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Behind the Lens

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Viktor Nikiforov belonged in front of the camera. Yuuri’s thought this a thousand times over in the few weeks they’ve gotten to work together. However, for whatever reason, Viktor prefers to remain behind the lens while Yuuri stays in front of it.

They were first paired together three weeks ago. They were covering the usual night beat story. It was Viktor’s first time working the night shift with him. They were short-staffed photographers on the evening shift so they moved a dayside person to the night life.

Yuuri was an evening reporter for a reason. He didn’t enjoy waking up early. So when the opportunity came up, he gladly took the evening shift along with his roommate, Phichit. For a while, Phichit had been his photographer. 

The day Viktor got paired with Yuuri, Phichit was teamed up with Chris on a breaking news story several hours away and was stuck in a hotel until the next day—while he and Viktor covered another incident near their station.

Since then, Phichit preferred to shoot with Chris, leaving Yuuri stuck with Viktor. Not that he was really complaining. Well, okay, maybe a little.

Viktor was gorgeous. Distractingly handsome. While doing his live shots, Yuuri had to pretend the beautiful man behind the camera wasn’t there. If he accidentally caught a glimpse at the silky silver hair, he’d lose all his focus.

“Now, the deadline to pass any revenue raising measures is in three days. The end of the legislative session is next week I’ve spoken to members of both parties and they tell me that the committee has several bills that they plan to present to the House tomorrow. We’re live at the state capitol, Yuuri Katsuki KYVN TV.”

They held the shot.

“You’re clear.”

He lowered the microphone he was holding. Viktor turned off his camera and began to put it away. He helped take down the lights. Their fingers brushed together on the last stand. Yuuri felt his heart stop. 

He’s too perfect.

Yuuri glanced up, noticing Viktor was also staring at their still-touching fingers.

“I’m sorry,” he breathed, but made no move to withdraw his hand. 

His statement brought Viktor’s attention toward his face. Eyes traveled up his arm and scanned his body before meeting his gaze. Yuuri flushed. No one had ever looked at him in such a way before.

“I can get the last light,” Viktor said.

“Are you sure?” he asked.


He dropped his hand. Viktor’s expression changed to one where he couldn’t read. They finished putting away their equipment and got into the company vehicle they drove to head back to the station. 

Yuuri could still feel the warmth from Viktor’s hand.




When Viktor had first been assigned to work with Yuuri, he didn’t know what to expect from the reporter. Their first introduction was hasty. As with news, shifts could change. He technically had the day off, but was called in to be the night side photographer due to a staffing shortage and the unpredictable nature of breaking news.

He didn’t complain too much because he got paid a full day’s worth of overtime.

The first story he and Yuuri covered started as a report of a stolen vehicle. Two small kids were taken along with the car, prompting a statewide law enforcement response. One hour into the search, the kids were dropped off on the side of a highway and were able to find their way to help.

Unharmed, but definitely shaken.

The bastard who took them was caught just before he crossed state lines an hour after dumping the children.

They caught the parents reuniting with their kids right an hour before the 10 p.m. newscast and were the only station with footage of the family being brought back together. 

Yuuri Katsuki made the story all about the family and how they were grateful to have everyone safe and home again. 

“We’re glad nothing worse happened to them. We know many families don’t get the same happy ending.”

It was the most gut-wrenching piece of sound he had recorded as a photographer so far. Yet, that’s exactly what set their story apart from the other stations.

The competition focused on the terror of being kidnapped and the police manhunt. To be honest, they thought about going that direction too. But when they had talked to the family and gotten the reunion, Yuuri knew the story had to be all about them.

So he wrote a voice over script for the anchors to read about the police details while working on a package of what it meant to this family to have their children back, unharmed.

Viktor had never edited a package so quickly. Yuuri knew exactly what shots he wanted and which sound to use. When Yuuri voiced the track and they put the final touches on the story, Viktor knew there was something special about the way the reporter narrated the family’s life.

He felt connected to the story on every level.

When they offered him to stay on the night side, Viktor requested that he work with Yuuri. Not that he minded Chris—they had been friends for a long time. There was something different about the way Yuuri told stories from Chris.

Chris could tell a story how it was, but Yuuri was invested in each assignment. He made the story come to life. Viktor had never worked with a reporter who could write with such emotion.

Even when they were covering what was happening at their state’s capitol, the stories were about the people, the unease as the days ticked by with neither political side willing to budge.

