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The victuuri fandom adore Phichit. Here are just some of the reasons why...

 


 

The camera comes on shaky and unfocused, like someone’s just grabbed it and turned it on in a hurry. It steadies to show a shot of Victor and Yuuri’s kitchen. The happy couple are cooking together, soft looks on their faces as they slice ingredients side by side, reach over each other, around each other, perfectly in sync as they work. It’s like watching a dance, effortlessly graceful.

 

It’s really cute seeing how Victor watches Yuuri with such fondness as Yuuri does something he’s good at, something Yuuri’s actually proud of himself for. And the way Yuuri lifts a spoonful out of the sizzling pot, cupping his hand carefully under it as he brings it to Victor’s lips to taste.

 

“Careful it’s hot,” Yuuri says quietly, gentle, like this moment is important to him and he doesn’t want to break the spell.

 

Victor keeps his eyes on Yuuri, Yuuri’s own flicking up from the spoon to meet his, only to blush at the intensity of Victor’s gaze. But he doesn’t look away. Victor chooses this moment to blow lightly on the contents of the spoon, his eyes never leaving Yuuri’s. Then, still not looking away, he leans forward and sips at the spoon. Yuuri swallows. Victor leans back.

 

“Vkusno, muffin,” Victor purrs, and it’s so sensual, so intimate, that Yuuri goes even pinker and Phichit’s hiss of “oh my god” can be heard from behind the camera.

 

Phichit also manages to catch Victor hemming Yuuri in against the counter. Yuuri’s just turned from where he was slicing fresh coriander to garnish, only to find his way impeded by his husband, who places his hands either side of Yuuri’s hips on the counter and leans in a little.

 

Yuuri goes bright red, and it’s obvious he’s still flustered by Victor’s flirting even though they’ve been married for over a year.

 

“You look good enough to eat, baby boy,” Victor murmurs, voice a low rumble that Phichit has to enhance a little to be clear on the video when he uploads it.

 

Yuuri’s still very pink, but he cuts his eyes to the side, still oblivious to Phichit filming just out of sight. Then he bites his lip, and though Victor’s got his back to the camera, his hands are visible, as is they way they clench slightly on the countertop. Yuuri looks back at him, his eyes full of heat now. He tilts his hips forward so his body’s curved towards Victor’s.

 

“Maybe I’ll give you a taste it you’re good,” he says, and Victor groans, his head collapsing forward so it rests on Yuuri’s shoulder, thoroughly outmaneuvered.

 

“Fuck, muffin. I can’t cook at the best of times, nevermind with a hard on.”

 

Yuuri laughs, delighted, and pats him on the back.

 

The viewers are freaking out in the comments. One commenter states that they’re giving this video to the police as evidence for Phichit having murdered them.

 


 

It’s obvious from Phichit’s videos that Victor and Yuuri dance together a lot. There’s the routines they plan to film, but Phichit also grabs the camera whenever he’s visiting and one of them just sweeps the other into their arms apropos to nothing.

 

There’s clips of them at all sorts of parties. Skating banquets, Christmas drinks at Mila’s, the album party to some best selling artist or other who Yuuri did the choreography for.

 

But the sweetest moments are when Victor and Yuuri are just in their apartment, dinner finished and the washing up drying on the rack. Phichit knows they think they’re alone, him having dozed off on the couch, full of food and wine.

 

But he’s actually awake enough that he hears Victor ask, “shall we, muffin?” and knows that’s his cue to start filming.

 

The camera catches the moment when Yuuri, having just dried his hands, turns away from the sink and accepts Victor’s hand. Victor draws him in, and they sway together, no music needed, so radiantly happy that it’s like they stole a piece of the moon and let it glow in their kitchen.

 

“You were stunning today,” Victor murmurs in Yuuri’s ear.

 

“All I did was sightsee with Phichit and you.”

 

“Exactly. All rosy cheeked and full of wonder for beautiful things, bundled up in your scarf. When your eyes are bright like that you look like some creature of the hedgerow, one foot in the fey world and the other edging into ours.”

 

“Psh, shut up.”

