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WHO: Yuuri Katsuki & You
WHERE: All around the ship
WHEN: After his arrival (Dec. 29)
WHAT: Exploring the ISC ELUVIO
WARNINGS: None. (Both prose or brackets work for me! Will match.)

A. Closed to Viktor

By the time Yuuri's done with the orientation, his protests have stopped and an odd sort of numbness has taken over. He takes the duffel bag they hand him and lets the crew members usher him into the main promenade, where he's promptly left to his own devices. His stomach churns.

It was an anomaly, they'd said. As Yuuri takes in the passerby (all strangers), the unfamiliar technology, everything, it really starts to sink in: he's stuck on some ship in space with no way to get home. He's never going to see his family again, or his friends. Or Viktor. With that last thought, Yuuri's hit with the realization that he's going to miss the Grand Prix Finals. That after all the work he's put into getting there, he's let Viktor and everyone else who supported him down--

Yuuri chokes, duffel bag dropping to the ground to sit there, forgotten. He sinks down to the floor beside it, back to the wall, hands pressed to his temples. Caught up in his panicked thoughts, all Yuuri can do is struggle to keep his breathing steady and wait for this to pass.

B. Residence Lounge

"Fine" still isn't the word to describe him later, after a few hours have passed. Even knowing that Viktor's here with him doesn't entirely take away the sting in his chest, not when he's still missing the Finals, and everyone else they know is still back home.

So Yuuri does what he does best: distract himself. Without a rink or ballet studio to turn to, Yuuri latches onto the shelves of books instead, brown eyes scanning the titles with curiosity. Though he pulls out a few to flip through idly, he ends up putting them back quickly, apparently having no luck finding what he's looking for.

Finally, he stands back with a sigh. There's no helping it. Yuuri turns, biting his lip as he walks up to whoever's closest. "E-excuse me," he says hesitantly. "Do you know where I can find books on space travel? Something like an introduction, if it's possible."

C. Atrium

There's something soothing about the atrium, Yuuri thinks as he wanders among the flowers. It's not what he would have expected to find on a spaceship of all places, but he's not going to complain. Having Makkachin trotting along beside him is a familiar and welcome sight, too.

Or it would be, if Makkachin actually stayed there. When the poodle suddenly perks up and dashes off, Yuuri breaks into a run after him. "Makkachin, wait up!" In his haste to catch up with his wayward companion, Yuuri almost runs right into someone when he makes a sharp turn down the path.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Viktor's life has fallen into a series of new patterns over the last two weeks and then some. Space has become a visible concept, but not one he's had to directly engage with if he avoids looking out the "windows" into space. Since the ship had gone into hyperdrive, the tension has been almost palpable amoung the newest arrivals, and amoung the members of the crew who served the ship directly under the Captain's chain of command, but so too have the vistas been less imposing. It's allowed him some mental disconnect from how disconcerting it is to be constantly under a metal ceiling, fooled into the pretense of a sky in the atrium as long as he didn't look too closely to unravel the illusion. He's been able to collect himself in degrees and focus on what he can do, this far away from home. Possibly in another universe. No, probably in another universe.

The details still mattered, knowing that the person he'd wanted to watch over most had been left on his own to face the Grand Prix Final while he was here, immeasurably far away, with Makkachin dogging his heels.

He'd headed out on a run this early part of the day cycle, smiling and tossing a wave and a hello to shopkeeps he recognised on his way to the fitness center. With all the plans submitted to the proper ship authorities, he knew that eventually he'd be responsible for introducing an absurdity into space: ice skating. In the meantime, he maintained form best as he could. He had at least another month before anything would be worked out, but he was inspired, unfortunately inspired, to skate even now. Redirecting that urge into a half-assed attempt at figuring out how to work as an unrelated businessman (leaving the work to the employees has worked out best) hadn't been producing results worth speaking on; for the most part, he was sticking to a regiment of fitness and endurance training, with and without Makkachin in tow.

