOPLE WHO CAN'T READ!"

I took a step back, averting my gaze to the ground. Well this encounter had certainly escalated quickly.

"Yurrrrrrrrrrri," a newer, much calmer voice purred. "What did I say about yelling at the customers?"

"He's not a customer!" Yuri snapped.

A tall man with grey hair and bangs on the left side of his face walked over to stand behind the boy, whose name was apparently also Yuri. He had blue eyes and was also slender in frame despite the sharp muscle tones of his body. He looked to be about 25 (maybe older) if I had to guess, and was wearing a long-sleeved black shirt, as well as a pair of faded denim jeans.

"Hello!" the new man beamed at me, his eyes twinkling with a childish light as he wrapped a causal arm around a fuming Yuri's shoulders. "Welcome to my café! Are you here to apply for our new server's position?"

I mutely nodded my head at the much taller man. It appeared that all the workers here were Russian.

Yuri struggled to free himself from the man's grip. "Get off me, you jerk!" he roared.

The man beamed, reaching into his pocket to pull out a kitty ears headband. "Aw~! Why so grumpy, little one?" he moped, placing the headband onto Yuri's writhing head. "There, now you look much cuter~!"

Yuri stopped struggling, crossing his arms again. "I suppose…that I would be okay with wearing this," he grumbled, his cheeks flushing a faint pink.

"Good! Now why don't you do your job and serve the customers, da?" the man smiled, but something about his eyes told me that this wasn't a suggestion, but rather a demand.

Yuri grumbled, stepping out from behind the front counter to glide against the main wooden floor of the café. I hadn't realized that he had been wearing roller skates until now. "This isn't over, Piggie," he said, sparing me one last deadly glance before finally gliding away.

I bit my lip to stifle my laughter. For a punk, Yuri skated quite gracefully. His body was thin and lithe enough to remind me of a fairy, as odd as that sounds.

"So!" the man slapped a hand against the front counter, causing me to flinch, albeit involuntarily. "My name's Viktor! I'm the manager of the café!"

I reached out my hand to shake hands with him. "Yuuri Katsuki, it's a pleasure to meet you," I said, struggling to keep my voice at an even tone.

"I…um…had a resume to give, but…that kid kind of threw it into the trashcan…"

Viktor chuckled lightly, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled. "Say no more. Little Yuri is probably just jealous that you guys have the same name! What are the odds anyways?"

I reciprocated his chuckle just to humour him. "Pretty low, I'll bet. Is he your little brother?"

Viktor shook his head, an amused expression creeping onto his face. "Dear me, no. I give him roller skating lessons, and in return he works for me here. I'm friends with his grandfather."

"Ah," I remarked. "Well, I should come back tomorrow. I'll have a new resume ready for you then. It was nice meeting you!"

I turned around to leave, only to stop when a large hand gently grabbed onto my wrist. "No! No! That won't be necessary! I never really look at the resumes anyways. I can usually tell by one glance if a person is fit to work this job or not. Say, do you have any experience in the food industry?" Viktor asked.

I blushed a little from the contact. Viktor, thankfully, was oblivious to this as he let go of my hand.

"Yes, I've worked for a few bars and restaurants, but never a café," I admitted. "But! I have references if you w-want," I gulped, already feeling myself cave under Viktor's analytical stare. I felt like he was seeing right through me. It didn't help that he was a very attractive man to begin with. Ack! Focus Yuuri! Now is so not the time to be checking out your potential future boss!

Viktor pursed his lips. "Hmmm. I can't be bothered to check out references. It takes too much time. Tell you what, I'll just take your word for it. I feel like I can trust you. It appears that Yakov likes you too."

I followed Viktor's gaze to spot the old man from earlier. Still scowling and terrifying as ever, I see.

"He doesn't look very happy," I said, feeling clammy all of a sudden.

Viktor slapped his hand against the counter again, causing me to flinch…again. My God, I can be such a dork sometimes.

"Don't worry!" Viktor reassured me. "Yakov's actually a very kind man. He likes hugs very much. I mean, sometimes he swears at me when I do that, but I've always found this to be part of his charm. It's quite adorable~!"

"Oh! I should also mention that he co-owns this café with me~!"

I paled after hearing that. "How wonderful!" I squeaked.

"I know, right? I love working here!" Viktor beamed, who I had now learned was completely oblivious to sarcasm.

Let me see here: One grumpy boss + a cheerful, attractive boss + a coworker who absolutely hated my guts = one hell of a scary work environment. Ah, but here's the thing. I wasn't brave enough to back out now. I was already in too deep at this point.

"Come! I'd like to show you something," Viktor cooed, shuffling sideways to stand before the café's front glass display of baked treats.

