ACT 5

his smile

"'He smiled bitterly and ran his fingers over the coarse filament'," Viktor whispered, almost silently reading out loud to himself, elbows leaning against the table. "'He didn't know what to think about her words. He felt everything and nothing all at once. He—'"

"Hey," came a rough voice. "What are you doing? Being a freak? Like always?"

"I'm reading. And you just interrupted me. Now, if you don't mind terribly…" Viktor stuffed his nose back into the story.

"Since when do you read?" Yuri asked. He was a small thing of sixteen years with blond hair, blue eyes, and an icy personality.

"Since always, Yuri with one u. I should really call you something else, it's so troublesome switching between one and two u's," Viktor mused out loud. "Maybe Yuri-o. Yurio. That sounds nice."

Yurio scoffed. "What the hell are you on about, old man?"

"Nothing. Just leave me to my book." Viktor waved Yurio away.

"Aren't you going to order something?"

"Not yet. I'm waiting for someone."

"You've been here for, like, twenty minutes already."

"So?"

An annoyed grunt. "Why are you even here if you're not going to order anything?"

Viktor yawned. "Yurio, you're boring me. Go mop or something."

Yurio's face flushed angrily. Viktor found amusement in irritating the teenager because his face would get as red as Yuuri's when he was embarrassed. "Fuck you. What are you reading, anyway?" Without waiting for an answer, Yurio swiped the papers out of Viktor's hands.

"Hey!" Viktor protested.

Scanning a couple of lines, Yurio's face scrunched up in disgust. "You like this cheesy shit?"

"It's not 'cheesy shit'. You're cheesy shit."

"That doesn't even make any sense. God, you're so...old and weird. Whatever, you better order something or we'll kick you out." Yurio shoved the stack of papers into Viktor's chest and stomped back into the kitchen.

"It's called romance, Yurio! How dare you insult this masterpiece," Viktor called after the teen. "Maybe you'll appreciate it when you're older!"

He knew Yurio heard but he didn't get a response. Typical moody teen. Ah, no matter, there were bigger issues at hand. Many involving this mysterious letter Henry has just received from Olivia, supposedly...Viktor shoved his nose back into his papers and quickly resumed being engrossed in it.

A few minutes later, he looked up when a figure stood in front of his booth. "Yuuri!" He leaped to his feet and sucked the author up into a warm, tight hug. He was pleasantly surprised to feel the hug being reciprocated, albeit a bit shyly, a bit self-consciously.

Viktor pulled away and they sat. "How are you?" he asked.

I'm fine. How are you?

"I'm well." Viktor patted his paper pile. "I've been digging into your new book. I can hardly put it down."

Yuuri blushed. It's just the draft, though. I'm sure it all sounds rushed. I put myself in Olivia's shoes for once...

"So—beautifully!" said Viktor raptly.

Yuuri protested. Oh, no—

"Yes, yes—beautifully—beautifully! Oh, it's just so wonderful. I almost don't want to ever finish it because I don't want it to be over!"

Yuuri put a hand on his chest and smiled gratefully. Thank you.

Viktor smiled and fingered the staples of the booklet. Yuuri lowered his gaze. They quietly sat for a moment or so.

"It's been a while," Viktor said soon enough. For the past week, Yuuri had given him clear instructions to not stop by, whether to visit or to walk Caesar.

Yuuri nodded, his face suddenly a serious canvas. Yes. I needed some time for myself to think.

Viktor tilted his head. "What about?"

Yuuri pursed his lips and drew his gaze elsewhere, away from Viktor, out the window beside them. He looked like he was about to say something on a whim, and stopped himself.

"It's about time," said another voice, and Viktor turned to look. Yurio scowled behind his notepad. "May I take your drinks?" He spoke through gritted teeth. Viktor had to stifle a giggle.

"Green tea," he said. "Black. Please."

Yurio didn't even glance at him. "Sure. You?" He looked pointedly at Yuuri.