Honestly, Viktor could care less about politics. The only reason he knew what was going on was because Yuuri explained it so well. Little by little, Viktor was coming to realize how much he was falling for his reporter counterpart. 

Yuuri was gorgeous-looking through his lens. Before they would go on air, the reporter would bite his lip and furrow his brows together while reading through the material one last time.

As if Yuuri hadn’t been practicing exactly what to say for the past fifteen minutes. Those habits were little details that only he got to see. Because on-camera Yuuri was completely different from his off-camera persona and Viktor loved them both.

He was glad they were done for the evening. For some reason, the whiplash of politics had taken a harder toll on him today than the rest.

However, his previous exhaustion was completely forgotten when his fingers met Yuuri’s on a light stand. He couldn’t help it. Viktor let himself imagine what those soft fingers would feel like against his body.

If the rest of Yuuri’s body would feel the same and what type of physique was hidden under those clothes.

Don’t think about that now.

The innocent touch had set off a series of awful thoughts in his mind. Viktor didn’t regret them one bit.

Okay, he regretted them a little. Only because he teased his mind with something he’d never be able to have.

“I can get the last light.”

Stupid. Why was he trying to get keep Yuuri from touching him?

When Yuuri withdrew his hand, Viktor felt the loss instantly. The reporter had brought warmth to his body (“In more ways than one,” Chris would tease after hearing the story). Now, everything returned to its usual cold feeling. He hated it and wanted Yuuri to hold his hand all the time.

They didn’t say anything on the ride back to the station. Most of the time, Viktor left first. Yuuri would say an extra half hour, at least, to write a VOSOT for the morning show. 

Today, he decided to stay behind. He had to know more about Yuuri.

Even though he had learned plenty about the man in the three weeks they had worked together, it wasn’t enough.




When Viktor decided to stick around, Yuuri was surprised. Viktor usually left as soon as they returned and checked in with the assignment desk. Then, he would sit down and write a breakdown of his story for the morning show and work on the web script if needed.

To be honest, it was usually the most relaxing part of his day. Though covering political news always came with the added stress of making sure every detail was correct. Changing just one word could make the entire story wrong. 

His photographer sat down in an empty chair beside him. It belonged to Yuri Plisetsky, a dayside reporter who was notoriously difficult to work with—unless paired with Otabek Altin, a photographer who had the patience of a saint and was magically able to reign in the station’s punk.

Either way, the managers did everything to keep Plisetsky happy because there would be hell to pay if they didn’t. Everyone else put up with too because Plisetsky was a damn good reporter, even Yuuri thought so. 

“Yuri doesn’t like anyone sitting at his desk,” he off-handedly commented.

“He’s not going to know.”

“He’ll know,” Yuuri whispered. 

Viktor shrugged and didn’t move. “It’ll be fine.”

Well, at least he could say that he tried to save Viktor Nikiforov from an early death. Yuuri posted his web script before moving on to what he needed to do for the morning producers. 

“Isn’t there a web person who should take care of posting your story?” Viktor asked.

“Usually,” he answered. “I believe Guang-Hong is out sick today so the responsibility falls on me.”

“They don’t get someone to fill in?”

He shrugged. “The assignment desk can post breaking news articles when needed. It’s not ideal, but we make do.”

Yuuri resumed his concentration on writing his story. He could feel the ice blue eyes watching his fingers dance across the keyboard. He liked to work backwards, picking his sound and choosing his tag for the anchors before writing the main body of the story. 

If he knew how the story was going to end and what sound he was going to use, it was easier to write a script that would tailor to it. As with all political stories, the sound on tape he used was longer because both sides had to be represented.

“How long does it take you to write the VOSOTS for the morning show?” 

“Depends,” he answered. 

“On what?” Viktor asked.

“On how many times my photographer plans to interrupt me,” Yuuri teased. Viktor cracked a smile.

“I’m wounded. Who knew you could be so cruel.”

In total, 20 seconds was used to cover two opposing views and another ten for the tag. Working on the voice over script took less time and ended up being 25 seconds. 

He sighed and went over to the morning producers. “My story’s at the bottom of the 10 p.m. rundown. Look it over and let me know if I need to explain anything in the story.”

Yuuri went back over to his desk and sorted through his emails, sending off a couple of responses to potential stories to pitch at tomorrow’s meeting.

“You’re very efficient,” Viktor commented.

“So are you,” he said off-handedly. “Remember our first night working together?”

