#''can i have my wallet back please'' being the first phrase i teach my boyfriend in elvhen not so much as a commentary on the

[princehendir]

Everyone worrying about Merrill sooooo much and always trying to make sure she's safe when she's walking alone because she's so sweet and unobservant inside her own head all the time omg what if something happens 💔 meanwhile Adrian gets pickpocketed literally every time he's in a crowd of any size and nobody gives a fuck.

[witharthurkirkland]

Something Lost Something Found

Summary: Who would ever steal form the living legend himself? That no good Yuuri Katsuki, that’s who! …Or not?

Notes: This is based on a prompt I got on ao3. I am always happy to get more prompts!

Pairing: Yuuri Katsuki/Victor Nikiforov (in the Bad Apple AU, so featuring Bad Boy Yuuri and Innocent Victor Nikiforov)

Read it here or on ao3

Yuuri Katsuki, 5-time world silver medalist, walked into the change room angry with himself, angry with the world, but mostly angry with the 5-time world champion who…

…who was going through his stuff.

“Hey! What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he demanded.

Victor Nikiforov, said 5-tme champion and thorn in Yuuri’s side, jumped up in embarrassment, clutching something in his hand. He stuttered something incoherent for several minutes before drawing himself up to his full height, which, although impressive, wasn’t enough to intimidate anyone. Cute little puppies could do a better job of being intimidating than Victor Angel-of-Figure-Skating Nikiforov.

Yuuri suppressed a laugh.

“Just taking back what you stole from me!” Victor exclaimed.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“This!” He held out a photo he’d stolen from Yuuri’s wallet of his dog, Vicchan.

“That’s my dog,” Yuuri said.

“No, it’s not! That’s my dog!” Victor protested.

“No, it’s mine.” Yuuri crossed his arms and leaned against the wall of lockers. He could pull out his phone and show proof that he had a dog just like Victor’s, but he didn’t feel like it. Besides, that could lead to the dangerous question of why he had a dog identical to Victor’s and with Victor’s name in the first place.

But, for some reason, this was persuasive enough for Victor. He gave a sad sigh and his head dropped. “I’m sorry. They-they keep saying that you’re a terrible person without morals who will do things just to mess with people and when I saw it was gone I thought maybe… maybe you stole it to get back at me for… for always beating you…” He gave another sigh as Yuuri suppressed the urge to say something nasty. “I guess that means he took it. I hoped it wasn’t him. I… I’d rather it was you, to be honest.” He raised his head and gave Yuuri a sad smile, handing the photo back to him.

“Who the hell are you going on about?”

“I have a fan,” Victor began, “well, a lot, actually, but there is this one fan who won’t leave me alone. He keeps following me around and asking me to go out with him.”

“And you won’t go out with him?” Hell, I’d break the guy’s arm if he tried something like that with me, but don’t you just do anything people tell you?

“Why should I?” Victor exclaimed and Yuuri found himself respecting the man, even if only a little bit. “I…” He blushed deeply and turned away. “I… I like someone else.”

Yuuri shrugged. Obviously this someone else, if they actually existed, was someone who Victor hadn’t confessed their feelings to. “Then why don’t you tell this guy to screw off?” He said dismissively. “Or,” he imagined how Victor would phrase it, “or “my good sir, why don’t you please get lost?” Something like that, anyway.”

“I tried. I told him I’m not interested. I asked him to go away…” Victor lowered his eyes and fidgeted.

“Then tell him you have a boyfriend.” Surely even you can tell a little white lie!

“I can’t lie about that!” Victor exclaimed. “I’m Victor Nikiforov! Everyone follows my life on every single social media network available!”

“Of course they do. How could I possibly forget?” Yuuri rolled his eyes.

It was a stupid idea, but Yuuri had gone beyond caring what others would think or say a long time ago. It was probably also the least original idea in the world.

“I’ll deal with him. Come with me,” he ordered and headed out of the change room.

Victor rushed after him. “What-what will you do?”

“Tell him to back off.”

“But it won’t work! I already tried that.” And then Victor stepped in front of him. “I-I won’t let you hurt him or… or threaten to hurt him!”

Yeah, as if you can actually prevent me from doing that. I can break most of the bones in your body, if I wanted to. “Who said anything about hurting anyone?”

