Throughout his life, Yuuri had painted Viktor in many colours.
"Maybe we should sign him up for another hobby. Maybe there he'll finally find more friends."-"I don't know, darling. Skating and ballet seems to make him so happy"-"Yes, but this does not make him happy"
Yuuri pulled his blankets over his head. It didn't matter though. He knew they were talking about him. His parents were never having this kind of conversation when they thought he could hear them, but he knew that they were having them more than often. They were worried. He could see it in their faces every time they asked him if he wanted to invite other friends than Yuuko over for a change. Instead of answering, he always kept quiet hoping the moment would pass.
"Maybe I'll talk to Kimura -sensei tomorrow about the soccer club"
Yuuri didn't want to join the soccer club. He hated soccer as he hated all team sports. He was a horrible failure in those sports, so his theoretical teammates would probably hate him too. At least that was his experience.
"Yes, but we shouldn't force him to something he doesn't want to do"
Quietly he sneaked out of his bed. Normally, when he felt down he would visit Minako-sensei or go to the rink. If this wasn't an option, he at least had his drawings.
He had painted him in blue. Sky blue shades for his eyes and a deeper ocean blue for the flower crown celebrating yet another victory.
"Yuuri, are you bleeding?"
Yuuri was on the brink of crying but tried his best to appear calm. "Sweetie, what happened?" He said nothing. He knew that he would start crying the moment he'd try to say something and he wasn't supposed to cry. They taught him that today the hard way. He started crying anyway.
He had painted him in red. In a warm and sensual shade of crimson for the dress Viktor wore when he again surprised the world with his free skate performance to Lady Marmelade.
"And how do you like Graphic Designs so far?", the girl sitting next to Yuri placed gently a hand on his arm. It could mean nothing, just a normal gesture in a normal conversation. Her body language told him that it probably couldn't be that easy. "Uhm, you know, kinda nice I guess", he nonchalantly pulled back his arm to scratch his neck. "Oh, and what else do you do here in your free-time?" She was now leaning closer to him than was in any way comfortable for him. "Umm, you know…I kinda like ice ska- ". He got interrupted by a surprise hug from behind by Phichit. "I am sorry, Theresa", he said to the girl next to Yuuri. "if you trying to get Yuuri laid – forget it. He is as gay as gay can be"
Later that night on their walk back to their apartment, they came the closest to fighting they had ever gotten. When they arrived at home, he rushed straight to his room. He felt sorry for some of the things he said, but it would probably be better to apologise tomorrow after he had calmed down. And right now, he just needed to ease his nerves. He needed paper and pen.
Throughout his life, Yuuri had painted Viktor in many colours. He had painted him in gold for all the medals he had won and which Yuuri had wished to win too one day. He smiled softly. The Viktor who was loudly snoring next to him was nothing like the one he spent hours on painting. All the colours were less bright, his body less perfect. He was more real.
Yuuri couldn't resist to gently stroke Viktor's thinning hair. It didn't wake him up but made him pull Yuuri closer to him.
Yuuri smiled more. He liked this Viktor the most.