He flickered his eyes up toward Viktor.

Please say yes. 

Yuuri hadn’t realized how much he was counting on that simple word coming from Viktor’s mouth.

“I’ll never forget it.” 


That was not what he expected. Yuuri quickly put his shock aside to analyze those words for later.

“No one’s ever been able to keep up with me while in a breaking news type of situation. According to Phichit, I get into “the zone” and get frustrated whenever things aren’t being done on my schedule. I thought I’d traumatized you.”

Viktor smiled. “No, you didn’t traumatize me. You’re the first reporter I’ve worked with who knew what exactly what they wanted. We get some many new people that tell me “whatever you think is best,” but get mad when I don’t use a specific shot.”

“It’s a shame. You capture the emotions of people really well,” Yuuri commented.

Viktor’s eyes lit up at his words, heart-shaped smile spread wide across the other’s face. Yuuri felt his heart pound in his chest.

Why was this man so attractive?

“Thank you, Yuuri.” The words resonated in his body. They were sincere. 


His crush on Viktor was not going away any time soon.

“Your VOSOT looks good, Yuuri! Thanks!” the 4 a.m. producer, Sara, shouted.

Her voice startled him. Yuuri quickly looked in her direction before stammering out a “thanks.” 

He had gotten caught up in watching Viktor that he had forgotten where they were. Yuuri gathered his over-the-shoulder bag and pulled out the keys to his car. He grabbed his phone. 

“Where are you parked?” Viktor asked.

He pointed toward the back doors. “This way.” 

“Me too. I’ll walk with you.”

Viktor walked beside him, keeping pace as he walked to his car. Yuuri didn’t feel the need to say anything. Just having the other man near him was more than enough. 

He didn’t know if Viktor could possibly ever feel the same way about him.

But he hoped.




Viktor didn’t think twice about walking Yuuri out to his car, even though it was in the opposite direction of his.

He doesn’t have to know.

Yuuri came to a stop in front of a dark blue vehicle that Viktor looked for every time he drove through the parking lot to park on the backside of their building. Every time he saw the cute reporter’s car, he couldn’t help but feel a little lighter knowing that Yuuri was there.

“This is me,” the reporter whispered. 

“Oh,” he breathed. “Right.” 

Yuuri opened his trunk and put his bag inside before closing it shut again. 

Ask him out.

Yuuri headed toward the driver’s side and opened the door. Now or never.

“Yuuri!” he shouted. It echoed loudly in the quiet parking lot.

The reporter stopped and looked at him. Oh god, he was looking at Viktor.

“Um, can I…text you outside of work?”

What type of question is that?

To Yuuri’s credit, the other man didn’t laugh at his request. Instead, his eyes got wide and then he nodded. 

“Sure. I’d like that.”

Viktor Nikiforov watched as Yuuri got in his car and drove away, still frozen after hearing those words.

“Isn’t your car on the backside of the building with the station’s vehicles?” he heard from behind. Viktor jumped. 

“Ah, Chris…” He didn’t know quite what to say in response to that.

Chris gave him a knowing smirk. “You’re so in love, Viktor.”

I’m in love.




Yuri Plisetsky did in fact notice someone had sat at his desk. He went on a rampage and sent Viktor at least a thousand texts telling him off for sitting in his spot and ten thousand more with creative ways to kill him if it ever happened again.

Viktor made sure to sit on the other side of Yuuri from then on. At least Chris didn’t vow to maim and dismember him because he sat in a chair for an hour after work.




Yuuri felt awkward, clumsy, and stupid around Viktor Nikiforov. He definitely was not on the same level as that man who was unbelievably hot it wasn’t fair. Oh, he definitely imagined what it would be like to see Viktor naked. This spurred further on by the fact that his photographer hadn’t forgotten to text him.

And apparently was doing his best trying to seduce him.

At least that’s what Phichit deduced for him. Half of Viktor’s texts included or were simply a series of emojis he didn’t understand. So naturally, he went to the only person who could decipher the mysterious messages.

He wished he hadn’t.

Especially an hour before his shift with Viktor actually began. 

Explaining why he couldn’t look Viktor in the eye without blushing was a challenge. His photographer kept trying to take his temperature and even made a pit stop inside a drugstore to pick up medication to treat every type of common ailment known to man.

Viktor shoved the bags into his arms and told Yuuri to get better. 

There was nothing wrong with him.

He just couldn’t believe someone would be attracted to him in such a way.

