"How did you get Mari to laugh?" Yuuri asked between giggles as Viktor finished one of his weird tales from his life in Russia. "She, like, never laughs, she's always so serious!"
Viktor grinned mischievously at him. "I told that exact story to your family and they loved it, of course!" He popped a bite-sized cookie in his mouth and chewed thoughtfully before continuing, "Your parents are just wonderful, Yuuri! I'm so glad I was able to meet them sooner rather than later." His smile was so pure Yuuri's heart ached.
"I-um, yeah, they are really great. I was, you know, hoping to properly introduce you maybe sometime later. Way later," Yuuri near-whispered into his empty mug.
"Awwww Yuuri, are you embarrassed of me?" Viktor pouted cutely across the table.
Yuuri spluttered, thankful that there was no hot liquid for him to spill unceremoniously all over himself. "I-no, of course not! I just, um, I never really… came out to my family?" He scratched nervously at his ear. "I don't think they'd mind really, or make a big deal out of it, because it's really not a big deal even to me, but, I just-you know, it's something I kept putting off?" The argument sounded weak even to him, even though it was the honest to goodness truth of the matter.
"Oh, Yuuri!" Viktor leaned all the way across the table and kissed the tip of his nose. "If I'm being truthful, I never came out to my family, either. I left Russia before I discovered it myself and it doesn't seem like a conversation to have on the phone." He sighed and waved his hand in the air dismissively. "Anyway, for our date on Friday, don't worry about dressing formally or anything. I want to make up for the trouble I've caused you the past few days." Yuuri nodded resolutely. "And to be safe, maybe pack an overnight bag this time, da?"
Friday rolls around before Yuuri even realizes it. Viktor continued to text him as often as before their little spat, if not even more. Yuuri finally responds to that boy, Phichit, and they make plans to read over each other's essays that weekend. They even got coffee together Thursday morning at the cafe he and Viktor had their study "date" at a few weeks ago. Phichit seemed nice enough, if not a little naive and a tad overbearing, especially at 9 in the morning before Yuuri'd had any caffeine. The Thai boy was only a year younger than Yuuri and was also in his final year in university. He was a lit major as well. Yuuri was happy to have made another friend-he could tell the two were going to become close in the near future.
[received] You're done with classes at 11 right? -V
[sent] ya, aren't you as well?
[received] meet me under the maple tree in the middle of campus after your last class! I have a surprise for you lyubov moya! (((o(*ﾟ▽ﾟ*)o)))
[sent] Will you ever tell me what that means?
[received] ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
Yuuri chuckled to himself as he read the messages from Viktor. He knew he could look up the rough translation of all the Russian pet names Viktor called him, but honestly, where was the fun in that? Excitement for whatever surprise Viktor had in store for him thrumming through his veins, Yuuri took his seat for his final lecture of the week-his final lecture before his date with Viktor! He'd reluctantly taken Viktor's advice to pack an overnight bag-some spare clothes, actual pajamas, toothbrush, his medication-and only felt his face burn (out of embarrassment? anticipation?) for the first ten minutes of packing. He'd even managed to tell his mom he'd be staying the night at Viktor's without once stuttering or breaking eye contact.
(His mother, of course, smiled warmly and simply said, "I hope you have fun, dear. Be safe!" while Mari cackled as Hiroko's words caused Yuuri's blush to spread all the way down his neck.)
Phichit elbowed him from his spot next to Yuuri in the too-large lecture hall. "Are you okay? You're zoning out hardcore," he whispered.
Yuuri nearly dropped his pen at the contact, surprised. "A-ah, yeah, I'm just-I have something later and I'm excited is all."
Phichit gasped and clapped his hands together as quietly as he could. "Does somebody have a hot date later?" He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. Yuuri merely blushed in response and ducked his head. "Oh my gosh you totally do you sly dog-"
"Excuse me, is there something more interesting than Chinua Achebe's critically acclaimed works going on over there?" a booming voice called from the front of the lecture hall. "Pay attention or I'll have to ask you to leave class."
The two mumbled apologies, Phichit trying his hardest not to let his smirk slip through his remorseful facade. He slyly texted Yuuri "Fill me in on the details later, ok?" underneath the desk. Yuuri shook his head, but had a smile on his face, the lecturer droning on and on for another 30 minutes.