“I know about you,” Victor stammered out. “Bad Yuuri, they all call you. Y-you’re no good and you…”

Yuuri watched with mild amusement as the most innocent man he’d ever met tried to tell him off, acting as if he’d put “kick me” signs on people’s backs and left thumbtacks on the teacher’s chair.

Oh, I won’t deny what you’re saying, but you have no idea how bad I really am. And because I’m a real bastard I will do something extremely nasty. “You done yet, teach?”

“Yuuri! Promise me you won’t hurt him!”

“Alright, alright, and I’ll go to church on Sundays and all that crap.” He saw the confused look on Victor’s face and sighed. “I promise I won’t hurt him. Now take me to him.”

He let Victor lead the way out to where all the press was and the screaming fans were in a big group, chanting something stupid as usual.

“That’s him,” Victor said quietly.

Exhibit A, as Yuuri would’ve called him, if he’d been a cop, was your standard disgusting I-wish-I’d-never-met-fans-like-you kind of fan. He made Yuuri’s screaming fans who threw their underwear to him look like a dream come true. It was impossible to like a fan like him even if he had a great personality. He was gross and creepy and probably had every single merchandise with Victor on it ever made.

Yuuri let his face twist in disgust as he headed straight for him. “Hey, you! Yeah, you ugly! Back away from my boyfriend!”

“Y-your boyfriend?” the fan repeated, stepping back. “Who on Earth are you talking about?” He looked around, as if trying to find someone with a giant “Yuuri’s boyfriend” sign in their hands.

“Victor Nikiforov! Ever heard of him?” Which was a stupid question in any other circumstances: the man had a shirt with Victor’s picture on it, as well as his name in case he ever forgot who to cheer for in a competition.

“What?” the fan exclaimed in something approaching a squeal. “As if Victor Nikiforov would ever go out with you!”

Right back at you, moron. “Well, he is!” Yuuri insisted. He turned to look at the living legend. “Isn’t that right, babe?” You deny this, I swear to god, I’m walking straight out of here and you can deal with Sleazy on your own.

“Yes!” Victor exclaimed, blushing. “Yes, he is!” It sounded a little too desperate to be convincing, but that didn’t matter.

“See?” Yuuri said, eyeing Victor out of the corner of his eye, waiting for him to apologize for lying.

“I don’t believe you!” the fan insisted, spluttering. God, the man didn’t so much say his words as spray them!

“Oh, you want proof, do you?” Yuuri demanded acidly. The fan was starting to really get on his nerves. He debated beating him up anyway. “You don’t believe my word, fine I get that, but not even goody-two-shoes over here? The man couldn’t lie, if his life depended on it!” Actually, Yuuri was a little surprised Victor had gone along with his little deception. Maybe he was very desperate, more desperate to get rid of Sleazy than Yuuri had initially thought. “I suppose you want me to tell you all about the sex we had last night. How we kept half the floor awake with our screams? Or how Victor kept begging for more? Is that what you want to hear?” He was inventing as he went, but that didn’t matter. He was good at inventing on the fly.

“A-as if Victor would have sex with you!” Sleazy shouted back.

Yuuri was almost insulted. Almost.

They looked at Victor and Yuuri waited for the inevitable denial. Here was the living legend’s reputation as an innocent angel at stake. What would he do next?

“I-it’s true!” Victor insisted. “He did! And he’s really good! That’s why I kept begging for more!” His face was so red it was almost purple.

“This is a trick!” Sleazy said, showing that, against all other available evidence, he had a functioning brain. “Isn’t it? You’re just pretending!”

Yuuri was really getting into his stride now. “Oh you want me to pull all of the used condoms out of my garbage can? Or, maybe, we should go and find the cleaning staff that was in my room this morning and ask them if they were traumatized by what they found?” Yuuri’s imagination was starting to run out on him. If the fan had asked him what the cleaning staff could’ve possibly found, he would’ve been forced to admit that he had absolutely no idea. “All just to prove it to you? You want to hear all the gory details? Well, screw you and all the people like you! You’re just a nasty, pathetic little man who knows he can’t get it on with anyone and picks a weak target to terrorize instead. We don’t owe you anything! You got that? Absolutely nothing and it doesn’t matter if we have someone or not!”