Yuuri didn’t explain any of that though. He just took the medicine, blushing furiously still, and murmured “thanks.” Viktor wanted to drive him home, but he managed to convince his photographer that his mysterious ailment was not going to kill him.




Viktor thought Yuuri was dying, if he was being completely honest. He had never seen, let alone heard of, Yuuri taking a day off because of illness. Now, he was left wondering if sheer stubbornness and denial were the reasons why. 

He didn’t think anything was wrong at first. Sure, Yuuri didn’t want him to get too close, avoided eye contact, and had a tinge of redness to his face, but that wasn’t concerning right? It wasn’t until Yuuri intentionally put distance between them that he began to worry.

To test his theory, he tried to get close on more than one occasion. Each time, he was met with the same reaction, following by further reddening of the face. Viktor knew Yuuri was dying and probably just trying to muscle through his shift. When he voiced his concern out loud, the cute reporter denied being sick. 

So he did the only rational thing he could: buy every medication possible in both drowsy and non-drowsy and hoped one of them would help Yuuri’s condition. Honestly, he would’ve taken care of the sick reporter too, but the other insisted he was fine.

Viktor wasn’t convinced. 

He made sure to text Yuuri constantly and make sure the other was feeling better. When he saw the reporter the next day, everything was back to normal—much to his relief.




Their first kiss was a complete accident, as far-fetched as that sounds. However, Viktor would forever treasure the memory of the moments their lips touched because it’s what sparked a new trajectory for their relationship. 

Even though Chris and Yurio argued there wasn’t one to before this.

He respectfully disagreed, of course. Yuuri and Viktor had a relationship, it just hadn’t progressed beyond friendship. 

Then the kiss happened.

They were in the company truck after a long day of breaking news in some small town in the middle of nowhere. Both of them were exhausted and out of it. Instead of heading back to the station though, KYVN was generously putting them up in a hotel for the night. 

It would be an early day for them. They would get a couple of hours of sleep before setting up for the morning shows. The company paid for one hotel room. Which, due to a misunderstanding, only came with a King sized bed.

They came to the realization too late and nothing could be done about it because the hotel was at capacity. So after mulling in silence for several minutes, Yuuri tried to insist that Viktor get the bed. He argued the opposite, of course. 

Yuuri needed to be well rested to look gorgeous in front of the camera.

Viktor, apparently, needed to be well rested because carrying a camera and equipment took a toll on one’s body.

It did, but he wasn’t going to give Yuuri more fuel.

So they eventually agreed that one of them sleeping on the floor was out of the question. They settled for sleeping on opposite sides of the bed since it was “big enough.”

What they didn’t count on was the mattress sinking in when they both went to lie on it and them rolling to the center of the bed. At the end of the chaos, it took approximately three seconds for him to be aware of just how close Yuuri was and another two to realize that his lips were touching Yuuri’s.

Oh. His lips are really soft.

He didn’t make any move to pull away.

Neither did Yuuri.

I don’t want this to end.

They stayed like that for what felt like another minute, but it was probably less than five seconds before Yuuri’s eyes grew wide and he scrambled away.

Well, tried to.

The bed was impossible to get out of and Yuuri’s attempts caused him to burst out laughing.

They eventually settled in the sunken mattress, backs pressed together.

He was all too aware of Yuuri’s movements that night. Viktor didn’t get any sleep because the touch of the reporter’s lips stayed fresh on his mind.

I really love him.




“So when do I get to officially meet your boyfriend?” 

Yuuri chokes on air. “Boyfriend?”

“Yeah, boyfriend. You know, your photographer.”

He stares dumbly at Phichit, running through the word “boyfriend” in his mind. Viktor Nikiforov his boyfriend.

It sounded good. Too good. There was no way that Viktor would want to be his boyfriend though. 

“We’re not boyfriends.”

Phichit frowned. “You mean to tell me that after making eyes at each other for months and after you kissed—”

“It was an accident!”

“—that you’re still not officially boyfriends?”

Phichit looked horrified. Yuuri shrugged.

“We’re not there yet,” he answered. “Besides, I don’t even know if he likes me like that.” 

His best friend rolled his eyes. “You forget I’ve seen his texts to you. The guy is sexting you like crazy. Trust me, he likes you like that.”

He sighed. “Then why hasn’t he made a move?”

“Maybe he’s waiting for you to make the first move.”




Their second kiss was more intentional. 