 

But though Yuuri rolls his eyes where he’s resting his head against Victor’s chest, he’s smiling bright enough that it’s clear he’s absolutely thrilled by how ridiculous his husband is.

 

Then —

 

“I love you.”

 

“I love you too, muffin.”

 

“So much.”

 

“To the moon, solnyshko.”

 


 

Phichit, being always camera ready, happens to catch a few racier victuuri moments as well. So he makes a compilation, strictly warned on being a little steamy and not for young eyes.

 

He catches Yuuri pressed up against the lockers at the rink, his head tilted back to expose the long column of his throat, which Victor is peppering sucking kisses up, one hand shoved up Yuuri’s top, the other gripping Yuuri’s hip. Yuuri opens his eyes on a breathy moan and catches sight of Phichit filming, squawks, throws Victor off, goes to chase Phichit, only to trip over the bench in the middle of the locker room and go flying. All this is caught by the camera as Phichit was running backwards, still filming.

 

He pays for his efforts by getting half strangled by Victor for causing Yuuri harm yet again.

 

Phichit also walks in on Victor fully clothed but on his knees in their lounge while Phichit was supposed to be on a run.

 

Phichit’s already filming before he very quietly opens the door with the key he snagged for himself, because his fuckery senses are tingling and he knows some bullshit is afoot. Which is how he catches Yuuri looming over Victor, his hand placed delicately on Victor’s slim throat as Victor’s eyes flutter shut.

 

“Good boy,” Yuuri murmurs, voice syruppy and so sexy that even Phichit’s knees go a little weak despite Yuuri being his strictly platonic soulmate.

 

It’s Phichit's soft curse of “fuck” that has the couple looking up and catching him filming. They give chase, but Phichit manages a spectacular escape by shimmying down the broken fire escape and dropping a whole storey onto the pavement when the ladder gets jammed.

 

“I just had my Friends moment!” Phichit crows, delighted with himself as he flees the scene.

 


 

Bean gets carried like a baby most of the time, so it’s a good thing she only grows to Vicchan’s size, rather than to Makkachin’s and still expecting to be carried everywhere. To be fair, Victor carries Makkachin a fair few places despite her size.

 

Phichit catches this ridiculousness as Victor has Bean swaddled in an honest to god baby blanket, because “it’s cold, Yuuri! She’s a baby!”

 

Phichit knows that the pair of them get soft expressions when they look at children, and has no doubt they’ll have their own little gremlins someday, but they seem happy with their fur babies for now.

 


 

Speaking of children, there are some very cute victuuri children moments. Victor’s fantastic with children. Children. Not babies. Yuuri has training from the triplets, who he caught a train from Tokyo to visit back when they were born. But Victor’s clueless. One of Yuuri’s dance friends has her second child, and brings them to the studio at the same time as Victor and Phichit are visiting. Victor chats happily with the little girl — Anna — in the video, asking her about what she’s reading and who her favourite teacher is. But then Anna wants Yuuri’s attention, who’s holding her little sister. The little sister is only three months old, all chubby cheeked baby goodness.

 

“Aeroplane!” the four year old Anna demands, hanging off Yuuri’s leg, which is clad in dance leggings below his oversized t-shirt.

 

“Sure!” Yuuri says happily, and plops baby Natasha into Victor’s surprised hands, her mother having wandered away to chat with her dance class mates. “Hold her, Vitya.”

 

Then Yuuri promptly fucks off with Anna, leaving Victor staring at Natasha, holding her out at arms length, clearly having no idea what to do with her. The panic is very clear in his eyes.

 

“Err…”

 

Natasha just stares at Victor with her big blue eyes, blowing a spit bubble as she hangs limp like a cat.

 

“You hold her like a bouquet of flowers after you’ve just won gold, Victor,” Phichit says happily, filming Victor’s utter confusion and slight panic.

 

“Oh… um…”

 

Victor reposistions Natasha so she’s tucked into the crook of his arm.

 

“Support the head!” Phichit reminds him, and Victor’s touch is so gentle on the back of her head, his hand delicate but looking massive next to her, that Phichit has to clutch a hand to his chest. “Oh, viewers, we’re seeing that real Papa Katsuki-Nikiforov content. This is how he’ll look with their baby. Terrified but like he would take down a bear to protect them.”