Walking back through the promenade, his thoughts turn inward, picking at the hurt that came with missing his life and the love of the people who weren't here. It's both difficult and too easy to turn those feelings over, let them wash through him as so many cresting waves. How is anyone supposed to conceptualize never? A loss that has no framing, no resolution, no...

He sighs, bringing his hand up to shove the fringe of his bangs off his forehead. He needs a shower. He's looking forward to it, even in the cramped bathroom attached to his studio flat. It's not where he wants to be. Where he wants to be is standing next to Yuuri, watching him step out on the ice that he'd have already skated over two weeks ago. Hell, by now, the Russian Nationals would also be over, but that doesn't feel as real as the visceral want to be by his side and not a unknown universe away.

His hand falls away, picking up into a jog. Better shake off the maudlin turn of mind creeping over him. Makkachin is resting back in his newest home. He'll collect on hugs as comfort and talk to his dog and the tiny furball that'd been living with them the last four days, and while it wouldn't make him miss Yuuri (or so many of the others he knew) any less, it would —

Viktor stumbles, coming to an abrupt stop as a break in the people walking past shows a man crouched down, sitting in the floor. His back is pressed against the wall, the familiar dufflebag issued to all new anomaly arrivals at his side. His hands are pressed to the sides of his head.

Viktor can't breathe. For an impossible moment, his mind grapples with the improbable, eyes widening as he jerks himself a step closer. "Yuuri?" He swallows, the rough word barely carrying past his lips. The vise around his chest tightens, and tightens, and his heart beats sluggish, as if time's slowing down, but it's not, it's not. Viktor feels the prickling of tears in his eyes. He simply lets them do as they will.

Because it's when he breaks into a run, bridging that distance between where he walked in his unfamiliar work out clothes, an athletic, sweaty mess to where Yuuri sits trying to hold himself together; it's when he's calling out Yuuri's name, unabashedly crying even as he's looking shocked, uncomprehending; it's when he's crashing down with artful, ingrained grace to his knees and reaching forward and giving no choice to Yuuri at all about being pulled into his awkward, warm, too tight, crouching hug; it's with all of this that he allows himself to believe, for this moment, that he's not dreaming. That this terrible thing, this terrible displacement, has claimed someone he cares about, and that the terribly selfish part of himself doesn't think it's worse that he's come than having him stay safely away.

"Yuuri! It's you, it's really you — I'm so sorry, I'm the sorriest man alive, I didn't mean to leave you there, I never — oh, Yuuri." He needs a moment to process his own immense relief, burying his head in his arms where they're locked around whatever he can hold of Yuuri, before he can properly register how he needs to pull together and help Yuuri, too.

He's so happy, and it hurts so much, that he doesn't know what to do except for cry, with that stupid, stupid expression of heartbroken relief that overtakes his face.

"Yuuri."

It's one of the few voices that can cut through his panic like this, a distant part of him realizes as he's pulled into a tight hug. Surprise flickers through him, followed by disbelief as he sits there, frozen in place and unable to return the hug immediately. He's barely had any time to come to terms with his loss before Viktor came crashing into his life for the second time in a year. Could it really be him? The pessimist in Yuuri warns him not to get his hopes up, in case he's wrong, and yet the solid presence before him isn't disappearing. His breathing begins to slow from its panicky, quickened pace as Viktor's voice continues to wash over him, making no sense at all. Yuuri finds that he doesn't care, as long as Viktor is really here with him.

Tentatively, and still shaking from the anxiety that had gripped him moments ago, Yuuri puts a hand on Viktor's chest and pushes him back just enough to see him clearly. It doesn't matter what his other senses are telling him; he needs to see Viktor's face. "You're...crying?" Shock ripples through him with the realization. But even that isn't enough to drown out the flood of relief that comes a second later.

"It really is you," Yuuri whispers, feeling his own eyes prickle with tears. "How? I didn't see you at the orientation or by the tubes." Yuuri is certain of this, if only because he had been looking the entire time, hoping to see a familiar face.

