Work Text:
“Thank you for your patronage! I hope you have a Merry Christmas!”
The cashier—a teenage girl with a sunny smile and dark hair tucked neatly into a red cap—bows at him. Yuuri mirrors her awkwardly before reaching forward to pick up the cardboard cake box by the handle, being careful not to jostle it.
Christmas Eve is nearly over, the time slowly inching towards midnight, and normally Yuuri would already be in bed cocooned in a massive pile of blankets. Yet, for some reason, Yuuri is awake and standing in the local bakery, picking up a cake order he’d forgotten he’d placed at all. The bakery is relatively small, but the white tiled floor and floor-to-ceiling glass windows make the store seem larger. There are several display cases near the counter, all filled with festive cookies and a selection of other holiday-themed desserts. The walls are lined with twinkling Christmas lights, the bulbs morphing from yellow to red to green with hypnotizing slowness, and there’s a small fake evergreen tree tucked into a corner.
With one last parting smile to the girl, Yuuri turns towards the exit before pausing. It’s late at night, and in the small time Yuuri was waiting for his cake to be packaged, it’s started to snow. There are thick flurries swirling furiously in the air, building upon the sidewalk and the city streets. It’s like a scene from a holiday card, the pure white of the snow reflecting off the multi-colored hues of the Christmas lights strung across the street lamps.
“Oh, no.”
Yuuri frowns as he looks down at the thin-cotton hoodie he’s wearing. He didn’t expect the weather to take a turn like this and he’s unprepared. It’s almost a fifteen-minute walk from the bakery to his apartment and the winter chill is especially unforgiving at this time of night. Yuuri is reluctant to head outside, especially when the warmth of the bakery is so inviting. He turns to address the cashier. “Um, excuse me. How late are you open tonight?”
“We’re open until midnight today, sir.”
Yuuri nods, glancing back out the window and considering his options. Yuuri knows nothing good will come out of trying to walk home in this kind of weather. “If you don’t mind, I might wait here until the weather passes. Could I order a coffee, please? And get a plate and a fork?”
The girl smiles and nods. Yuuri’s starting to wonder if her face hurts from having to maintain such a happy expression constantly. “Of course, sir. Please feel free to sit anywhere you’d like.”
Yuuri ends up sitting at a table tucked in the corner, directly next to the window. The glass is fogged up with condensation and Yuuri curses himself again for neglecting to bring an actual coat. He glances down at his watch. 10:33. An hour and a half until Christmas.
Tokyo truly is a city that never sleeps, Yuuri thinks as he gazes out the window. Even at this hour, and with this weather, the city streets are bustling with life. Yuuri watches as crowds of people hurry past, all bundled up in winter gear and chatting happily. The street lamps are decorated with dazzling Christmas lights and there’s some sort of festive decor outside every storefront.
“Your coffee, sir.”
Yuuri murmurs his thanks as he picks up the cup and takes a sip. The drink slides smoothly down his throat and settles nicely in his stomach, comforting and warm.
He looks at the cardboard box on the table in front of him. With careful hands, Yuuri slowly slides the top from the box and peers inside.
It’s a Christmas cake. Perfectly round and layered with white fluffy icing. It’s topped with luscious red strawberries that glisten underneath the harsh fluorescent lights of the store. It’s picturesque, exactly how one would imagine a Christmas cake should be, and far too big for one person.
Yuuri sighs as he gazes at it forlornly. “What am I going to do with this?” He mumbles to himself.
Yuuri’s musings are cut off by the bell on the front door ringing shrilly, cutting through the silence and causing him to jump. Yuuri looks up just in time to see a well-dressed man rush into the store, the tails of his long turquoise scarf flapping behind him.
He’s obviously a foreigner—with his light silver hair and sharp features. The shoulders of his trench coat are topped with snow and the man takes a moment to brush them off before slipping off his leather gloves and tucking them into his pocket.
He’s good-looking, Yuuri realizes with reddening cheeks.
The man goes up to the counter, rubbing his hands together in an attempt to warm them, and addresses the cashier in halting Japanese. “E-excuse me? Would you happen to have any…cakes? For sale?”
The girl gives him an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, sir. We don’t have any cakes available—all the ones we have now are reserved for pre-orders.”
The man sighs, exhaustion clear on his face, before running a hand through his damp hair. He mumbles to himself, this time in English. “Ah, this place too? I wonder why every place in the city is out…”
Something about the man’s dejected expression makes Yuuri’s heart clench. He doesn’t know why, but all Yuuri can think of is how much he wants to take that look away from the man’s face—to make him smile, even just a little bit. Yuuri doesn’t register he’s spoken until the words have already left his mouth, the question hanging heavily in the air in the otherwise silent store.