Yuuri took the drink menu and pointed simply to the coffee.

"Black?" Yurio asked. Yuuri shook his head. Yurio stared him down a second. "Okay, then how would you like it?" Yuuri held up two fingers. "Um...what? Two...two—milk?" Yuuri beamed brightly and nodded enthusiastically at that. "Okay. Just two milk?" Yuuri shook his head again and held up two fingers again. By this point, Viktor could see Yurio's awkward annoyance. "Two what? Two—sugars? Two creams? Tw—two creams?" Yuuri nodded again, still smiling. "So what is it? Two milk, or two creams?" Yuuri frowned. "Or both?" Yuuri's face lit up and he smiled brightly. "Two milk, two creams, then?" Another nod.

"Oookay…" Yurio jotted it down and didn't even attempt to smile. "I'll be back." Before he left, he stooped down beside Viktor. "What the fuck is up with him?" he whispered, glancing at Yuuri suspiciously.

Viktor glared up at the teen. "He's deaf, idiot. Would it kill you to be at least a little bit polite?"

Yurio's face blushed brighter than the sun. "Oh." He looked quite embarrassed. "Sorry," he mumbled, and darted away.

In Yurio's fairness, he handled Yuuri's different way of ordering quite well, actually. It was one thing being a shitty brat directly to Yuuri, and another thing being a shitty brat around Viktor. Only one of those scenarios could be deemed acceptable.

I can read lips a little bit, Yuuri said.

"Sorry about him," Viktor apologized. "He can be really rude sometimes."

Yuuri waved off the comment. Well, he seemed nice to me.

Viktor blinked dumbly. That's a first. "Really?"

Yeah. Most people wouldn't even look at me. They'd always want me to write my order down, or they'd ask anyone I was with if they could order for me instead. A little sigh came from Yuuri's mouth, but he smiled. I understand, though, so it doesn't usually bother me. But it's nice to meet people who treat me like everyone else.

Viktor watched Yuuri with a slight tilt of his head. He wondered who these people were that had the gall to treat this sweet boy so poorly like that, and wondered if Yuuri would be opposed to him beating the shit out of those said people.

Anyway, Yuuri continued. Getting back to your previous question...I was wondering…

"Yes?"

I was wondering if you would… Yuuri paused to scratch the nape of his neck.

"Yes?"

This is probably a silly idea, Yuuri chuckled. I'll probably get in trouble for doing this, but…

"What is it?" Viktor leaned forward in his seat, intrigued.

Yuuri paused and fiddled with his thumbs. This is the reason I asked you to lunch in the first place, you know.

"Of course, but what is it?" Sometimes Yuuri could be so vexing!

Well…

At that moment, Yurio returned, two mugs sitting on his platter. "Tea, and...coffee," he mumbled.

Yuuri gratefully took his mug from the teen with a sincerely sweet smile. He set it down, and then turned to Yurio and signed the words thank you.

Yurio blinked at the gesture; turned to Viktor questioningly. "He's saying thank you," said Viktor.

"Oh," said Yurio. His face lit up, a red flush crawling up his neck onto his cheeks and ears. He fumbled with his fingers and stammered and scratched the nape of his neck. "You're welcome," he managed to quickly spit out. Then he swiftly turned and scurried away.

Yuuri giggled. Cute, he said.

Viktor watched him, fascinated.

Viktor, I want to ask you something, Yuuri said after he sipped his coffee.

"Yes?" Viktor nodded fervently, eyes wide.

Yuuri smiled shyly and traced his finger around the rim of his mug for a moment. Then, he finally spits it out. I've been thinking about it, and...I want to put you in my book.

Viktor's entire body fell off the earth. "What—?"

I...was planning on making a character based off of you. And he'd be the—the 'new, edgy character'. Yuuri smiled nervously. He wouldn't literally be you, but he'd be very similar.

Viktor looked at him. And looked. And looked. And said nothing.

Yuuri rubbed his wrist self-consciously. I thought, he started, it'd be a good idea. I thought you might like that.