Edited (omg this is why you don't tag when you're half asleep) 2016-12-31 07:59 (UTC)

He doesn't pay much mind to the shocked surprise behind you're... crying?, just as he doesn't pay attention to the tears rolling down his cheeks. They're not important. Or they are, yes, they are, because he's feeling everything intensely enough this is his body's response. Pushed back, staring into Yuuri's face, the details start filtering in through his own heart-pounding shock. Through the elation and the confusion and the smaller weight of guilt burrowed in the pit of his stomach. He doesn't want to let go, but clinging is impractical, as is huddling on the ground in this public space. He should move.

He moves his hand, fingers tracing lightly over the curve of Yuuri's cheek. He ignores the slight trembling in his fingers just as he's ignored his tears. It is what it is.

He's not wearing his glasses. It goes further than that, of course — his hair is slicked back for competition, which doesn't quite make sense, unless more time has been passing and... but he's still competing! There's a fierce sort of happy joy in that thought even as he blinks, registering what he's been asked.

Viktor shakes his head, swallowing the thickness in his throat down. "After the first week it felt like moping to spend time hovering around the medical bay. I've been keeping busy —" he says, and he laughs at that, breaking into a smile for the first time since he's seen him, "God, Makkachin's here too, did you know? Somehow he came from Hasetsu even when I came from Barcelona." His hands are restless, thumb stroking Yuuri's cheek again and again, soothing himself as much as trying to be any reassurance to Yuuri. He wants to pull him into another hug. He doesn't want to let him go, to chance that this isn't real, but oh, he's awake. This is as real as anything else here in space, and it's that truth that has his smile fading, dimming a bit. His other hand squeezes Yuuri's shoulder.

"You don't have your glasses." As if the thought has only just struck him. "Do you have those tags they gave you? We can find the studio they assigned you, see if they're there." They can get out of this foreign public space, and into someplace where they can talk without the non-crew denizens of the Eluvio looking on. (At least, not obviously. He hasn't made presumptions on not being monitored everywhere on board; at least with theoretical capacity, if not active intent.)

Eyes briefly sliding shut, Yuuri leans into Viktor's touch and lets that ground him. It's both welcome and needed after the scare he's just had, though Yuuri can't help but feel guilty at the same time. If Viktor's here with him, then Yuuri wonders how their disappearances are being explained back at the Finals. For one brief, hysterical moment, he realizes that Yurio's going to kill both of them. If they ever see him again. Actually, Minako and Mari are a cause for worry, too, after they took the time to fly to Barcelona to support him.

Strangely enough, those quick, nonsensical thoughts calm him, despite the ache in his chest. Did he ever thank them properly for their encouragement? What about his parents? Or Yuuko and Nishigori and their daughters? He'd always thought he would have the time to work up to it after the Grand Prix series were over, but now it seems he'll never really have the chance to vocalize the feelings that have been ever present in his mind since he chose "love" as his theme for the season.

Suddenly desperate not to think about home, Yuuri latches onto Viktor's voice instead. He reaches a hand up to brush those tears away, touch lingering longer than necessary. Yes, okay. He can do this. Yuuri draws in a shaky breath. "Um, yeah, I think they're still in the bag somewhere," he says, fumbling for the straps.

Then, the rest of those words catch up to him, making him scrunch his brows together in confusion. "Wait, what are you talking about? 'After the first week'...?" He must've heard Viktor wrong, or maybe something had happened during that anomaly thing? Yuuri peers at him in concern.

It should be more discordant than it is. Viktor closes his eyes for a beat of his heart, subtly leaning his face into Yuuri's touch. Belatedly, his brain catches up enough to go oh, right. He's known he was crying. Now it registers, and it's dismissed. His tears won't last for long.

Blue eyes at times too sharp to be considered anything approaching kind open, searching Yuuri's face. The surprise doesn't make sense to him. So much about this doesn't make sense to him. Does he need to be more of a physicist? Study time theory? Alternate universes and realities? By now he's even made himself accept that there's not just one Earth, that there can't be, but that there might be many shared points in time from any one universe, including his own.