Yuuri paused, because breathing had to happen eventually. He took in the glow in Victor’s eyes and tried to keep back from snapping. Don’t look at me like that! You should be the one saying this, not me! Why do I have to stand up for you? Why can’t you –

His brain ground to a halt as Victor leaned forward, put his hands carefully on his shoulders and kissed him on the cheek.

He pulled away almost as soon as his lips touched Yuuri’s face. “S-sorry, I… uh…”

“If you’re going to kiss me, do it properly.” Now what will you do?

Victor’s response was to do just that: he pressed his lips against Yuuri’s with all the enthusiasm of someone who’d heard that kissing was a thing people did, but had no idea how it worked. He managed to hit Yuuri’s nose with his own too.

Yuuri pulled away to get into a better starting position and lunged at the living legend, pulling him close with his arms.

And how long will you keep this up for?

“Oh my god! I don’t believe it! Everyone! Victor Nikiforov is dating Yuuri Katsuki!” the fan screamed and ran off.

Yuuri pulled away when it became obvious that Victor forgot how to do that. “Well?” he raised an eyebrow. “Now what?”

“Will you go out with me?” Victor asked.

“Might as well keep up pretences, huh?”

“No!” Victor protested. Yuuri released him, but Victor caught him by the arms. “I really want to go out with you! …Um… if you want to.” He lowered his eyes. “They keep telling me that you’re no good, but I can’t help it. I-if you want, we can just go out for a little while and… um… maybe you’ll like being with me. I know you must hate me…”

Yuuri watched Victor flail and avoid the main words, feeling his eyebrows rise higher on his forehead.

“Wait!” he interrupted. “Hold on. What are you saying?”

“I like you, Yuuri,” Victor admitted, blushing. “I’ve liked you for a while now…”

“Oh, so not for all of the last ten minutes?” Yuuri asked, only half-joking.

“What? N-no…”

“And here I thought you were just really turned on by my description of the sex we supposedly had last night.”

Victor blushed deeper. “I… uh… We can do that too, if-if you want.”

Yuuri burst out laughing. “What? Bad Yuuri go out with pure and innocent Victor? And then strip him of his innocence? Really?”

“I’m sorry… you probably hate me…”

Yuuri swung out and gave Victor a smack on his backside. “Hate? No, I don’t hate you. If anything, I find you annoying. As in: it’s annoying how perfect you are, how you keep beating me in every competition, how you actually are amazing at skating and it’s not just biased judging that gets you your gold medals.” Victor stared up into Yuuri’s face in surprise. “It’s annoying how, despite the fact that you’re a goody-two-shoes, which should disgust me, being against everything I believe in, I still can’t hate you.” He reached out and pinched Victor’s cheek. “It’s annoying that you’re so damn beautiful. No one has the right to be that beautiful.”

Victor put a hand over his cheek where Yuuri had pinched him.

“And I want to go out with you,” Yuuri said, “but…”

“But?”

“Only if you give me another kiss.”

Victor leaned forward, but Yuuri put a hand over his mouth, “Oh, and I pinched this from Sleazy’s pocket.” He held up the photo of Victor’s dog. “Do I deserve a kiss from the great god of figure skating himself now?”

Victor took Yuuri’s face in his hands. “Yes.”

The press chose that moment to stop milling about uselessly on the side somewhere and circle the living legend and the runner up as their kiss really got going. Cameras were primed and aimed at the two skaters to document this historic event as well as any deep and meaningful words that would be said afterwards.

Yuuri, knowing full well the kind of crap newspapers loved writing about, waited until he got enough before pulling away and saying, “Well, babe? My room or yours this time?”

“I-I don’t know,” Victor admitted, his hands on his head, looking dizzy.

Yuuri laughed. “You might want to take your skates off first, though.”

And he knew that regardless of what the press wrote about them the near future was going to be full of innocent sappy dates. And probably ice cream.

He saw another skater coming down the hall towards them and tried to remember his name. Wasn’t he friends with Victor?

“Kiss me again,” Victor said, turning around to face him.

“What’s this I hear about you two going out?” the skater asked.

