the stars in my sky/viktuuri

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*Viktor

It had been 2 months since Yuuri won silver at GP. Whilst Yurio and I stayed in Russia, Yuuri had left to go back to Japan to be with family.

We had talked every day since, surprisingly. With Yuuri's workout schedule and practice hours I had seared into his brain, most of our phone calls were late at night, and we sent each other texts throughout the day.

The first text Yuuri sent me when he left to go to Japan was I miss you, sent right as he got off the plane. The last text he's received from me was the exact same words, sent right as he got on another plane, heading here.

In the time span of the 62 days without hugging, kissing, holding, sleeping with, or simply being able to hear an un-digitized laugh of Yuuri's, we replaced them with Skype calls, text messages, and voicemails of Yuuri's singing saved to my phone to help me fall asleep on the more lonesome nights, which occurred much more often than I would prefer.

We also sent each other pictures; he sent me pictures of the ocean by the bridge without context, and in return I'd send him pictures of the town and the people laughing, walking down the street drinking hot wine and carrying shopping bags. Sometimes they'd be of Minami, his face close to the camera with a smile lighting up my whole phone screen, and other times it'd be Yurio, a peace sign accompanied by a rude glare, or him grabbing at my phone, try to take it away. And then, sometimes it would just be us. I could tell by the pictures of Yuuri, aside from his smile going from shy and unsure to goofy grins and tongue out, that his hair had also started to grow longer, becoming shaggy around the frame of his face and well down his forehead. What an absolute dork- a beautiful, loving, perfect, shy, wonderful, mesmerizing, sexy at the most random times, sometimes a better top than me, angelic dork.

I stood above the stove, watching the pork cook steadily and perfectly as Yurio talked on the phone with his boyfriend. He was going on about how annoying Russia, me, and Yakov were as Otabek listened on the other line quietly. I smiled at Yurio's gossiping voice as he went on about the other skater's progress that he's seen, and then paused to assure Otabek that he'll still get on the podium with him, even though Otabek had said nothing.

My heart was racing as I stared at the clock. 9:23 p.m. Yuuri should be here any second. I looked down at the table before me; two pork cutlet bowls sat neatly in their places, steaming its delicious odor throughout the house. "I'm leaving now," I heard Yurio call from the sitting room. He walked past me and I waved, smiling. "Прощай, Yurio!" My voice was rushed and enthusiastic as my heart beat at an insane rate.

"Yeah, yeah. Tell the pig I say welcome back. And s-stop calling me that!" He yelled, his face flushing red. Teasing Yurio calmed me down just a bit, and I smiled to myself at his showing of kindness towards my Yuuri.

Yuuri's coming home.

As I waited, Makka and I sat together on the couch, my hands going up and down his stomach. He licked my face and I smiled warmly at him. "Yuuri's coming home, Makkachin," I whispered tiredly, trying to keep my eyes open. As Makkachin excitedly yelped, I failed myself, and slipped into a calm sleep.

*Yuuri

I frustratingly check my phone once more to see a blank screen. I had texted Viktor as soon as I got off the plane, but he still hasn't answered. I need a ride, or his address! I texted him, again.

Viktor!

Viktor answer me

I stg

You LITTLE SHIT PEOPLE ARE LOOKING AT ME

I SWEAR IF THIS IS ONE OF YOUR "IT'S CUTE TO SEE YOU FLUSTERED" ITS NOT CUTE