But he hasn't thought to apply that to him and Yuuri, so he answers in his own earnest confusion. "I've been here since... okay, I was counting, and I've started keeping a calendar as of four days ago. I've been here since... for the last eighteen days. Almost three weeks." Both hands find themselves on Yuuri's shoulders, holding the both of them steady in this mounting confusion. Viktor expects anger, or sadness, or... he doesn't know, but not this confusion.

"By the calendar I'm keeping now, Makkachin and I arrived on ship and were let out of the medical clinic on the eleventh of December. It's about the twenty-ninth now."

What it says about his priorities that he started keeping a calendar in space, stranded so far away from everything he knows as familiar, one that almost matches the Real Time that would have passed back home is something Viktor hasn't examined. At all.

"Eighteen days?" Yuuri's eyes widen as he protests immediately. "That can't be right. I was with you until that anomaly thing happened!"

To think that being transported away in the blink of an eye isn't the weirdest thing to happen today. Though Yuuri is certain Viktor was there with him in Barcelona, he also can't think of a reason Viktor would lie about how much time has passed. Besides, Viktor looks just as confused as he feels.

Yuuri can't help but stare, dazed, when Viktor brings up the dates. Quietly, he says, "Viktor, it's still the eleventh back home." None of this is making any sense.

He frowns, trying to sort out what he's hearing and all the thoughts tumbling through his head. He shoves the confusion to the side, making himself hold steady. It slows the fall of tears down his cheeks, taking him past that point and into the next necessity.

Figuring out what the hell had happened.

"... It's not, here. I..." His frown intensifies, sorting through what he's been hearing and discussing and overhearing over the last few weeks. He settles back, hands never leaving Yuuri's shoulders. He just has to laugh a little, sounding helpless in his amusement. "God, this gets more and more like some science fiction movie all the time. I didn't — I was so sure I'd left you to face the Finals on your own. Have you even skated your short program yet?"

How closely matched were their times of being taken away? What is it that Viktor doesn't remember?

The laugh sounds a little odd to Yuuri's ears; he's not sure he likes it, if it's hiding Viktor's distress from him. He ends up reaching for one of Viktor's hands, holding it in both of his own as reassuringly as he could. "You didn't," he says, recognizing the worry as a mirror of his own. "You were still with me right before I showed up here."

And then he's shaking his head. "We were just about to head out to the rink." To prove his point, Yuuri partially unzips his jacket to reveal the Eros costume underneath, before tugging it back up again. Silently, he frowns at their joined hands, clearly letting the gears in his head turn. "You're saying time's passed here, but not back home?"

His eyes trail down to follow the unzipping of his jacket, blinking as he takes in the sight of the familiar costume. It's hard to deny what he sees, so he doesn't. Yuuri remembers them both heading out to the rink, like Viktor himself recalls. Only there had been so much time between their arrivals. Why? (To anyone else, not even three weeks isn't so much time.)

He slowly squeezes Yuuri's hand, glad for the reassurance and the grounding. He lets the uncertainty be shoved aside, knowing he can deal with it, confident he will. They both will.

"Yes. Or something like that. It's not time not passing, it's..." He gives another squeeze of Yuuri's hand. "Whatever anomaly that brought me here into this universe was different than the one that brought you." His smile is more lopsided, not as confident as he wish he could be. None of this stuff precisely makes sense. Time, it turns out, is as relative as anything else Einstein talked about. "Time passed for me here that hadn't passed for you yet. We were both pulled from the same time, but we didn't both arrive here at the same time."

This is worse than the hundreds and thousands of years differences he's run into with fellow anomaly arrivals. This is far too close, and yet too inconstant on this end of things.

Frankly, it's all making his head spin. "This is all really confusing." Yuuri's face scrunches up again, infinitely disapproving of the complicated turn everything has taken.

It hits him abruptly, what the time difference means. Breath catching, Yuuri stares up at Viktor. His hands tighten around Viktor's. "Oh," he breathes. "You've been here by yourself this whole time."

