Author's Note:

Those marked with * are not my lines, but I got them from a prompt generator


Turns out that deciding you wanted to be someone's friend, and actually being a friend are two things of varying difficulties.

Victor bit his lower lip as he tried to wrack his mind for things he could write to continue the conversation, to no avail. The text cursor blinked, mocking him.

Makkachin whined and pawed at Victor's knee, sensing the distress in his mind. Victor gave her a distracted pat, and kept thinking.

Ever since the cute ballet dancer (that he was lowkey stalking) had messaged him, their communication had fallen silent, neither side willing to break the detente that was becoming worse the longer it went on. Victor wouldn't mind being the one to cave first, but what should he say?

Victor thought back to his history with making friends, what had he said then? Only to quickly realize that others usually approached him first, and he used to be so eager for companionship that it didn't take much to win him over.

Victor sighed, leaning back in his chair with his eyes shut and hand over his face. It shouldn't be this hard. Friendship should feel natural, right?

Guess he'll try again tomorrow.

Makkachin, seeing the space Victor's body had created, leapt up, managing to squish her no-longer-a-puppy's body between the table and Victor.

Victor yelped as his face was quickly and enthusiastically licked, laughing despite everything.

Hugging Makkachin close to him, Victor laid his head on hers, and reached for his phone.


sometimes you just gotta lay on the floor with your dog*


You have a DOG?

Victor blinked at the message, received seconds after he had uploaded his selfie with Makkachin on Tumblr.

Well then.

Guess Makkachin saved the day yet again.

Yeah. Her name's Makkachin. I take it you like dogs?

There.

Victor sent the casual-and-yet-interested message.

He waited for a second or two, but it seemed as if cute ballet dancer that he was lowkey stalking had gone offline. Victor checked his Tumblr feed murmuring "mood" after a few too relatable posts, while giggling at some and cringing in sympathy at others.

Then his phone pinged.

I love them. More than humans tbh. I would die for my dog. You know that scene in Brooklyn nine-nine, where Roza says "I just got him but if anything happened to him, I would kill everyone in this station and then myself." That's how I feel. About all dogs.

Victor's cheeks were hurting from the force of his smile. He resisted the urge to push his face against the living room carpet and kick his feet back and forth, squealing like a teenager in a movie.

That's valid. Say, I don't want to distract you if you're busy.

Victor considered deleting the last line, not wanting to give him an out, but not wanting to take up his precious time.

He sent the message, before he could change his mind. He waited with baited breath, and then finally his phone pinged.

You're not distracting me, Mr. Nikiforov. Why would you think so?

Victor blushed, and wrote.

Your responses seem slower than before. And please call me Victor.

Victor sent the text, heart hammering in his chest, holding the phone close to his chest.

The phone buzzed.

Oh, sorry! I tend to self-edit a lot, so texting takes some time haha. It's nice to meet you Victor, please call me Yuuri.

Makkachin jumped up from beside Victor at the resulting screams, as Victor gave into his inner teenager.

Yuuri! Cute-ballet-dance-that-he-was-lowkey-stalking's name was Yuuri!

Victor, still smiling went back to his phone, typing out rapidfire words that were now coming to mind easily.


Actually, all of my systems are nervous.*


The days went by, but Victor observed the passage of time not by his calendar, but by Yuuri's texts.

On Sunday, he learnt about Yuuri's dog Vicchan, an adorable toy poodle who looked like a miniature Makkachin. He learnt that despite how cautious Yuuri was, when it came to topics he was passionate about, his usually well thought-out and slow texting became erratic and impulsive. It was endearing to watch and trigger, a game Victor discovered was fast becoming his favourite.

On Monday, he complimented Yuuri about his latest ballet video which had quickly gained thousands of reblogs on Tumblr, and shares on other social media sites, within twenty-four hours. He learnt that Yuuri was as humble and oblivious as he was beautiful, when Yuuri brushed it off as him being "lucky."

On Tuesday, he (jealously) learnt all about Yuuri's friend Phichit, an up-and-coming social media expert, the reason for Yuuri, who hated non-anonymous social media, having such a strong social media presence.

On Wednesday, he enthusiastically talked to Yuuri about his own life, somehow disclosing things he wouldn't normally reveal if not for the distance the chat box presented, along with the feeling of reassurance Yuuri exuded even through his messages.

I love being a makeup artist. The opportunity to remake myself and other people into who they want to be… it's thrilling. Every time they open their eyes to see who they've become, they all have the same look of surprise in their eyes. That look is my favourite part. Makeup is a good way to hide the parts that you aren't proud of or make you unhappy. It's escapism.

On Thursday, they talked about their favourite movies, with Yuuri scandalized that Victor had not seen any Ghibli movie, demanding that they rectify that right away. Victor, with an idea brewing in his mind agreed, taking Yuuri up on his silent offer.

Alright. Let's watch one then. You can introduce me to the world of Ghibli movies.

The reply seemed to come slower than usual, but finally Victor's phone pinged.

Sure. What date would be good for you?

Victor's heart skipped a beat at the word "date," but he shook himself realizing that Yuuri didn't mean it in that sense.

(But damn if he didn't still hope)

On Friday, Victor and Yuuri exchanged secrets.

I didn't actually sell my car, I just forgot where I parked it.*

I feel like a child but I look like an adult and I think it throws a lot of people off.*

Went out with Phichit, and I woke up in my bed, but now it has glitter in it for reasons I do not recall.*

If you think you've hit rock bottom, just remember that my bank once froze my accounts because I bought a healthy ready meal at my local supermarket and they classed it an 'uncharacteristic purchase.'*

On Saturday, Victor laughed as Yuuri regaled him with stories of him and Phichit in college.

And then I said "There's no way a tuba can fit in that tiny ass locker."
To which he replied, "Not with that attitude."*

Victor barked out a laugh, texting.

And did he succeed?

The reply was slow, but it came.

… yes.

Victor's bent over laughing, unable to stop, ignoring the twinge in his heart.

On Sunday, Victor sighed when he woke up, not able to find the energy to get out of bed, but knowing he had to, for...

It was time to go to work.


You don't know where you're going but you're afraid to turn around so you just keep going while feeling bad because you don't know where you're going.*