Surprisingly, Viktor hadn’t been the one to initiate it at all.

Which made this kiss so memorable.

“Viktor, I told you to put on a jacket,” Yuuri scolded. It was the middle of winter. He had insisted it wasn’t “that cold” and didn’t need a coat. Except now he was slightly regretting this decision as it was most definitely cold outside and the warmth he felt had long since faded away. 

“I’m fine,” he said. Damn his teeth for clattering during the simple two-word sentence. 

Yuuri rolled his eyes and went back to the company vehicle. Viktor continued to set up lights for their shot, hoping the movement would keep him from freezing to death.

Once he was finished setting up, he turned around to find Yuuri holding a jacket for him. Not just any jacket though. This was Yuuri Katsuki’s personal coat.

The reporter had put on a company jacket over his clothing due to being an “on camera personality.” They were required to wear gear with the station’s logo whenever appropriate.

Viktor’s jaw dropped at the offer. “I couldn’t,” he insisted.

“Look, put it on. I’m not going to have you freeze to death before we’re done for the night.”

He felt compelled to put on the coat. The jacket lazily thrown on, offering just a little more protection than what he had before. Yuuri clicked his tongue and started buttoning him up.

“Are you trying to give yourself a cold?” Yuuri asked softly.

He didn’t answer, all too aware of what the other person was doing. It was something he’d dream about a long time ago. Someone to take care of him even when he didn’t want to. 

Please stay by my side.

Viktor wanted to say those words out loud. Ask Yuuri to be his boyfriend. Honestly, he had opened his mouth to say something. But then, his crush did something unexpected.

All the buttons perfectly in place. A warm scarf wrapped around his neck. Viktor recognized it as the one Yuuri wore all the time. It smelled like the other.

Yuuri gave him a quick peck on the lips. “There, all dressed.”

The reporter walked back in front of the camera as if nothing had happened.

As he had turned to take his spot, Yuuri’s eyes widened in realization of what he did.

“Oh my god!” he squeaked. Viktor was certain there would’ve been an apology too, but they had no time to discuss the events before they were live for the evening show. 

If anyone noticed Yuuri’s cheeks were a little redder than normal that night, they probably dismissed it as the cold temperatures. Only Viktor knew that the rosy tinge had absolutely nothing to do with the weather.

They were cleared five minutes later and began to tear down. Yuuri didn’t speak to him or make eye contact. When they got into the company truck, the reporter shifted uncomfortably in his seat. 

“We should probably talk about what happened,” he said quietly. Viktor hoped that he wasn’t going to scare Yuuri.

It didn’t work. Yuuri jumped. “I’m so sorry!”

Viktor frowned. “I’m not mad.”

Yuuri was in the middle of stammering a bunch of generic excuses. It took the reporter another five seconds to realize what he had said. “What?”

“I’m not mad about the kiss,” Viktor explained. “I’m really glad it happened, actually.”

“Oh,” Yuuri breathed softly. 

There was a moment of silence.

“Though, I am saddened that we’ve kissed twice and haven’t even been on a proper date yet. So, Yuuri Katsuki, will you go out with me?”




The entire conversation after the kissing debacle left Yuuri dazed. Viktor had asked him out on a date? He hadn’t expected that to happen. So of course he blushed furiously and stammered “yes.”

He didn’t fully process everything until the next day.

And was glad his past self had agreed to go out on a date with Viktor Nikiforov before his present self could talk him out of it.

Thus leading him to the crashing realization that he was going on date. With Viktor Nikiforov. His photographer. The sexiest man alive. Someone who, by far, outclassed him in terms of looks and personality.

Yet Friday after work, they were on a casual date. Together. In his apartment with a meal from whatever fast food place was open at 11:30 that night. They were watching a random TV show on Netflix. Rather, Viktor was watching. Yuuri was staring at the handsome man sitting next to him on the couch.

Yuuri smiled when Viktor insisted that waiting until Saturday would be too long to have a proper date. So they settled for this instead. After all, it was their weekend. He had long since finished eating and was shifted slightly so that he was leaning against the arm of the couch.

Viktor put the empty wrapper from his food in the bag on the floor between them before leaning against Yuuri. They shifted to get into a better position for long-term cuddling. A content sigh escaping from his handsome photographer’s lips.

How did I get so lucky?




Viktor was having an off day.

More than an off day, really. He couldn’t bring himself to get out of bed.

It was unfair really.