Yuuri waved goodbye to Phichit, promising to text him later, "though maybe not until tomorrow…."
"Yuuri~! Get some!" Phichit laughed heartily and waved back while walking the opposite direction.
"Yuuri!" He instantly recognized the voice, whipping his head around to the source. Sure enough, Viktor was waving to him, already seated on the bench beneath the maple tree. Most of the leaves had fallen from the great plant, but a few yellow and orange leaves still clung desperately to a few branches. Crunchy, browning foliage littered the ground below in at least a ten foot radius. There, below the big beauty, sat an even more stunning human, and that man was Yuuri's boyfriend, somehow. Viktor patted the empty spot next to him on the bench, a wide smile plastered on his face. "I packed us a picnic lunch, solnyshko! Come eat with me." Yuuri obliged, overjoyed that Viktor thought of him while preparing his own lunch. "Who was that boy you were talking to? I haven't seen him around."
"Ah, his name is Phichit. He's in my advanced historical lit class. We've been messaging the past few days and have a peer-editing session planned for that big paper coming up." Yuuri glanced at the cliche picnic basket sitting at Viktor's feet. "What did you pack for us?"
Viktor picked up the basket and set it in the minimal space between their thighs and opened the lid to reveal a whole spread-it all appeared to be loosely Spanish themed food. "Do I sense an up and coming rival both for your heart and your tutoring sessions? Yuuri, you scoundrel you!" he teased lightly as he pulled out a few variations of tapas.
"I-I! No, it's not like that at all I swear!" Yuuri said, his hands raised defensively.
The man laughed at Yuuri's nervous behavior. "I'm only joking, lyubov moya. I trust that I have fully captured your heart so that no other man might partake! Now, eat up!" He lifted a patata brava to Yuuri's mouth.
Cheeks tinged pink, Yuuri opened his mouth reluctantly. This is so ridiculous but Viktor is so gorgeous and he's so excited to do this. He eyed the open basket and saw all sorts of cheese and olive assortments next to fancy-looking crackers, along with some mysterious-looking chunks of meat and potatoes. Nevermind the fact this is incredibly intimate and happening in the middle of campus. Viktor smiled widely, lips shaped in a wide heart, as he waited for Yuuri's reaction. "Oh, it's, um, it's really great Viktor!" Yuuri exclaimed, completely forgetting that his mouth was full of half-chewed potatoes.
Viktor only looked slightly mortified when little bits of spittle infused with Spanish snacks landed on his lap.
Oh my god oh my god oh my god I practically just spit up food all over him oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god.
"Viktor-oh my god Viktor I am so-oh my god I'm so sorry!" Yuuri practically screeched. He hastily began wiping away the crumbs from Viktor's slacks, haphazardly brushing his hands this way and that in a vain attempt to get his gross… excrements away from Viktor's body as possible.
After one particular swipe, Viktor stiffened and gripped Yuuri's wrist, stilling his movements. "Ah, it's quite alright, Yuuri. No problem at all. I'm glad you enjoy it," he gritted through clenched teeth.
Yuuri glanced down at where Viktor's hand and his wrist were joined. If Yuuri moved his fingers just a smidge, his palm would be flat against Viktor's-oh. Yuuri's face turned from a cute, wind-flushed pink to a full-on vermillion in 0.2 seconds flat. "I am-oh my god Viktor-I-oh my god I am so sorry please I wasn't trying to… you know," he managed out in one breath. He yanked his arm from Viktor's white-knuckled grip (perhaps a little too roughly-Viktor only winced a little though, so it must have been okay, right?) and pushed down the urge to dig a ten foot hole in the ground for him to curl up into and die.
"It's okay, Yuuri. You apologize too much." Viktor beamed at his companion before taking a few bites of food himself. He offered some of the other morsels to Yuuri, and they easily fell into easy conversation.
Three-quarters of the way through the picnic basket, Viktor raised his arms above his head in a stretch and hopped up from the bench. "Yuuri!"
Yuuri looked up from his crumb-covered lap. "Yes, Viktor?"
"Would you like to join me on a walk with Makkachin? I'm not sure if you were planning on going home before we went out tonight, so I thought I'd invite you along in case you weren't." Viktor leaned over at the waist so he was eye-level with Yuuri, their noses almost touching. He spoke softly, but with such conviction Yuuri couldn't help but follow along every word as if they were beads on a string.