"Why?" Viktor asked softly.

Why what?

"Why would you do that...for me?" Nothing he had ever received in his life could amount to this. This couldn't be real.

Yuuri's smile was shaky. Because I like you? He laughed and his face bloomed red red red and Viktor wanted to kiss it right here right now. It's silly, isn't it? I thought it'd be nice, but judging by your expression I'm guessing it's not. I'm sorry. He shook his head rapidly and squirmed and he looked so, so embarrassed.

"Yuuri," Viktor said softly. Yuuri gazed up at him hesitantly. "I love the idea," Viktor breathed. "I love, love, love it. I love it so much I think I might—" He wiped his eyes delicately with his napkin and grinned. "Oh wow. Oh wow oh wow oh wow." He shook his head and laughed, and briefly wondered if anyone listening in thought he was mentally ill. "Nothing would make me happier," he said. "That would be...the most amazing thing anyone could..." He stopped and his lip quivered and soon enough he tasted warm tears on the corner of his mouth.

Yuuri's eyes went wide and he laughed and reached across the table to pat his cheeks dry with the napkin. I'm sorry for making you cry.

"They're happy tears." Viktor sniffed and nodded. "Tell anyone about this and I'll never walk Caesar ever again."

Yuuri pretended to look frightened beyond belief. He pretended to cross his heart and stick a needle in his eye, which made Viktor laugh. "Good."

Without warning, Yuuri reached across once more and slipped his warm, soft hand into Viktor's. Viktor felt his face flush because he could feel every line, every curve, every silky smooth inch of Yuuri's delicate hand. A writer's hand, he noted. Soft palms and long, strong fingers. He squeezed and swallowed the urge to intertwine their fingers.

Yuuri smiled so sweetly at him and so shyly and he was so beautiful. He patted Viktor's hand and then retracted. You're my wonderful friend, he said. I'm so grateful to have you as one of my closest friends.

Viktor couldn't resist the slightest twinge of disappointment being called a friend. But it didn't matter what he felt. He had no excuse if he were not, with all his soul and heart, thankful for knowing such a sweet man.

He rested his chin on his upturned palm, elbow on the table, and lovingly watched Yuuri talk. He was so enraptured by his sweet, subtle beauty that he hardly heard Yurio back at his side, demanding their orders.

He put the restaurant on mute and all he could hear was Yuuri.

His name is Vincent.

"I like that name."

Good, because I wasn't going to change it even if you didn't like it.

Viktor pouted. Then he was thoughtful. "What's he like?"

Well, he's...brave. And strong. He's kind and gentle and smart, and—

"Handsome?" Viktor smirked.

Yuuri rolled his eyes and smirked back. Very handsome. He tapped his chin. But he can be dense sometimes.

"What?" Viktor pouted again. "Dense in a good way, right?"

Nope, Yuuri said bluntly. Dense as in, out of the goodness of his heart he would walk into a dangerous battlefield if it meant saving his friends.

"And that's a bad thing to you?!"

No, no, that's what makes him brave and kind. But he's dense because he's so willing and ready to sacrifice himself that he doesn't even care enough to know what anyone else thinks. People love him. His family loves him. His friends love him. They want him to be safe and he just… Yuuri paused to scribble down a few notes, writing the words BRAVE, SMART, GOOD, DENSE in big letters under Vincent's name. He's stubborn. He doesn't listen to anyone.

Viktor frowned. Did Yuuri really think of him like that? Perhaps he'd been coming off as arrogant when he intended to come off as confident. He picked at his jeans silently.

Noticing Viktor's sudden decrease in excitement, Yuuri nudged him. But that's what makes him a hero, he said, poking Viktor in the chest. He's selfless and humble, and everyone praises him for being one of the greatest soldiers to walk the planet. He really is a cool guy. Yuuri smiled proudly.

Viktor smiled, too, and inched closer. "Good to know."

