Blood rushed through his veins, as the wind through his hair and robes. He could hear the teams on the field fight for the quaffle, but paid them no mind as he raced after the snitch. Beside him, his rival flew, adorned in the red and gold robes of his house. They were neck and neck, mere seconds from victory or defeat, at equal odds. They both had an arm outstretched, ready to bring their team to the top, so close they could taste victory. At the very last second, Yuri could feel the flutter of the sparkling gold wings and he gave everything he could to grab the elusive snitch.
Cheers erupted around him, deafening in sheer volume, but the blonde’s hand was heavy with nothing. He slumped in defeat and flew to the ground in defeat, meeting his somber team.
The thing about Yuri Plisetsky was, when he was beaten by something, he gained the incredible drive to come back and completely demolish what had defeated him. Once, when he was a small child, he came in second in a spelling bee, a muggle tradition his parents kept with them, and he became so focused on winning that simple thing that he became incredible advanced in all things literature. By the time he was ten he was reading Dickens, and Hemingway, while kids his age read stories like the Boxcar Children or something like that. This, while helping him become very intelligent and advance quickly in life, it alienated him from other people, being too mature for the people his age, and too young to be taken seriously by anyone older than him.
But, I digress, back to why this is relevant. You see, this was his first loss for his team as seeker. He had only become the team’s seeker, and not the reserve, that year, after their last seeker, and captain, graduated. So, after wallowing for a day, his resolve to demolish his opponent grew, especially in regards to that arrogant, narcissistic, unbearable …
With a deep breath, Yuri stepped off the train, preparing himself for his summer break.
The crowded station, while not being the most pleasant, was a familiar sight. The sun bore down on Yuri, no cloud to temper its rage, and his hair was sticking to his neck. In retaliation, he pulled out a rubber band and quickly tied it into a messy braid, vowing to neaten it later.
His grandfather had already said his farewells, so the blonde made his way onto the train, hoping to find an empty compartment whilst most everyone else was giving tearful goodbyes to their loved ones. He found what he was searching for rather easily, pulling his trunk with him and heaving it up onto the storage space, along with his cat’s box.
The door slid open, and, apparently he looked like he was struggling, even though he was not , because a smooth voice with a flirty tone drifted in, filling the sixth year with pure rage.
“Hey, sweetheart, you need some help there?”
Jean-Jacques Leroy. Or, as his idiotically adoring fans called him, JJ. He was the bane of Yuri’s very existence. The blonde’s grip on the handles of his trunk tightened as he tensed in fury, but the pridurok probably thought he was having trouble lifting it, so he closed in on Yuri and placed his hands on top of the others’ to “stabilize” it.
At this, the younger of the two’s control snapped. He pushed his trunk to safety, spun around and landed a well aimed blow to the other’s cheek, hearing a sickening crack.
“Don’t touch me,” he growled, glaring death onto the other.
For a moment, satisfaction ran through him, in part at the shocked expression on the usually confident face, and also due to the fact that he finally acted on his anger towards the seventh year. But that moment soon passed as he realized the scolding he would be receiving.
A loud altercation rang through the halls, one voice big and frustrated, the other laid back but equally as irked. The topic was irrelevant, whether it was the best professional quidditch team, and what ingredients to use in a potion, they always had something to say, and, by saying, argue.
The people around them sighed, rolling their eyes, and continuing to wherever it is they were going. In only a month, their constant bickering had become second nature, and their attendance tied, spending more time with each other than anyone else. Unfortunately, the self-proclaimed “arch nemeses” were so wrapped up in each other that they somewhat neglected everyone else, which was noted, but when brought up to either party, neither made much of an attempt to fix the err in their ways.
The thing about people who “hate” each other and argue a lot is, they end up knowing a lot about that person. This is because, in finding what the other person dislikes and hates, they also find the opposite. It’s no surprise how well they knew each other after a couple months.
“I wonder how long it’ll take,” the charms professor mused, resting his chin in his palm. His lover looked to him curiously.
“How long will what take, Yuuri?” Victor question.
“How long will it take for them to realize their feelings for each other?” He replied, gazing at the two he was referring to as they bickered vehemently. He expected the silverette to be surprised at the notion, but it seemed that even he noticed their feelings for each other. “They must be hopeless if you’ve noticed it.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” He cried.
“Do you know how long it took for you to realize I was in love with you?” Yuuri blank-faced.
“Shut up! I’m just terrible at differentiating between if someone likes me or if they’re just a fan,” he pouted. The raven-haired smiled softly and pecked his lips, making his husband blanch as he turned back to his soup.
On the other side of the Great Hall, Yuri sat, staring at the two in disgust.
“What crawled up your ass and died?” One of his only friends, Mila, teased, poking his cheek. The blonde hissed and swatted her hand away. “Easy kitty.”
“Don’t call me kitty,” he spat. “And nothing, other than the usual shit.”
“Ah,” she hummed, wiseness in her tone. “Still pining after him, huh?”
“What the fuck are you on? I was never pining after him, plus he’s an old man,” he gagged, pulling his robes closer and shivering.
“What? Yuratchka, he’s the same age as I am,” the redhead argued.
“I didn’t realize you were thirty, Mila,” he sassed.
“Are you talking about Victor?”
“Yeah, are you not?”
“Why the fuck would I be talking about victor, he’s twice your age and married .”
“My point exactly!”
“Do you seriously not know who I’m talking about, though?”
“No, I really don’t.”
“Gryffindor, kind of a dick, you spend almost all your time with him, ring any bells?”
Yuri was not amused.