"I'd love to walk Makkachin with you," Yuuri said. He stood up and dusted the crumbs from his jeans. "Did you bring your car? I brought mine, but I can follow you if you also drove here."
Viktor picked up the basket, placing the leftover tapas inside gingerly. "I drove here but I'm letting Chris borrow my car again-" Chris, that super hot guy who is 'just a friend' "-so we can ride together." He took Yuuri's hand in his and began walking toward the nearest student parking lot.
Before long they ended up at Yuuri's car. Like the gentleman Yuuri knows Viktor is, the brunette opens the passenger door first only to see his packed overnight bag sitting in the passenger seat, mocking Yuuri's eagerness. He couldn't help the flush that no-doubt took over his entire body.
"Oh my, Yuuri! I didn't think you'd take my advice to heart!" Without warning, Viktor spun Yuuri around and planted a sweet (but overwhelming all the same) kiss to his lips. "Oh, solnyshko, I can't wait to spend another night with you in my arms."
Somehow Yuuri managed to recover from the utter mortification he felt upon having to move his overnight bag to the back seat. He only blushed a little bit on the (mostly silent) 15 minutes drive to Viktor's place. When they arrived, Yuuri could hear the sounds of Makkachin walking about, occasional whines slipping under the door and into Yuuri's earshot.
Viktor unlocked the door and stepped inside and was immediately attacked by a big brown ball of fluff. He chuckled and dropped to his knees in the doorway, scratching Makkachin behind her ears. "Yuuri and I are home, Makka! Ready for a walk?"
Yuuri tried not to overthink the fact that Viktor was telling Makkachin that Yuuri was home, in their home; he tried not to think of all of the implications that came along with that statement. He tried his hardest not to freak out. It's just a turn of phrase. He probably meant it casually, like 'Yuuri and I are in my home,' not 'Yuuri and I are in our home.' Yeah, that's got to be it.
"You can set your bag in the bedroom if you'd like. I'm going to grab Makka's leash quickly and we'll be all good to go!" Viktor's voice (fortunately) broke Yuuri out of his downward spiralling thoughts. Yuuri's eyes trailed after his TA as the man walked into the kitchen and opened a closet door.
Shaking his head, Yuuri made his way to the bedroom, Makkachin following at his heels. With a warm smile on his face, Yuuri stopped for a moment to pet the dog before he remembered he had washed Viktor's Tupperware from the other day (What an awful day that was). He quickly set down his overnight bag and dug out the clean plasticware. When he turned around, Viktor was leaning against the doorframe, his expression unreadable. Yuuri blushed lightly and thrusted the containers into Viktor's vicinity. "I, um, cleaned the dishes you leant me the other day. Thanks, again, and I'm still so sorry I had to leave before we got the chance to eat together properly."
Viktor shook his head and waved his hand in the air dismissively as he reached for his dishes. "Did you know you coo like you're talking to a baby when you pet Makkachin?"
Yuuri absolutely wanted to die. His cheeks radiated heat all the way to the tips of his ears. "Uh, no, I didn't know that. Um, I'm sorry if it was… weird. To look at. Or something."
"Don't be silly, solynshko. I found it utterly adorable!" Vikor gave Yuuri a chaste kiss on the cheek. "I'll set this down and then we can head out."
Suddenly unaware what to do with his hands, Yuuri stuffed his balled fists into his pockets and followed as quietly as possible behind Viktor. Good, I "coo?" He must think I'm a total lunatic. Viktor lead him out of the front door and locked it behind him. Smiling brightly, he reached out for Yuuri's hand, Makkachin's leash clasped tightly in the other. The poodle took off instantly, basically dragging Viktor (and therefore Yuuri) behind her as she sped off into the parking lot.
"Ah, she still acts like a puppy even though she's hit her senior years already." Viktor said apologetically. "Once we get to the dog park down the block and let her off the leash, you'll truly see what a monster she can be."
Yuuri smiled sweetly down at where Makkachin was frantically trying to run after a stray bird. "I think it's sweet. I've missed having a dog around."
Viktor gave Yuuri's hand a reassuring squeeze.
They fell into amicable silence as they made the rest of the trek to the fenced off park. Soon enough, Makkachin's leash was unclipped from her collar and, sure enough, the dog bolted. Yuuri swore he could see cartoon dust clouds trail behind her as she ran to play with the other few dogs in the small park.