Just last night, he had the best date of his life. Today, he promised to take Yuuri out properly since they both would have time to rest and go out. Yet none of that sounded appealing to Viktor. Getting out of bed alone sounded impossible, never mind going somewhere. 

But he hadn’t expected the overpowering feeling to overwhelm him so suddenly. 

Every weekend, this heaviness would overcome him and prevent him from being productive. It varied in weight, but always came without fail.

The heaviness made the two days off feel entirely wasted and allowed his brain to guilt him throughout the week for not taking care of even the most basic things he needed to survive a work week. Like doing laundry. Or grocery shopping.

Viktor felt horrible. 

He knew what he had to do.

Sent: I can’t go out today. I don’t feel well.

He took in a deep breath and rolled over to his side, hoping that Yuuri would forgive him. Viktor really, really wanted to spend time with Yuuri. He just couldn’t imagine putting himself together. 

Received: Are you all right? Do you want me to bring you food? 

Food didn’t sound good, but he knew that he needed to eat. 

Yuuri can’t see you like this. He’ll think you’re weak and won’t want to date you anymore.

It probably wasn’t true, but he couldn’t bear the thought of finding out if it could be.

Viktor was very careful and hid his depression. No one knew.

The masks he wore around other people kept them from knowing the truth. He could power through each work week with no problems. The weekends were used for recharging.

He didn’t answer Yuuri. Responding would take too much effort. He closed his eyes and let sleep overtake him. If he rested, he couldn’t think.




When he woke up, it was to the sound of someone alternating between knocking and ringing his doorbell. He groaned and got out of bed. Viktor didn’t bother checking who it was, just opened the door wide enough so he could tell the person to cut it out. 

What he didn’t expect was for Yuuri to be there. Holding the six different bags of medication from the pharmacy he had stopped at several weeks ago and a brown paper bag. Viktor’s anger disappeared.

“I’m sorry!” Yuuri apologized. “I couldn’t let you stay alone knowing that you were sick. I begged Chris for your address. I just wanted to take care of you.”

Viktor let out a deep breath. “I’m not sick.”

Yuuri’s face scrunched up in confusion.



This wasn’t something he told others. “I’m fine. Just need some space to myself. That’s all.”

Yuuri nodded, the confusion still there, but he didn’t say anything. “Okay. Are you sure you don’t need any medication?” he asked.

Viktor shook his head. “I’m fine, I promise.”

Yuuri handed over the brown paper bag. “It’s soup. I didn’t know if you had anything to eat so I bought you enough for the weekend. And promise me you’ll call me if you need something?” 

He nodded. “Yeah.” 

Satisfied, Yuuri turned around. It was then Viktor noticed that Yuuri was also carrying a gym bag.

“Yuuri,” he called. The reporter turned around.


“Were…you planning to stay the night?” 

This caused the reporter to blush furiously. “I planned to stay all weekend depending on how sick you were. It was stupid of me to assume.”

Viktor smiled, genuinely touched by the fact Yuuri wanted to be around him, take care of him.

The thought of just being taken care of Yuuri, just for a while, was incredibly pleasing.

“Yuuri,” he said. “Will you…stay with me? Just for a little bit?” 

The reporter’s face lit up at his request. “Of course, Viktor. Just tell me what you want me to do.” 

They walked inside, Yuuri dumping the ridiculous amount of medication in the foyer and taking off his shoes. Viktor put the soup in the fridge.

“Follow me,” Viktor said. He led Yuuri to the bedroom. With what he had in mind, the couch wouldn’t be a good option for the two of them long-term. He had very specific plans for their time together.

To Yuuri’s credit, the reporter didn’t blush that much upon being led to his room. Once the initial shock was over with, confusion settled onto the other’s face. Viktor really wanted to know what Yuuri was thinking—especially since he would periodically turn red.

“I just want you to cuddle me,” Viktor said quietly. “Just hold me while I sleep.”

“Okay,” Yuuri breathed—looking slightly more relaxed at the expectations.

Viktor climbed into bed and Yuuri followed. He turned into the other’s chest, feeling just how fast the reporter’s heart was beating.

Yuuri wrapped his arms around Viktor and took in several deep breaths before relaxing. There were gentle kisses pressed into his forehead and promises that Yuuri would be there when Viktor woke up.

Hopefully for all the times I wake up from now on.




He didn’t fully understand what was happening with Viktor until later. Yuuri didn’t press for answers after being told the other wasn’t physically sick because they weren’t official by any means. They had shared exactly two kisses and one very, very casual date.