Viktor had pulled him out of his panic, reassured him that someone he knew was here, too. That he wasn't alone. No one had been here to do that for Viktor. Wordlessly, Yuuri shifts forward, wrapping his arms around the other man's shoulders.

He won't promise it gets any less confusing. Perhaps all it does is get easier to accept in the ongoing quest for retaining sanity. Still, there's some comfort in that. He opens his mouth, prepared to say as much, that it doesn't get better, but it does get easier to take in.

Yuuri beats him to speaking. Shows, from the way he breathes in to the way he looks up at Viktor, that the time has sunk in. Viktor had been so sure he'd never see him again; never see Yuuri, or Yakov, or Yuri, or the number of people he held precious, counted on hands, maybe even toes.

It's enough that he simply blinks in stupefied surprise before his arms twitch, then come up to hold on to Yuuri in turn. His eyes close, and he breathes in, tucking his head against Yuuri's neck. Viktor himself isn't any prize post workout and pre-shower, but Yuuri? He smells like the medical bay, to be honest, but he also smells like himself. It's surprising how much that hits him like a punch to the gut.

"Oh, Makkachin's been with me," he says, but it's not to disagree. It's loyalty to his oldest friend. One who'd never held expectations Viktor had to perform up to. He squeezes his arms and holds Yuuri close, even when his shoulders offer mild protest, and his knees inform him the ground hasn't gotten any softer since the last time he met it. He sighs again, and this time, it's easier to smile. He doesn't want to pull back, but he also doesn't want them to linger in this hall. Reluctant, he pulls himself back, letting his arms slide from around Yuuri to take hold of Yuuri's arms as he smiles, looking tired and genuine all at once. "Let's get out of the halls."

"Oh," Yuuri says again, this time with a margin of relief. He knows as well as anyone how long Viktor's had Makkachin, and knowing that the poodle was here to bring Viktor some measure of comfort loosens the tightness in his chest.

With some reluctance, Yuuri pulls away to grab at the duffel bag again. A swift look around the promenade has Yuuri blushing, only now realizing how he and Viktor must have looked as they cried and hugged in such a public area. Not that it hasn't happened before, he thinks with resignation of the time he and Viktor had reunited at the airport. He's a bit helpless to stop it from happening, when Viktor pulls these emotions--so rare and practically unknown to him just the year before--out of him so easily.

Face still slightly flushed, Yuuri does some digging around, and finally produces the dog tags. He climbs back onto his feet, wincing at the pins-and-needles feeling in some parts of his leg. "Yeah, let's go." Almost as soon as those words leave his mouth, Yuuri falters, biting his lip. "Do you know how to get there? I can't see a thing without my glasses."

Viktor only cares about the public venue because some part of him is afraid if he doesn't keep Yuuri close and sweep him away somewhere private, he'll be swept up and impossible to find again. A ridiculous thought, but irrational as the feeling was, he knows it comes out of a place of being too aware that this is not a guarantee. Life is no guarantee.

He'll take it. He'll live it.

And with a soft chuckle, he'll reach out and snag Yuuri's free hand with his own, lacing their fingers together if he can get away with it. His other hand moves to lift Yuuri's dog tags, turning them around so he can catch the numbers listed on them. 03. The last two, indicating the floor Viktor lived on as well. "You know, when you say that, it is either much more flattering or very confusing how you always manage to remember where I am on the rinkside." A squeeze of his fingers and the ready grin fades, Viktor gently tugging Yuuri into motion. He settles into a walk, more sedate than he'd like. "I know the way. Assigned quarters are cramped but better than our last few hotel rooms."

The bathroom is actually smaller than any of their hotel rooms, but he opts not to mention that, leading them off through the promenade toward the lifts between levels.

Yuuri glances at Viktor, this time with a hint of incredulity in his eyes. Really? After asking Yuuri to seduce him with his skating several times, Viktor's surprised that Yuuri knows exactly where he is by the boards? For someone who seems so aware of his feelings, Viktor can be surprisingly dense at times. Yuuri shakes his head, just about ready to let that thought pass, unspoken. Then, he remembers exactly how much he's left unspoken to the people who mattered to him back home.