"Yuuri! Look, there's a bench over here. Come take a selfie with me!" Viktor pulled Yuuri along via their still connected hands.
Shit, I look awful today. I haven't had a chance to look in a mirror since this morning! What if my hair is doing something weird? What if there's something in my teeth and Viktor is too nice to tell me? No, Viktor would probably tell me, he seems fairly shameless, and he'd probably think I wouldn't die from the mortification of having to pick who knows what out of my teeth in front of the hottest person alive.
But it turns out Viktor with a front-facing camera is ruthless and does not care how much you don't want to take a picture. Viktor takes so many pictures. Yuuri isn't sure he's ever had that many pictures taken of him ever, let alone in the span of five minutes. "Yuuri! These are all so good! How am I supposed to pick just one to post to Instagram?"
"You could make a collage of the best ones." Somehow Yuuri always manages to say the smartest things at the worst possible moment. Almost always, those words end up in his embarrassment.
"You're so smart, Yuuri!" Viktor beamed at Yuuri before turned back to his phone, fingers tapping away, swiping and pinching to zoom in and out. Yuuri shook his head gently, anxious to see his pictures and the inevitable comments from "christophe-gc."
They spend the next God knows how long chatting about their interests, sharing random stories (Viktor told Yuuri about the most intense prank war he'd ever heard, involving glitter, ranch dressing, and at one point 1000 paper cranes). People come and go from the park, Makkachin playing with all sorts of dogs throughout the afternoon. As the sun began to touch the horizon, the poodle came over to Viktor and Yuuri and laid down at their feet. The couple-too busy hanging onto each word the other spoke-didn't notice that Makkachin had fallen asleep until Yuuri's stomach gave a loud, angry grumble, disrupting the peace they'd created in their own little bubble.
Viktor chuckled and scratched Makkachin behind her ears, waking the pup up. "We've been here for way too long, I think. How about dinner at my place?" He winked at Yuuri before standing up and stretching his arms above his head. His shirt rode up, revealing the washboard abs Yuuri has spent many a night dreaming about running his tongue over (and definitely just dreaming, not doing anything else while he thought of Viktor's rippling muscles, of course).
Yuuri's cheeks flared red with the heat of embarrassing, perverted thoughts. "Um, yeah, that sounds great, Viktor."
Sensing something weird in his voice, Viktor cocked his head to the side before taking Yuuri's hand and leading them through the exit of the dog park. They fell into companionable silence as they walked, both enjoying the company. Makkachin's nails click-clacked against the pavement of the sidewalk rhythmically, background noise as Viktor swung his and Yuuri's clasped hands between their bodies.
Viktor had the goofiest smile on his face by the time they reached his apartment. He unlocked the door and gave Yuuri a quick peck on the lips, unhooking Makkachin's lead. "I'll get started on dinner, feel free to make yourself comfortable, lyubov moya." He disappeared around the corner, leaving Yuuri to his own devices. He didn't know that to do with hands, or where to sit, or what to look at.
Why am I so nervous? I've been here before. It's not like Viktor is keeping me here against my will.
A voice deep in the recesses of Yuuri's mind mockingly whispered, "Maybe not, but you'd like Viktor to hold you against a wall."
Yuuri flushed at his own thoughts, but nonetheless felt the hot curling of desire deep in his belly as the mental image of Viktor pushing him against a wall-kissing him, licking into his mouth, biting lovemarks onto the column of his neck, hands groping and touching and grasping and searching-flashed behind his eyelids.
What am I thinking oh my god what is wrong with me?
Yuuri had never thought of anyone in a remotely sexual manner but, gods, something about Viktor drove him absolutely crazy. It wasn't just his fit body or overtly good looks, either. No, Yuuri was in much too deep at this point. Lately he hadn't been fantasizing purely about sexual escapades, but also of domesticity.
He'd had more than one dream about he and Viktor living in a lush one bedroom apartment somewhere exotic (or at least, not Detroit). He'd dreamt of them adopting a puppy together, a small companion for Makkachin, a creature they could raise together. He'd dreamt of their day-to-day sickeningly sweet routine ("I'm off to work, Yuuri. I'll see you tonight," Viktor would say as he grabbed the bagged lunch Yuuri painstakingly packed for him at an ungodly early hour. He would kiss Yuuri on the lips, his mouth lingering above Yuuri's for a second longer than they should've. "I'll give you a proper thank you later.") sprinkled with so much love it made Yuuri's chest ache.