Yet, they were pressed against each other in one bed. Sleep didn’t seem like it had come easy for Viktor the night before. Truth be told, he hadn’t slept well either. Once he heard his photographer’s breathing even out, Yuuri allowed himself to doze off as well. 

When he woke up, Viktor had turned so his back was facing his front. Yuuri pressed gentle kisses against the other’s neck. He knew the other wasn’t asleep anymore.

“Viktor,” he whispered.

“Hmm,” the other answered. 

“Do you want some soup now?” 

There was no response. Yuuri made a decision. “I’ll go make us some soup. You stay here, okay?”

He went to the kitchen and heated up enough soup for both of them and brought it back to the bedroom. Viktor hadn’t moved. He set a bowl down on the nightstand before turning on the lamp so they wouldn’t eat in the dark.

Viktor groaned. 

“I know,” Yuuri said. “You have to eat though.”

The other turned over and took the bowl he was offering. Yuuri smiled and grabbed the second bowl.

He didn’t push for conversation, just focusing on eating and watching to make sure Viktor took a couple of bites as well. The photographer took ten minutes just to lift the spoon and eat a little. 

“Oh,” Viktor muttered. “This is good.” 

Yuuri smiled when Viktor took another bite. Soon, the entire bowl was gone. He took the dishes out of the room and washed them before heading back.

He noticed Viktor staring intently at the bathroom attached to the bedroom. “Do you want to take a shower?” Yuuri asked.

Viktor sighed heavily.

“How about I find a change of clothes for you and we can think about the shower?”

He rummaged through the drawers to find clean underwear and different pajamas to wear. Yuuri put them in the bathroom and found a towel. 

Viktor had flopped over on the bed. “Do you want to shower?” 

Yuuri didn’t get a response. So he climbed into bed and cuddled Viktor, hoping that this would help in some way. Thirty minutes passed.

“Will you…help me shower?” Viktor asked quietly.

“Yes. Do you want to try now?” 

“Yeah, before my motivation’s gone.”

Yuuri untangled himself from Viktor and offered a hand to his…well, he didn’t know what they were at this point. He certainly wouldn’t do this for a coworker. But calling Viktor his boyfriend seemed a bit too presumptuous.

You can have this conversation later. 

Viktor followed him into the bathroom and sighed before taking off his clothes. Yuuri turned on the water and the other got inside.

“What do you want me to do, Viktor?” he asked.

“Just go back to the bedroom. I’ll be fine.”

So Yuuri left and waited for Viktor to finish his shower. The other emerged about 20 minutes later, looking a little better.

“Do you want to cuddle some more?” he asked.

Viktor got into bed without another word. Yuuri turned out the light next to them and snuggled into the other’s warmth.




On Monday, Viktor told him about his depression and how he needed the weekends to recharge. Some days were worse than others, but he was always fine after two days of rest. Yuuri thanked him for opening up and said he would help out in any way he could.

 “You’re the only one who’s seen me like that. I really, really appreciate your help, Yuuri. It made me feel infinitely better just knowing you were there. I appreciated that you didn’t push me.”

“I felt like I pushed you too much,” Yuuri confessed. “I’ve never done anything like that for anyone. I hope that in future, I can do a better job to help you.”

Viktor took a deep breath. “You did fine. It’s really hard for me to know what I need sometimes, but bringing me food and making me shower were good things. I feel worse when I can’t take care of such basic things.” 

“I’m glad I could help,” Yuuri whispered.

There was a lull in the conversation.

“What are we now?” he asked before he could stop himself. Yuuri panicked. Shit, that was not what he wanted to say!

Viktor contemplated for a while. “I would love it if we could officially call ourselves boyfriends. I know we’re doing everything in a weird way. I…really like you.” 

“Boyfriends,” he repeated. The word stuck in his brain, making his heart beat wildly, and felt so right. “I really like you too, Viktor. Will you officially be my boyfriend?” 

The way Viktor’s face lit up told him everything.




Their relationship was the newsroom gossip for weeks. The only reason they were knocked from their spot was because some people (Phichit and Chris) had caught the Yuri and Otabek making out in a company vehicle after their shift one day. Those said people discussed in around the wrong people (ran into the newsroom and announced it to everyone).

And that’s how Yuri and Otabek officially came out, not only as gay but also as a couple.