"It shouldn't be confusing," Yuuri says, carefully picking his words before he can lose his nerve. He doesn't want to feel regret like that again, when Viktor is still here with him despite everything. If he has to occasionally shove aside the comfortable silence he knows he lapses into often to make sure of it, then that's what he's going to do. "When I'm on the ice, I'm skating for you, too."

With that said, Yuuri picks up the pace, tugging Viktor along like he wants to run in embarrassment, but is unwilling to let go of his hand at the same time. His ears turn red as he leads them forward, despite not having any idea where he's going.

He'd been teasing, and has half a mind to simply smile and laugh it off as Yuuri corrects him. It's the considered nature of what he says that stills Viktor, listening with his head cocked and eyes trained on Yuuri. At first, he blinks, mind already going, Of course, that's what — before his brain catches up and he understands what Yuuri means.

(Or he thinks he does.)

"Yuuri..." Heart pounding with a happy lightness, Viktor picks up his pace so that he's pulling even with Yuuri as he's dragged forward. He angles in front of him, tugging their conjoined hands up toward his heart, eyes passing over the blush staining the tops of Yuuri's ears red. Viktor pulls Yuuri and his duffle bag into another hug, wrapping one arm over his shoulders and burying his face by Yuuri's ear for the second time in the last fifteen minutes. "I've missed you."

He misses other things, other people, too. But in return for hearing what he's known and also not known, for the thing that he most loved in watching Yuuri on ice, he settles on telling the love of his life something equally true and important.

He missed him. More than all the rest of what he was, he missed Yuuri.

Viktor's reaction does nothing to make the furious blush fade, and Yuuri can't even feel disgruntled about it when Viktor's being so sincere. Instead, he leans in, letting his forehead rest on Viktor's shoulder.

The words I missed you, too don't sound right, even in Yuuri's mind. Not when Viktor's been here for nearly three weeks, alone; all that considered, Yuuri doesn't feel like it would be fair if he said them, too.

"I'm here now," he says instead. And he's determined to keep it that way, if only so that Viktor has someone to turn to from now on.

He tightens his arm around him, giving Yuuri a quick squeeze at his words. That's what matters. Life may be an accumulation of the moments that come before the present, and a hope for those moments that come after, but it's the present that they're living in. It's why he can pull back, still holding Yuuri's hand up to his chest, and smile.

"Yeah. You are. Now, let's see about finding your room, yes? It's very — cozy. Also, I am unaware if you knew this, Yuuri, but space is very boring to see if there isn't a planet or something else close by."

He tugs on his hand again, keeping himself together and settling into that curious joy that has him subtly checking that Yuuri's still there with sideways glances and a squeeze of his hand every so often. The lifts between levels are fairly straightforward, elevators by another name. He encourages Yuuri to join him as the lift flashes that it's going down, only to reveal no one standing inside. Interesting. Not interesting enough for him to not step boldly onto the platform.

"Space is...boring?" Yuuri repeats, still in a bit of a daze. With Viktor guiding him through the crowds, though, Yuuri has no fear of getting lost. Even if they get separated--well, they've found each other here once before, and Yuuri knows they can do it again.

It doesn't take long for him to notice the way Viktor keeps glancing at him, like he's making sure Yuuri is still there with him. After the third time, Yuuri gives Viktor's hand a squeeze in return and holds on just a little tighter.

"It's hard to believe this entire thing is a ship," he finally says once they're on the platform. "And they said there's a shopping center and gardens and everything."

He's thankful for the squeeze of his hand, the way Yuuri holds on a little tighter. He's not blind to the fact this isn't a case of Yuuri needing the reassurance. It's a case of him giving that reassurance to Viktor. It makes him temporarily swallow past a lump in his throat, determined he'll do better going forward. He'll support Yuuri through all of this. Whatever this will bring.