"Good morning, Yuuri," Viktor sang as he stepped over the threshold. It was bloody difficult to sign while holding bags of groceries. "How are we doing today? Working hard, or hardly working?"

Yuuri crumbled up the piece of paper he had just jotted notes on and threw it at Viktor. I can't think of anything good today.

Viktor clucked his tongue and set the bags down on the table near the kitchen. "Nonsense." He plucked the crumpled wad and undid it, squinting at Yuuri's tiny, rushed handwriting. "'He held in his breath and waited for the guards to pass...he knew that if he waited any longer, he'd miss his chance. He had to move quickly, for the time he had was limited, and if anyone found out he was here…'" The rest of the sentence trailed off. Viktor placed it down in front of Yuuri. "Keep it! I think it sounds great."

Yuuri raised a skeptical brow. You think so?

"Yes, of course. One time, a professor of mine told us that we should save copies of every thought we had," said Viktor, the intellectual. "because you never know when you're going to want to refer back to them! You might like what you thought back then."

Yuuri rolled his eyes. I know that. It doesn't work for me. I hate most of everything I write down.

Viktor frowned. He waited a moment, then bent down as if to retrieve the paper. Then straightened, changing his mind. "Keep it anyway," he suggested. "Just in case."

Yuuri gave Viktor another look, before sighing and tucking the paper away into his brown portfolio. If you say so.

"Are you drinking enough water?"

Are you my mother?

"Is it a crime to be worried about you?"

I'm fine, Viktor.

"I didn't ask if you were fine," Viktor said sharply. "I asked if you're drinking enough water."

Yuuri pursed his lips like a grumpy teenager. Yeah, sure.

"I'll be back." Viktor hurried to the kitchen to retrieve a cold water bottle. He stuck a straw in it and returned to Yuuri. "Here. Drink."

Yuuri stared at the bottle. Scoffed at it. Returned to his writing.

Viktor pouted and nudged the mouthpiece of the straw between Yuuri's lips. To his success, it made Yuuri laugh and part his lips to welcome the plastic. He sucked up several gulps of water and Viktor smiled triumphantly. The bottle was set down and Yuuri gave Viktor a cheeky grin. Thanks. What would I do without you?

Viktor smiled and ruffled Yuuri's hair. "Not much."

He is not going to fight a dragon, Viktor.

"Why not? I think that'd be pretty cool."

I'm not aiming for 'pretty cool'. I'm aiming for adventure.

"Is a dragon not an adventure?!"

No!

Viktor brushed through Yuuri's soft black hair with a comb. Then set the comb down.

"Outrageous," he said. "I read through your entire book list, and this is the thanks I get."

I'm not putting any dragons in my book because I'm not writing Lord of the Rings, Yuuri said. This is still a romance, remember?

"Doesn't mean you can't put in one, tiny dragon."

I can't write dragons, Viktor. I don't do that. I don't even like dragons.

"But think about it. You put in one dragon and everyone will want to read your book. Everyone likes a good story with dragons in it." Viktor picked up the comb.

Viktor, you're—

"Hold that thought." Viktor finished tugging out the kinks in the dark hair. Then he set down the comb and ran his fingers through the silky locks. Yuuri's hair was so, so soft. It was thick and shiny and it fell just past his ears and it smelled so good.

He tied Yuuri's hair up into a teeny tiny ponytail on top of his head. "There. Done." He stepped away from Yuuri's warmth to admire his work. "Perfect."

Yuuri looked at the ridiculous hairdo in the mirror. Viktor looped his arms around the author's shoulders and stepped in close to rest his chin on the crook of the other's neck. Yuuri stiffened and blushed. Even after all this time, Yuuri still got embarrassed being held by Viktor like this. So cute.

"So handsome," Viktor praised, half-teasing, half-serious. "Wow. I find it hard to believe you don't have girls lining up at your door, wanting to be your girlfriend. With a hairstyle like this, you are simply irresistible, Yuuri."