I followed him parallel to the other side of the counter. Viktor bent down to pick up a cherry Danish with a pair of silver trongs. "What's this?" he asked.

"Um…a danish?"

Viktor shook his head. "Perhaps I'm not making myself clear. Does anything about this pastry speak to you?"

I gave Viktor a blank look, causing him to smirk. "Here," he said, breaking off a piece for me to eat. "Have a taste and tell me what you think."

I took the piece from him and popped it into my mouth, savouring the sweetness of the cherry jelly. The pastry come apart cleanly, melting on contact with my tongue.

"Mhhhmm. It's really good," I commended him, and oh so brilliantly at that.

"What do you think the main ingredient is?"

"Cherries?" I said, immediately regretting ever opening my mouth.

Viktor flashed me with another one of his blinding smiles. "No silly! It's love~! Or eros as I like to call it," he gushed. "Here at the Devil's AdVODKAte café we strive to constantly surprise our customers with new flavour combinations every day! We experiment with the flavours that tickle at your heart strings, the ones that bring out the romantic side within you!"

"What does vodka have anything to do with that?" I asked, sparing a glance at a red-faced customer who had just finished the remains of their shot class.

Viktor leaned over the counter, his face only mere inches from mine, so close in fact that I could feel his warm breath blow against my nose. "The alcohol is to loosen people up," he hummed with a purr. "How can one be romantic if they're too afraid to act upon their greatest desires?"

"I…I guess I see your point," I muttered, discretely pulling myself away from Viktor's ogling face.

Viktor sighed, finally taking the hint and pulling away himself. "Running this café is like a dream come true," he mused. "I live to keep people on their toes. Speaking of toes, are you able to use roller skates?"

Call it a hunch, but something tells me that this guy is extremely airheaded and forgetful.

I weakly nodded my head. My tongue was being difficult and refused to unknot itself, unfortunately.

"Great!" Viktor clapped his hands together. "Let's see you skate then!"

"Oh, no! I couldn't possibly…" Viktor's excitement easily drowned out my protests.

Viktor hurried back over to the cash register, bending down to pull out a pair of white roller skates with gold trimmings on the bottom. "Here you go!" he trilled, holding out the roller skates over the counter for me to take.

I gulped, taking the roller skates from him without much of a choice over the matter. I walked over to a nearby table to sit down and put them on. Viktor trotted after me like a ditsy, excited puppy, which was weird given his tall, overbearing height. He sat down next to me, watching my every move like a hawk.

Once done with tying up the roller skate's laces, I stood up, effortlessly gliding around the café for Viktor to see. It was nerve wracking to be 'skating' again, and despite the stares that the customers were giving me, I felt free. I hadn't realized how much I had missed skating until now. The nostalgia of doing this again almost brought tears to my eyes.

I stopped skating when Viktor stood up from his seat and began to clap loudly. "Bravo!" he praised.

I skated over to him, wobbling to a stop out of pure nervousness. The roller skates were a bit too big for me anyhow. "I wasn't expecting you to be so good!" Viktor exclaimed.

Wow, okay. Way to have some faith in me, big guy.

My nervousness grew when Viktor strode over to meet me, reaching over to fondly pat my shoulder. "Hmmm," he murmured, using a giant hand to sweep back the fringe from my face. "That's better. I can actually see your chubby chipmunk face now!"

I was too busy blushing to realize that he had just insulted me.

"So, does this mean that y-you'll hire me?" I asked.

Viktor brought a hand to his chin, pursing his lips in concentration. "Get rid of the glasses. They don't flatter your eyes. It wouldn't help to lose ten pounds either. Other than those minor setbacks, you seem great! We'd love to have you working here! Isn't that right now, Yakov?"

"It's too early in the morning for me to deal with your childish games, Vitya. At least let me finish my coffee first," Yakov bitterly snapped back in retort.

"See!" Viktor cooed, turning back to face me. "He loves you~!"

I, on the other hand, was still shell-shocked by Viktor's brutal honesty. He was much blunter than I had expected him to be.

"So, what do you say? Would you like the job?"

Viktor held out his hand for me to shake. I don't know why, but something about him instilled a sense of motivation in me that I had never felt before. I wanted to earn his approval, and it was for this exact reason that I took Viktor's hand and shook it.

"Yes sir!"

I would prove to Viktor that I was capable. More than that, I would prove to myself that I was useful…

That I was more memorable than what meets the eye.


So, should I continue this? :)

If the responses are good, I'll get working on chapter 2!

Update December 31rst: Holy shit, wow, okay. I'm definitely continuing this! Your reviews, follows, and favourites give me the motivation to write quicker! thanks so much :D