"It's like a very, very big cruise ship. I think." He adds after a brief pause, realising he doesn't know what a cruise ship is like from personal experience. It doesn't really matter. This ship is part of his experience now, and he can work with that, flashing Yuuri a smile as he activates the panel and they're moving.

"You should take Makkachin out with you when you go exploring. He's particularly fond of the gardens. Did you know they even had snow for one day?" Small details. Unimportant things. Ones that are okay for being overwhelmed by, because they don't mean anything. They're easy to let go.

Unlike Yuuri.

"Oh," Yuuri says, blinking. "A cruise ship. It really is sort of like one, isn't it?" Not that he ever would have thought traveling in space would be like being in a cruise ship before this. Isn't getting into space supposed to be dangerous on it's own?

Visibly brightening at Makkachin's name, Yuuri's all too willing to agree. He's missed that poodle, even if it's only been a few days since they left Hasetsu, by his memory. The rest of it is rather dubious-sounding, though, and Yuuri matches it with a skeptical look. "They made it snow? Does that mean it can rain on the ship, too?"

Dangerous and costly, both for the fuel and the calculations needed to escape the planet's gravitational pull. Then again, Viktor is under the impression the Eluvio itself isn't a ship meant to enter planetary atmosphere. He isn't sure if he's right or wrong on that note.

The lift stops, and Viktor leads them out into a hall that looks remarkably like a smaller version of the ones they'd just left. "I would guess so, in the atrium," he says, frowning at the thought. "Their technology is..." He shakes his head, trailing off into laughter. "Ah, Yuuri! I wish you'd seen it. Are you familiar with the traditions around mistletoe or anything like it?"

"Way more advanced than anything we have back home?" Yuuri suggests, filling in the blanks when Viktor himself trails off.

Mentioning the mistletoe throws him for a loop, though, and he's all too relieved that he'd missed it. "I know of them. Mistletoe's really popular in America. A bunch of the Christmas parties around campus had those things when Phichit and I went."

He doesn't seem too fond of them, judging by the dismissive shrug he gives right then.

He nods, likewise not so impressed, but having dual purpose for bringing up that holiday oddity. "They had a similar tradition here, just the other day. A plant much like mistletoe that created a," he trails off, making a rolling motion with his hand as he leads them down the hall. "An invisible field? It kept people in place underneath. Makkachin was my gallant rescuer the first time."

He nods his head, since it'd only taken the one time to learn what to identify and be careful about where he and Makkachin were walking. "I helped one poor half-drunk soul escape as well."

Viktor hadn't even realised he remembered until now, and he taps his cheek with two fingers to indicate where he'd kissed the other man. He doesn't wink, though. Just shrugs. "The way technology works here is confusing and powerful. That's most of what I wanted to say."

This just keeps getting better. Or worse? Probably worse. The frown tugging his lips downward only grows.

"Regular mistletoe is bad enough," he sighs, looking thoroughly put out by the idea of these technology-enhanced ones. "Of all the Christmas traditions from Earth, they had to pick up that one? Why couldn't it have been the Christmas lights instead?"

Still grumbling a little, Yuuri glances over at Viktor with concern. "You don't think they really would've left anyone trapped there if they didn't play long?"

Viktor meets his glance with a small shrug and a level gaze. "Maybe, maybe not. But there is something to be said for choices in how you're able to move around, or in who helps you find that freedom. I wasn't so fond of it."

In fact he was significantly disapproving, but it seemed to be to little point when by and large he could get away from the one day event and not engage. The potential for that technology to be used in other ways concerns him more.

He doesn't need to talk about that right now. Instead, he smiles, winking at Yuuri. "Ah, so I would have been relying on Makkachin to rescue me even if you'd been here? What a sad day for Viktor Nikiforov, he won't even be kissed by his —" Counting the numbers on the doors, he comes to a halt. "Here we go! Your assigned living space!"

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i stg this is probably one of the only time's he'll cry and i have no icons im laughing

this feeling

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i cant believe that he's actually legit talking about mistletoe memes in game

of course he is

this has to be rom-com territory

it probably is

just has to laugh, ah