The young Japanese man's face bloomed brighter and he shrugged Viktor's arms off and away, albeit smiling teasingly. Yeah, right. You can try to butter me up as many times as you want, but I'm still not putting a dragon in my book.

Viktor pressed closer, his mouth inches away from Yuuri's ear. "Please put a dragon in your book." Yuuri was so close. Too close. He had to move away but every fiber in Viktor's body resisted.

No. Yuuri chuckled and then he got up and Viktor's body sobbed at the loss. Goodnight, Viktor. Time for you to skedaddle. He reached up to tug the hairband off.

"Yeah. You're right." It must have been close to eleven at night. Viktor took Yuuri's hand and squeezed it gently, briefly. "See you tomorrow." He winked and Yuuri flushed and pushed him out the door out into the rain.

Viktor's heart swelled as he waved goodbye to his friend. He wasn't sure whether to cry or laugh. Just when does he fall out of the criteria for being a good friend into being a hopeless idiot in love?

He needed a glass of wine. Maybe two. (Maybe three.)

He felt it. It. One time. He felt it one time from Yuuri.

Viktor let himself into Yuuri's bedroom. The man was slouched over his desk, typing furiously into his computer. Viktor adjusted the take-out in his arms and examined the room—Yuuri had pushed his nightstand to the other side of the room, emptied out his wastebasket, did his laundry, and added a lamp—sometimes a change of scenery gets me inspired. It relaxes and refreshes your brain, said Yuuri one time—and yet the author looked anything but relaxed in the calmest room of his little home.

Viktor approached and tapped his shoulder. Yuuri startled and jerked and clicked a different tab on the desktop. Then he turned around.

"Hi! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," Viktor said, noticing the dark circles under Yuuri's eyes. "I brought you food."

Yuuri sighed deeply; slowly in through his nose and then suddenly out through his mouth. He nodded. Thank you. He took his box from Viktor and pushed off a few papers from his desk. He made room for his food and opened the styrofoam container of Chinese food and dug in. His eyes remained glued to the microscopic pixels covering the screen.

"No. No, no, no, no, no." After safely securing his food on the bed, Viktor grabbed Yuuri's desk chair and pulled it away from the desk. Yuuri made a tiny noise of surprise and clutched onto his food, then skewered Viktor with a cold glare.

I have to work. He frowned, his dark eyes narrowed.

"Of course you do. But not when you're eating," Viktor pointed out.

An irritated huff. I'm already falling behind and my agent is gonna kill me if I don't finish this soon. He started to swivel back around but Viktor stopped him.

"Five minutes," he insisted. "Five minutes to sit here, with me, and to talk with me, isn't going to kill you." Judging by the redness in Yuuri's lovely dark eyes, it's no doubt he's been sitting and going at it in front of the screen for hours already. "Just sit here and eat with me, okay? Then you can go back to your work."

Yuuri glowered at him but he ignored it. After a few more moments of silent glaring, Yuuri let out a frustrated sigh and obliged. He scooted over to the bed with his food, leaned his elbow on his knee and pressed his cheek against his palm as he slowly ate with his free hand.

They sat in silence and ate quietly. When Yuuri put down his fork, Viktor did, too. "How's your work going?" he asked as gently as he could muster.

Yuuri scowled. I don't want to talk about it. He took off his glasses and rubbed his palms over his eyes. He must be tired, Viktor figured, or angry. Or both.

"Okay," he said out loud, pointlessly, too, since Yuuri was covering his eyes. "We don't have to talk about it." He was hoping to get more information about Vincent, but he wouldn't push it. Honestly, he wouldn't—

Yuuri dropped his hands. I have writer's block, he said, looking miserable. Everything sounds like shit.

"Don't say that."

I can't finish this book. I'm going to cancel it. Or postpone it, at least. Whatever. Yuuri ran his hands over his face and sighed once again. Sometimes when I finish a book and publish it, it feels like sending a kid off to school for the first time. You hope it's not going to be called a nerd, or that it won't get bullied by the other kids because it picked its nose. That's how I feel right now. I'm ready for death. He pretended to put a gun to his temple and pull the trigger. Then he lowered his gaze and picked at the tines of his plastic fork.