And then hell arrived in the shape of Victor’s coach. He barged past everyone, elbowing people out of his way until he was right in front of Yuuri. “You! Stay away from my pupil! You got that?”

“No, Yakov!” Victor stepped between them. “Yuuri is my boyfriend and I won’t let you hurt him!”

Everyone in the hallway suppressed the urge to burst out laughing. It was obvious from the expressions on their faces how much they wanted to laugh at the living legend at that moment.

“Really, Vitya? Why are you encouraging these silly rumours?”

“They’re not rumours! It’s true!” Victor protested.

Yuuri put an arm around him. “You got a problem with that, old man?”

Yakov had the look of someone who just discovered that the hurricane that he’d been hearing about was about to come and tear his own house apart. “Absolutely not!”

“Then I’m retiring from figure skating!” Victor exclaimed.

Everyone went absolutely silent. The words echoed down the hall.

“I’m retiring,” Victor repeated in a quieter tone of voice. “Let’s go, Yuuri.” He caught Yuuri’s hand in his own and smiled. “I can be your coach, if you want.”

They went inside the change room, still followed by the stunned crowd. Under several pairs of watchful eyes Yuuri lowered himself onto his knees in front of Victor and removed his skates. It wasn’t comfortable, because he was still in skates himself, but in that moment it didn’t matter: he’d just snatched the living legend away from the whole world and he was going to flaunt the fact as much as he could.

“Yuuri…” Victor whispered, blushing.

“You can’t decide to retire just like that!” Yakov burst out, apparently remembering how to speak.

Victor ignored him, staring into Yuuri’s face. “I’m all yours, Yuuri,” he said with a big smile, taking Yuuri’s head in both hands.

Much later there was the backlash from the press. There were nasty rumours going around about Yuuri and his influence over Victor. People said it was blackmail, or that Yuuri had somehow bullied Victor into going out with him. Someone brought up abuse.

No one knew that that evening they sat outside on a bench, their arms around each other.

“I like the dark,” Victor whispered. “It’s so mysterious…” He looked into Yuuri’s face.

“You’re not really going to retire?” Yuuri asked.

“Of course not!” Victor said. He pulled the photo out of his pocket. “Do you really have a dog just like mine?”

“Yep.”

“What’s his name?”

“Victor.”

“Oh.” There was a pause. “You didn’t…?”

“No,” Yuuri lied. “There was a boy named Victor I was in love with when I was younger. He had long blond hair and he was really good at figure skating.” Crap!

Victor chuckled. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone. Your secret is safe with me.”

“Yeah, whatever.” But you’re going to be smug about this, aren’t you?

“My dog’s name is Yuuri,” Victor said.

“Yeah, I always wondered about that…” Yuuri (not the dog Yuuri, but the skater Yuuri) admitted.

“There was this boy I was in love with when I was younger,” Victor went on. “He had short black hair and he was very good at figure skating.”

They stared at each other in silence for several seconds as the meaning of what they’d said to each other sunk in.

“Seriously?” Yuuri asked.

“Yep!” Victor beamed.

“It’s nice to know that I’m not the only one who acted like a moron all these years.”

Victor laughed and buried his face in Yuuri’s neck, reaching out for Yuuri’s hands. “Yuuri?” he whispered after a while.

“Hmmm?” God! That feels really good!

“H-have you gone out with anyone before?”

“Nope.” And that was the absolute truth. He’d been too busy killing people to remember that apart from hate there were other emotions available (well, with Victor being the exception, as it turned out).

“S-so… um…” He paused and pulled his face away to look into Yuuri’s eyes. “D-do you know how to… um…?”

Yuuri laughed. “Not a clue.” He pinched Victor’s face again, laughing at his expression. “I guess we’ll have to figure it out. We can experiment and see what works and then write a paper into the medical journal of your choice.”

“Um…” there was that puzzled embarrassment again.

“I was kidding. You can worry about it, if you want, lose sleep and all that, but it doesn’t really matter. Not yet, anyway.” He released Victor and reclined against the back of the bench. “Besides, that’s what the Internet is for.”

How had they moved so fast? And with Victor Nikiforov of all people!

The world sure was full of odd surprises. He felt Victor rest his head against his shoulder and closed his eyes.

And there were probably more surprises in the future…