Yuri was unsure what they were arguing about anymore, but he did know that the other was wrong about whatever it was. He also knew that he was being distracted by his conversation with Mila the night before, and what exactly it all meant.
So lost in thought, he didn’t notice that the other had stopped talking and was staring at him.
“What?” He snapped, flushing under the intense gaze. He turned and saw the empty corridor around them, and, when he looked back, the Canadian was very close. They stared for a moment, lost in each other’s stare
Yuri wasn’t sure who initiated it, but moments later he found himself hoisted up and slammed against the nearest wall, with Jean-Jacques Leroy kissing him fiercely. Hands gripped roughly at his hips and his waist and the blonde mewled into the other’s eager mouth. Their hips ground together roughly, seeking friction and pleasure.
A hand grabbed at his ass and Yuri yelped slightly, eyes snapping open in shock, soon closing again. The older of the two began pressing feverish nips down the other’s jaw and neck, making sure to mark it up. He sucked and bit and licked behind the other’s ear and took the earlobe between his teeth, making Yuri let out a quiet gasp.
But, before anything more could happen, a voice broke through the haze.
“So, you two finally got your act together. Great.”
Yuri was going to murder his charms professor.
Yuri stood at the entrance to the locker room, gathering up courage. This was their first official match against Gryffindor since he and Jean had… But that was besides the point. He still was waiting outside his own locker room, nervous out of his mind for the match. Finally, he gathered enough courage and opened the door.
Mila teased him mercilessly as he walked in, and until they all walked out onto the field. But the blonde didn't mind her, focusing only on the match. He noticed how grey the clouds were, and hoped that it wouldn't affect the game.
Almost an hour later, after both teams had scored quite a few times, and the rain had began pelting down on everyone, a flicker of gold caught the Slytherin’s eye. Moments later, both he and the Gryffindor seeker were chasing after the snitch with great speed.
As victory was in his grasp, the worst happened. His grip on his broom was already slippery, and as he leaned forward, his hand lost hold, and he fell forward. The broomstick was wet and he slid straight off, plummeting quickly to the ground far below.
He heard screams as the world began to go black.
A groan sounded through the hospital wing as Yuri slowly came to. He looked at his surroundings. From the windows he could tell it was night, and it looked as though Madam Pomphrey was out, too. The last thing he noticed was the head of black hair resting on a pair of arms which lead to Jean-Jacques Leroy.
The seventh year looked terrible, disheveled and like it’d been awhile since he'd last slept, or showered. Speaking of which, it felt like he himself hadn't showered for a while. How long was he out. He shifted to get up, but stopped as the sleeping teen next to him stirred. He blearily blinked up at him. A moment later he shot up and launched himself at the other, crushing him in his embrace.
The blonde startled at the sudden contact, but slowly relaxed into it, only to pull away again as he felt something damp on his shoulder.
“Are you… crying?” He asked, bewildered. The Gryffindor glared at him with glassy eyes.
“Fuck you, of course I am,” he replied, wiping at his eyes.
“How long have I been in here for that response?”
“A month, you haven't even moved since you got here. Not a twitch. All of us were seriously worried!” He raged. Yuri was taken aback at the tone, and quickly tried to calm the other by awkwardly patting his back. Finally, the weeping youth calmed down, chuckling quietly.
“You’re terrible at comforting,” he mused softly, gently stroking Yuri’s cheek with his thumb, leaving him at a bit of a loss. Why was he acting so gentle, it was extremely out of character, along with the sappy grin on his face.
“What’s up with you?” He questioned, pulling away.
“Nothing, just… just missed you, I guess,” he replied. “I, um, I’ve had a lot of time to think about stuff, and, uh, I kind of realized a lot of important things.” Yuri shifted a little, facing the other head on. “First thing is, um, well, I care about you… a lot. And, um, I also realized that… I’m in love with you.” The last bit came out staggered, but still left both flushed.
“Oh,” the blonde breathed. The silence grew tense as neither made a move to do anything. When the quiet became unbearable, the older of the two stood, planning to leave, certain that he’d gone too far, but as he turned to go, a tight grip on his wrist held him back. He stared wide-eyed at the blushing teen, before slowly turning back to him and sitting back down.
“I- I’ve never… done this before, but, uh, I… I like you too,” Yuri stammered, looking at his lap. He received a kind smile from the other.
“Would you be my boyfriend?” He blurted out, making the sixth year blush to the tips of his ears, as he nodded earnestly. Jean laughed lightly and brought their lips together in a tender kiss. Yuri smiled softly and threaded his fingers through his new boyfriend’s short hair, before gripping tightly and pulling him closer. The raven-haired teen’s hands found their way to the blonde’s waist as he carefully climbed to sit on the bed next to him. Slowly, he lowered him so that he was hovering over him, one arm resting near the other’s head, the other still at his waist.
“You’re so beautiful,” he commented softly, causing the other to go pink.
“Shut up and keep kissing me,” Yuri replied, pulling him back down and wrapping his arms around his boyfriend’s neck. Their kiss resumed with more fervor, becoming deeper and hotter. As the other began lightly grinding their hips together, Yuri wrapped his legs around him, pushing them closer, creating more friction. Jean began peppering tender kisses down Yuri’s jawline and neck, running his teeth along the more sensitive areas, causing the blonde to let out little mewls and grind harder.
The door to the room opened as a hand slid under the younger one’s shirt, followed by an embarrassed shriek. The two making out on the bed pulled apart to see both the Yuuri Katsuki and Victor Nikiforov standing in the doorway, the former hiding his face in his hands and the second glowering angrily at Jean.
They received the scolding of a lifetime after that. It was totally worth it.