 

Victor throws a scowl at the camera, but there’s a smile tucked in there too. And then he’s too busy gazing down at the tiny chubby bundle in his arms. Natasha grabs his finger and holds on, gazing up at him with intent concentration. Victor smile goes a bit wobbly with emotion.

 

Yuuri comes back then, and he looks at Victor holding the baby with such an impossibly fond look on his face, as though he’s just fallen in love with Victor all over again, that Phichit has to clutch his heart again.

 

“Viewers, send help,” Phichit whimpers. “Your boy’s been slain.”

 

“Shut up, Phich.”

 

“I’m too pretty to die.”

 


 

Phichit also captures plenty of very good chumetti content. The fandom is new and not as well established as the victuuri one, but Chris and Phichit are so utterly shameless that it makes for hilarious viewing and everyone loves them.

 

It’s as Phichit’s filming for this fandom that he accidentally gets one of the best victuuri moments. Sassy Yuuri. And not just sassy Yuuri, but sassy jealous Yuuri.

 

They’re at a party for some skating thing — Phichit wasn’t entirely paying attention when Chris invited him, but he can’t be blamed as Chris had his hand down Phichit’s pants at the time — so everybody should know that Victor’s taken. Everybody in the skating world knows about Victor’s husband, it’s very hard not to when Victor will tell anyone who stays still long enough how gorgeous and brilliant and talented Yuuri is. This works in theory. In practice… well it’s not foolproof.

 

And the fool takes the form of a pretty brunette by the name of Jessica. The skaters, sponsors and other various sporting figures in attendance have been allowed to bring dates, which is why Yuuri and Phichit are there, but those who don’t have a date have bought friends. A woman whose name escapes Phichit beyond her being an ice dancer has brought a friend. That friend is Jessica, as she tells Victor when she approaches him. She’s legs and tits on a stick. Jessica’s admittedly gorgeous and Phichit doesn’t blame her for catching sight of Victor and thinking she has to try and get in this gorgeous man’s pants. Other than the fact that Victor is so obviously gay that sometimes he seems to surprise even himself.

 

Victor’s in a new suit, one tailored so fine that even Chris couldn’t think of an inappropriate comment straight away. That was until Yuuri walked out in an equally fine suit and Chris’ face split into an evil grin. The following comment had Phichit cackling and Yuuri going so red that Victor seemed worried he was going to self-combust.

 

But back at the skating event, Jessica has sauntered up to where Phichit, Chris, and Mila are standing with Victor, and introduced herself. Phichit had started filming to show how cute he and Chris look in their complementary suits, but he turns the camera on Victor when he sees what’s going on.

 

The venue is gorgeous. On the top floor of a skyscraper in New York, it’s all glass and marble and chrome, low lights which spill into different colours in different areas and amazing views of the city at night. But the main attraction is whatever’s about to happen between Victor and this unwitting woman.

 

“Hello,” Victor says warmly to Jessica, clearly wanting to make people who don’t know anyone feel welcome and not catching the way Jessica is looking at him. “Are you having a good time?”

 

“Oh my night just got a lot better,” Jessica says, dragging her eyes up and down Victor’s body with a smirk.

 

Victor looks adorably confused. Usually he’s very icy towards people that flirt with him, but he’s drunk quite a bit of champagne and maybe it’s the fact that Jessica’s a woman that throws him off. He doesn’t even seem to realise what’s going on.

 

“Yeah?” Victor asks, nonplussed. “What happened?”

 

Jessica laughs, clearly thinking Victor is joking, and leans forward to place a hand on his arm and conveniently showing off her ample cleavage in her low cut dress. This may have worked on Yuuri when he was single and had had a few drinks, as Yuuri is bi, but even if Victor wasn’t taken he has no interest in women.

 

Victor smiles in a confused sort of way at Jessica, maybe thinking that she’s tipsy. It is getting late after all, and everyone’s had a fair bit to drink.

 

“Oh wow,” Jessica says, squeezing the arm she’s holding. “You must work out. What kind of skater are you?”

 

Phichit snorts from where he’s subtly filming, and Mila — who’s standing on Jessica’s other side — turns wide, disbelieving eyes to the camera at how outrageously obvious Jessica’s being.