Shaking his head to rid himself of the thoughts that surely overstepped boundaries, Yuuri peeked into the kitchen only to see Viktor painstakingly chopping vegetables which took up the entirely of the counter space. With a smile on his face, Yuuri asked, "Would you like some help prepping?"
Viktor looked up from his work, the crinkle in his brow disappearing, a warm smile that reached all the way to his eyes overtaking his face. "I'll never say no to you, Katsuki Yuuri."
About an hour later, Viktor plated a beautiful three course meal and Yuuri dug into his overnight bag, pulling out a well-worn copy of Breaking Bad season 5. During their cooking-dinner conversation Yuuri had discovered that he wasn't alone in never getting around to watching the series final season. ("I watched season 4 as it was being released and by the time season 5 came out I'd moved on to something else," Yuuri said. Viktor responded with an enthusiastic, "Yes! That's what happened to be, and all my friends thought I was crazy for never finishing it.") When Yuuri mentioned it to Phichit, the Thai boy simply insisted on borrowing his copy and watching it that weekend.
"Yuuri, dinner is ready!" Viktor shouted from the living room (which consequently was also the dining room). Yuuri walked to the couch and grabbed his plate from Viktor, handing over the borrowed DVD. Viktor put it into his DVD player and took a seat next to Yuuri, their thighs touching. Yuuri's skin tingled pleasantly under his jeans at the contact.
As the opening to the show played, Yuuri took a bite from the paella. It was one of the best things he'd ever eaten-and the dish had a lot of competition since his mother was arguably the best cook in the world. "Wow, Viktor, this is amazing! Where did you learn to make this, of all things?"
Viktor smiled around his own bite of food and chewed thoughtfully. "I've spent some time in Spain, mostly Barcelona. It's gorgeous and the food is amazing-the whole town is really vibrant. It's like the entire city buzzed with energy all the time. It's amazing in Winter, especially."
"Why were you in Spain so much? Seems kind of far from Russia." Yuuri continued to eat his meal, the sounds of Breaking Bad playing in the background, nearly forgotten already.
Raising a finger to his lips, Viktor "hmm"d quietly. "I will show you!" Viktor leapt from his seat, startling Yuuri in the process. He had to struggle to keep from spilling his food everywhere. Viktor headed into his bedroom and emerged a few minutes later carrying a taped-up cardboard box. "I don't have much of it with me. I left most of it with my mother in Russia, but I took the really good stuff with me." He set down the box and started to pull at the tape. Yuuri was officially intrigued. Once the tape was off, Viktor slid the box toward Yuuri. "Go on, open it."
Curious, Yuuri set his plate down. He lifted the flaps on the box gingerly, expecting something weird to come jumping out at him or something equally absurd. Instead, when he opened the box, there lied…
A pile of medals? And is this-is this mesh and tulle part of a costume?
A few framed pictures of a young Viktor (oh my god he used to have long hair he was so beautiful my poor heart) holding up medals of varying colors-mostly gold, of course. Yuuri looked to Viktor as he reached for one of the medals that looked weirdly familiar, questioning. Viktor nodded his head.
He picked up the silver medal, running his fingers along the surface. It was a lot heavier than he was expecting. Yuuri flipped the award over in his hands and his heart did a little stuttering thing he was slowly getting used to.
There, embossed neatly on the medal, were the words Viktor Nikiforov, 2010 Winter Olympic Games.
Yuuri's head snapped up to look at Viktor, who was absently eating his food while watching the TV. "Y-you competed in the Olympics? Viktor, you won!"
Viktor chuckled lowly, eyes never leaving the screen in front of him. "I didn't win, but I was close."
"Viktor! You used to be a-" Yuuri's eyes darted back to the box and saw an obviously well-loved pair of ice skates with gold blades. "-you used to ice skate?"
Smiling, Viktor set his plate down and turned to Yuuri. "I was a figure skater for a long time, yes. But once I started going to university, I had less time to train and realized… I didn't really want to skate anymore. I didn't have a reason to."
Yuuri stared down at the medals in the box-there had to be dozens. And Viktor had said this was only a few of them? "Viktor, you were obviously so good, and you got a silver medal at the Olympics! How could you-you stopped to go to school? Why-how-you're a math major!" You had a future doing great things.