It was strange and oddly eerie seeing Yuuri like this. Usually, the man wouldn't crack under pressure, at least as far as Viktor knew. It kinda hurt. He didn't like this weird mood Yuuri was in; it just didn't suit him. Viktor had to say something.

He frowned and reached across the bed to touch the thin, smooth, peachy layer of skin on Yuuri's wrist, getting his attention. He took a deep breath. "Look," he started. He wasn't Yuuri's life coach or anything like that, but he was going to try his best. "You told me one time to have a little more faith in Yukiko. I used to have faith in her, but now I don't. Instead, I have faith in you, Yuuri." He tapped Yuuri on the nose. "Not her. You. And you know what I think about your books. I love Henry. I love Olivia—"

Yuuri nodded, one jerky movement of his head. Thank you.

"I love the story. I love it all. And I know that you can do even better."

Really?

"Yes, of course. You know why?"

Why?

"Because you're an amazing storyteller." Viktor smiled proudly.

He did the sign for 'storyteller'—or at least he thought he did. But then Yuuri's eyes went wide and his brows furrowed in confusion and Viktor knew at that moment he definitely did not say that correctly. Uh oh. His stomach jumped into his throat.

He shrunk back and waited for Yuuri to get offended, or to slap him, or something wild like that. But that didn't happen. Instead, Yuuri covered his mouth with his hand and started to laugh, very softly, and he blushed. Blushed. Dear God, what did Viktor say?

"What is it?" he asked, almost scared to ask.

Yuuri shook his head and didn't respond, still giggling.

"No, really, what is it?"

Yuuri smiled shyly. He shook his head again. You didn't say 'storyteller'. You said I'm an amazing kisser.

Fuck! Viktor's face grew hot. "Oh, Jesus, sorry. How do you say it, then?" Yuuri signed it, and Viktor imitated it until Yuuri nodded in approval. "I'm so embarrassed," Viktor said, and he really was.

Yuuri grinned at him. It's okay. And to think you were doing so well, all this time.

Maybe, Viktor thought, it wasn't so bad to be embarrassed, as long as it made Yuuri smile like that. He took in Yuuri's sweet, subtle beauty and the weight of it was so profound Viktor wanted to cry.

Hey. You okay? Yuuri's smile fell a microscopic proportion.

Viktor's gaze fell to Yuuri's mouth. "Well," he said without thinking. "I'm sure you're also a lovely kisser."

Yuuri's face blushed and his smile turned shy. He timidly tugged the edges of his sleeves over his hands and crossed his ankle over his knee. Thanks. He lifted his dark lashes and peered at Viktor through them.

(Maybe it wouldn't hurt. To test and see if that statement is true or not.) Viktor felt himself lean in instinctively. (What was he doing?)

Yuuri didn't move a muscle. He might've even held his breath. (And then, Viktor saw—he saw—Yuuri begin leaning in, too.)

Dammit.

Viktor took a detour and aimed for Yuuri's shoulder instead. (Shit. That was too, too close.) He wrapped his arms around his friend and gave him a hug.

He felt the surprise in Yuuri's body. (It was better this way.) Even so, Yuuri still hugged back. (It was better this way.) Even so, Yuuri still smiled so sweetly against Viktor's shoulder. Even so, Viktor let him, and held him, and admired him.

(But Yuuri had leaned in, too.)

A/N: Heyyy! Fat chap for you guys! I think this is the longest chap in the whole fic.

Well? What did you think? Lemme know lemme know lemme know. Big thanks to everyone who's left such darling reviews, but also big fat thanks to everyone enjoying the story so far. I'm enjoying it too, these characters are so much fun to write! My GOD legit they are the biggest sweethearts ever.

Couple more chaps to go! The story's not over yet! Stay tuned for moar.

See you in a week!

Stay classy.