Notes

I'm recovered and healthy now, so I continue this fic!

I'm really surprised that you guys like this crack fic, it makes me so damn happy because I thought I was on the saddest part of the fandom who live for crack fics and no one else do. Seriously guys, thank you so much. I'm glad I'm not alone in loving crack fics. Also thank you for your support!

*:.｡.o(≧▽≦)o.｡.:*

I should warn you though, this fic is really pre-slash and focused more about friendship—and cracks obviously. It's gonna be canon divergence from 9th episode (which means JJ doesn't have a girlfriend because I write this fic and not including the girlfriend in mind), although I'll try to make it closer to canon.

This fic could also end up subtle JJ with Yurio, or Otabek with Yurio, or JJ with Otabek, or ambiguous threesome.

Who knows? (certainly not me)

There are a lot of things he needs to do. Such as doing his best on the FS, to win gold and ensure his participation in GPF, eating grandpa's katsudon pirozhki, and so on. First and foremost important though: is homicide.

"PHICHIT CHULANONT!" He bellows, ignoring the sight of confused people to look for that cockroach he's going to murder then use his gut as a toy for his cat. "COME OUT, YOU BITCH! I'LL MAUL YOU!"

Someone in the vicinity, squeaks.

Found that shithead, Yuri can't stop his grin.

The aforementioned cockroach is in fact trying to hide behind his Italian coach—whom looking quite amused as he tells his student, "You should face the consequence of your action, Phichit."

Said student shoots his coach a betrayed look. He's about to retort when a predator grabs his collar and drags the bastard to a corner. "Phichit Chulanont you're so FUCKING DEAD."

"Yuri Plisetsky!" Phichit forces a smile, beads of sweat running down his temple. "Glad to see you! Hope your free skate will be such a great performance today!"

"You know what would be a great performance?" Yuri towers over him, as he is—he remembers—a centimeter taller than the cockroach he's going to squash. "That you will fucking die and I will put your body under ice so I can dance upon your corpse."

"No need to be hasty!" Phichit whimpers. "Really, I'm sure the ISU won't accept murder to ever happen, see?"

"No one needs to fucking know, you instragram slut." Yuri hisses. "Now, do you have any last word before I gut you with my skates?"

Phichit looks around, seeking for help perhaps, though it's futile. Yuri is sure no one will see anything behind the potted plant—which is considerably taller than them both. "YUURI!" He calls loudly. "HELP!"

Shit.

"Phichit! Yurio!" Yuuri runs to them looking frazzled with Victor beside him. "Mmm... Yurio, I think you should let go of Phichit—"

"No fucking way!" Yuri growls. "I'm going fucking to kill him!"

"Please don't! My fans would be devastated!" Phichit cries.

"WHO FUCKING CARES ABOUT YOUR FANS?"

"Calm down!" Yuuri tries to appease them. "I'm sure we can talk about this peacefully—"

"Or, they can just battle it out?" Victor cheerfully suggests.

"There's no battle to speak of!" Yuuri objects, and Phichit nods vehemently. "Victor be serious!"

"I'm serious—"

"GO AWAY! THIS IS NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS!"

"Now Yurio—"

"Yuuri." Phichit suddenly speaks gravely and everyone turns to him in unison. "I'm calling for The Favor number 18."

"What favor—" Yuri starts to say but instead he finds his hands are pried from Phichit's collar and he's on the air and looking at the ceiling.

What.

"PUT ME DOWN BASTARD!" He screeches, hands flailing on the air as Yuuri—that shitty katsudon—easily lifts Yuri's body over his head.

"No can do. Sorry Yurio," Yuuri apologizes below him while Victor bends over laughing.

Phichit giggles. "Thank you Yuuri!" He says, taking his phone from a pocket. "Can you keep that up for a moment? I have to take a selfie."

"Phichit, no!" Yuuri protests, but he keeps lifting Yuri as Phichit cheerily takes a selfie with them in the background before the skater runs away with a wave and a skip on his steps.

This, Yuri concludes, is a nightmare. "LET ME DOWN MOTHERFUCKER I'M GOING TO MURDER HIM!"

"Have you calm down yet?" Victor offers a juice box.

No, he's not. Yuri has scrolled down instagram and that instagram whore just posted that selfie; with Phichit gasped to the camera as if in terror while Victor was practically on the floor laughing, Yuuri grimaced with his hands lifting Yuri's back, and him—Yuri was flailing on the air. He, a supposedly predator, menacing in his prowl, was easily lifted by a katsudon; and everyone would think how pathetic Yuri is.

Even worse is the caption.

phichit+chu just escaped from being clawed to death by yuri-plisetsky!

I had to call The Favor™ number 18 from my best friend, Yuri Katsuki—you guys can see how strong he is, v-nikiforov is so lucky—to be free!

Not to worry, my dears, Phichit Chulanont is still alive and well; nothing will stop me from reporting the latest juicy news from China!

#Phichit #Beijing #YuriPlisetsky #YuriKatsuki #VictorNikiforov

He doesn't know if he should burn the internet or burn himself instead.

"It's not that bad," Yuuri says and he shoots him a glare. How dare him, after doing that thing.

"How can you say that! I'm humiliated!"

"Being viral is not always bad, Yurio." Victor takes Yuuri's hand between his gently. "If it's not because a viral video, I would never be with Yuuri."

Okay, no. That's different. Yuri is pretty sure that video or no video, Victor would still jump into the plane looking for the drunk hottie pole dancing in the banquet anyway—as Mila swore to do just to stop him brooding and looking pathetic.

"It's different!" Yuri—he doesn't whine—retorts; hands tugging on their sleeves persistently, trying to forcefully shake them out of their gross married world. "Everyone thinks that I—have disgusting thing with the jerk-jackass! And now my picture flailing on the air is everywhere—no thanks to you—what about my reputation!?"

"What reputation?" Victor quips and Yuri kicks his shin. "Ouch, I mean I don't think your reputation would be hurt. They would just think you're just funny, right?"

Yuri narrows his eyes. Right, he asked the wrong person. Or the right person in terms of doing ridiculous things. He can remember all the stupid photos of Victor stripping everytime he's drunk.

"Yurio..." Yuuri tentatively calls him. "Is it—is it because the World Championship?"

Oh no, he didn't.

"I—" Yuri stands up sharply. "I'm going to find Lilia and Yakov. Bye." He walks away with his head straight; he doesn't need to look back to know both Yuuri and Victor have conversation with their eyes alone.

Fucking gross married couple.