 

“Oh I used to be a figure skater, but now I just do the occasional show,” Victor explains, apparently still oblivious to the flirtation. “I mainly choreograph now.”

 

“That’s so interesting,” Jessica says, beaming at him.

 

“Thank you,” Victor says, beaming back at her. “But you know who’s even more interesting than me? My —”

 

“Do you want to dance?”

 

Phichit is sure Victor was about to tell the poor woman about Yuuri, therefore putting an end to this whole mess, but Jessica seems to have decided to go in for the kill.

 

“Oh, um,” Victor says, looking suddenly awkward and like he’s finally realised what’s going on. “I don’t know if I —”

 

“Oh come on,” Jessica purrs, leaning close again, her boobs now brushing his arm in a way that makes Victor’s eyes go wide as he leans back slightly, horrified. “I could show you some really good moves.”

 

“I —”

 

“Vitya!”

 

The expression of pure relief and joy that breaks over Victor’s face at the sound of Yuuri’s voice is very sweet. The Japanese dancer strides up to his husband, his tie loose around his neck and his jacket missing. Yuuri looks flushed and rumpled, like he’s done nothing but drink and dance all night. Which, to be fair, is pretty much all he has done. Phichit knows Victor left Yuuri in the care of Yuri Plisetsky, but that seems to have been a mistake because now he’s even more drunk than before.

 

Yuuri shoves himself between Victor and Jessica, grabbing Victor’s hand and starting to drag him back towards the dance floor, apparently not even registering Jessica’s presence.

 

“Hey!”

 

Phichit winces. Yuuri pauses to give Jessica a cold look. Phichit realises he must have noticed her after all but chose to ignore her until now.

 

“We were about to dance, if you don’t mind,” Jessica says snottily, glaring at Yuuri as though he’s just Victor’s drunk friend being an idiot.

 

Yuuri has always had the talent of making himself appear less drunk than he is when needed. It got Phichit and him out of a fair few tangles back at college. Law enforcement is so much more agreeable for a cute sober boy than a drunk one. Which is why Yuuri looks perfectly composed as he drags his eyes up and down Jessica’s form, one eyebrow raised to devastating effect and a slight sneer on his lips. Then he talks.

 

“The day some upstart little bitch in a slutty, off the rack dress dances with my husband is the day I look bad in heels,” Yuuri says, making Victor’s eyes go wide and Phichit splutter. “So never then. Excuse us.”

 

Yuuri says the last to Phichit, Chris and Mila, who all nod mutely, but Yuuri’s already sweeping his pink cheeked, delighted husband away. The dance that follows is hardly appropriate for public, but it certainly gets the message across.

 

Jessica stands frozen for a moment, her mouth slightly open as she stares, before she turns and walks away. Mila is in silent fits of laughter, having to sink down into a nearby chair as she clutches her stomach. Phichit himself is struggling to hold the camera straight as he films the couple dancing, but Chris just raises his champagne glass to toast them.

 

“God, that man is perfect for Victor,” the Swiss says happily, looking fond as he watches his best friend get twirled around by his husband, a look of pure joy on Victor’s face.

 

“Oh yes,” Mila agrees through her hiccuping laughter. “Victor did always love a firm hand.”

 

“Or a foot,” Chris agrees, making Mila break into fresh peels.

 

Yuuri is horrified when he sees the video in the morning, having no recollection of the night’s events beyond a fuzzy memory of Victor helping him out of his suit in their hotel room before he collapsed into bed.

 

“I was such a bitch,” he whispers, mortified.

 

“She was the bitch, muffin,” Victor says, snuggling up to him beneath the thick hotel duvet. “You were magnificent.”

 

Yuuri still doesn’t seem convinced, so Victor spends the next hour making sure Yuuri has absolutely no reason to doubt himself. Their neighbours make a noise complaint. Yuuri flushes as he apologies to the receptionist on the other end of the phone. Only to gasp as Victor goes back to work and therefore ruining the entire apology.

 

The comments on the video from the night before all thank both Phichit and Jesus for the gift that is sassy drunk Yuuri.