Yuuri was relieved, but Viktor was upset they were no longer interesting enough for their coworkers to constantly discuss.

“But Yuuri,” Viktor whined. “We’re an amazing couple.” 

He rolled his eyes. “I know. I just don’t care if the rest of the newsroom knows that or not. I’d rather our relationship stay between us.”

“I just want the world to know how amazing you are for me.”

“I’m fairly certain everyone knows already.”

“Not the world. You never post pictures of us on social media.”

“Because all my social media is for company use.” 

Viktor gasped. “Wait, you mean you don’t have any personal accounts?” 

Yuuri shook his head.

Viktor blushed. “I have a different Yuuri Katsuki to unfriend.”

“Viktor, what did you say to them?”

“Nothing you need to worry about.”




Viktor rushed over to Yuuri’s place. He made sure to grab five bags full of the untouched medications before bolting up the stairs and knocking frantically on his boyfriend’s door. He missed the sixth one in his haste.

When he texted Yuuri earlier, asking if the other wanted to go out on a date, the response had been “Can’t, sick.” 

So of course, he dropped everything and went over to his beloved’s place. Medicine in hand and burst through the door thanks to a spare key he had recently acquired.

Phichit didn’t even question his intrusion. “Ah Viktor, how are you?” the man asked cheerily. Too cheerily.

“Where’s Yuuri? He said he was sick.”

Phichit started laughing. Viktor frowned. Now was not the time for the other to laugh. His boyfriend could be dying.

Then, he heard the sounds of vomiting from the restroom. He bounded toward the noise, five bags still in hand.

“Yuuri, I’m here! What are your symptoms, I’m sure we’ve got something in here to cure whatever your problem is.”

“Viktor, too loud.”

He took in his boyfriend’s appearance. Sure, he was slumped over a toilet and looked absolutely awful, but this wasn’t the usual sickness.

“You’re hung over,” he concluded.

“You can thank Phichit for that.”

“Admit it, Yuuri. You had fun last night,” Phichit interrupted. He was carrying a cup of tea. “Now, do you have any ibuprofen in those bags, Nikiforov?”

Viktor set to work to try and dig through the medication. Of course ibuprofen was the one thing not in the bags he managed to bring. 


“Fine. I’ll go dig it out of my photographer kit.” 

Phichit left the two alone. Yuuri sipped the tea lightly, wincing. 

“So you went out drinking last night?”

“I didn’t know what I was getting into.”

“What did you think you were getting into?” Viktor asked softly, running his fingers through his boyfriend’s hair. 

“…I thought I was just going to a dance club with Phichit and Chris.”

As soon as Chris was mentioned, Viktor had a picture of exactly what happened. “Oh Yuuri. Never go to a dance club with Chris.”

“I know that now.” 

“If you do decide you want to make poor decisions though, invite me. I’d love to see how you move on the dance floor.”

“Never again,” Yuuri said weakly.




It was another lazy weekend for them. Viktor hadn’t felt like doing anything and Yuuri was all too happy to take care of him. He always felt loved and secure whenever his boyfriend was there. Which, thankfully, the days were slowly increasing. So far, they were on day twelve of Yuuri being in his place.

They were cuddled in bed. His depression wasn’t as bad, but still there.

“Hey Viktor,” Yuuri muttered.

“Hmm?” he asked sleepily.

“What if I stayed here every night?”

He hummed, thinking about how great it would be to constantly wake up in Yuuri’s arms. “But nothing of yours is here. You’d have to go back and forth. It wouldn’t make sense.” 

Yuuri chuckled. “What if all my stuff was here?”


“Are you asking to move in with me?” Viktor asked.

“Yeah. My lease is up in a couple of months and I was thinking it didn’t make any sense for me to have my own place if we’re going to be together all the time.”

“Can you move in next weekend?” 

Yuuri laughed. “My lease isn’t up for a couple of months.”

“I don’t care. I want you here all the time now.”

He tightened his grip on Yuuri to emphasize his point. “Okay, okay. We’ll start packing up my place and getting me moved over next weekend.”

Viktor met Yuuri’s eyes. “Really?”





Viktor was elated. Not just because Yuuri was moving in with him. Officially moving in with him. But they had finally become the topic of newsroom gossip again—courtesy of Phichit and Chris.

However, none of it compared to the final box of Yuuri’s things being loaded into his apartment. 

“Welcome home, Yuuri.” He kissed his boyfriend’s forehead and smiled.

“I’m home, Viktor.”