"Skating isn't something you just do, Yuuri, it's a lot of time and practice and commitment, and I felt… uninspired. You can be the best figure skater in the world, but it doesn't mean anything if you don't perform with feeling." Viktor's smile left his face, his eyes shone with regret. "It's why I lost the gold medal in the Olympics." He shook his head, picking his plate up once more. "Besides, it's all in the past now anyway. I don't usually tell people about it because it's not that big of a deal. I cut my hair and moved on."
Not that big of a deal? My boyfriend is a figure skating champion and it's not a big deal?
"I-I just. Wow, Viktor. Um, thanks for telling me. It's really…" Yuuri couldn't find the words. Thank you for telling me what is obviously a big secret. Thank you for trusting me. I'm in shock because you're a world-class athlete and I haven't been to a gym in two years. "Neat," he ended up saying because foot-in-mouth syndrome is a very serious medical condition.
"You can call me Vitya, if you'd like."
Yuuri spied Vikor from the other side of the couch. "Is that a nickname?" he asked gently.
Viktor shook his head and took another bite. "In Russian, names have certain diminutives, kind of like nicknames I suppose. They're usually reserved for people you're close to." He looked over at Yuuri with a soft smile on his face. "Actually, I'd like it if you called me Vitya."
"Okay," Yuuri breathed out, "Vitya."
The man positively glowed as he beamed at Yuuri in response to the name.
Three episodes into the TV show, Viktor heard soft snores from beside him just as a pressing weight landed roughly onto his shoulder. He looked down only to see Yuuri sleeping away, curled into Viktor's side. Viktor's chest constricted as he started at the most beautiful man on Earth.
He stood and, with little struggle, pulled Yuuri off the couch and into his arms bridal-style. He padded into the bedroom and placed Yuuri carefully on the bed. Yuuri tossed slightly in his sleep, his hands grabbing at his jeans as if trying to pull them down.
It can't be very comfortable to sleep in jeans. Shit.
Viktor internally debated whether or not he should rid Yuuri of his pants, finally deciding that he would rather Yuuri sleep comfortably. Thus, with bated breath, Viktor undid Yuuri's belt as quietly and cautiously as he could, and tugged down the denim from Yuuri's hips. He thought about also removing Yuuri's shirt, but the brunette was wearing a regular t-shirt, so he decided against it.
Smiling longingly at Yuuri's peaceful face, Viktor remembered that Yuuri told him he usually had to work weekends at his parents' restaurant, but he hadn't mentioned anything about having to work the next day. He took his lip between his teeth and chewed as he debated waking Yuuri up to ask-the last thing Viktor wanted was for Yuuri to be late again because he stayed at Viktor's place.
Mari and I exchanged numbers! I can ask her.
He pulled out his phone and began a quick message to Mari, hoping she was still up.
[sent]: Hey Mari, it's Viktor. Does Yuuri have to work tomorrow?
[received]: no, twerp got the day off when he told mom he was sleeping with you
Viktor blushed at the innuendo, but brushed it off when he recalled Yuuri telling him that the Katsukis didn't speak English very much. Must be a little slip of the tongue, maybe she doesn't understand what that implies.
[received]: spending the night at your place** sorry, a little Freudian slip
[received]: *winky face emoji*
Viktor's cheeks grew hot
[received]: *eggplant emoji* *water squirt emoji*
The texts kept coming in with rapid-fire speed. Viktor scrambled to type a response before Mari went on.
[sent]: pls stop
[sent]: nothing happened pls
[sent]: thx for letting me know goodnite
[received]: just be safe and don't hurt my baby brother, k?
[sent]: wouldn't dream of it
Three dots appeared on the conversation screen, but after a few moments no text came. Viktor re-read the texts, wondering if maybe he said something wrong. Shit!
[sent]: i mean i wouldn't dream of hurting yuuri! Not that i wouldn't dream of being safe
[sent]: I'm very careful
[received]: *thumbs up emoji*
A/N: Thank you to everyone who followed, favorited, and reviewed! It means the world to me! The rating will probably go up in the next chapter or two, and then there will probably only be a few more chapters after that. I hope y'all enjoyed! I feel like not much happened this chapter, but next time the two go to a party together and alcohol will be involved! ;)