“Are you looking for a cake?”
The man jerks his head towards him, startled. His eyes widen when he finally notices Yuuri, seated in the corner and smiling uncomfortably.
The man turns away for a moment, clearing his throat into his fist before meeting Yuuri’s eyes hesitantly. “A-ah, I am…”
Yuuri bites his lip, considering what he’s about to offer next.
“Um, if you’d like, you can have this one…if you want.” Yuuri gestures to the cake on the table in front of him, the top still uncovered. The man’s eyes widen even further at Yuuri’s suggestion.
“I couldn’t possibly take it from you,” he tells Yuuri with a shake of the head. His cheeks are dusted pink. “I’m thankful for your generosity, but it’s really not necessary. It’s not like it’s particularly important for me to get a cake today anyway.”
Yuuri shakes his head, surprisingly forceful. Something about how the man’s expression crumpled when the girl told him they had no cakes available— at the way his eyes drooped and how his mouth softened into a sad frown—sticks in his mind. “Please, I insist. I feel like you would appreciate it more than I would.”
The man presses his lips into a thin line at his response and Yuuri’s competitive spirit sparks to life inside of him. The man must be stubborn as well, because he purses his lips and sets his shoulders firmly before speaking again, polite but unyielding.
“I don’t think it would be fair if I—“
“E-excuse me?”
Yuuri and the man look up simultaneously at the unexpected interruption. The cashier is smiling awkwardly at them, hands fumbling nervously with each other atop the counter. Yuuri flushes when he realizes that she’s been there the whole time, watching Yuuri make a fool of himself in front of this handsome man. “If you two don’t mind me suggesting, why don’t you two just share the cake? It seems like both of you are pretty adamant about having the other take it, so it’s a compromise where everyone wins!”
Yuuri looks back up at the man, somewhat bewildered at the girl’s suggestion. Judging by the taken-aback look on the man’s face, the stranger feels the same. Still, her suggestion is practical and Yuuri hesitantly speaks up. “Um…if you’re comfortable with that, I’d be happy to share with you. It really isn’t too much trouble.”
The man falters for a moment before giving him an uncertain nod. “Well, if you’re okay with it…” He approaches Yuuri’s table slowly, settling into the seat directly across from Yuuri. “Thank you for having me, then.”
Yuuri locks eyes with the cashier again, shooting her a clumsy smile with his request.“Could you please get us an extra plate then?”
The girl nods, quickly heading over to set another plate and fork on the table in front of the man before disappearing completely into the backroom. It’s just the two of them now—staring silently at one another from across the table. The only noise in the store is the faint Christmas music coming from the radio near the register. They look at each other uncertainly, too afraid to make the first move. Yuuri doesn’t know how he managed to get himself into this situation—sharing a cake with a beautiful stranger on Christmas Eve. It seems like a plot of made-for-TV holiday movie and he’s half-convinced this is all just an elaborate dream.
Finally, the other man speaks first, voice low and smooth like velvet. Yuuri suppresses a shiver as he talks.
“I’m Viktor,” the man introduces himself with a small nod. Yuuri reciprocates the gesture hesitantly. “What is your name?”
“I’m Yuuri,” he says quietly. His hands are fisted tightly into the hem of his hoodie, trembling slightly.
“Yuuri,” Viktor tests out, lips curling around his name pleasantly. He’s embarrassed at the warmth that pools in his gut just by having Viktor say his name out loud. “Yuuri, if you don’t mind me asking, your English is very good. Are you from around here?”
Yuuri nods. “I’m from Kyushu, actually. But I studied abroad in America during college,” he explains. Viktor’s mouth drops open in understanding.
“Ah, I see, I see…”
The two lapse into another uncomfortable bout of silence.
Viktor frowns, looking down at the cake between them.
“Are you sure it’s okay for me to have some?” Viktor asks. “I’m sure you didn’t intend to share with a stranger today. And I’m sure this isn’t really how you wanted to spend your Christmas Eve.”
Yuuri shakes his head, shooting him what he hopes is a reassuring smile. “It really is no trouble at all—it’s not as if I had any other plans today, anyway. Actually, I wasn’t planning on having a cake at all. I normally order one because my roommate and I like to share but he’s spending today with his boyfriend this year. I only remembered I ordered one when bakery called and told me my cake was ready for pickup.”
“Oh,” Viktor says with an understanding nod. ”That makes sense.”
Unsure of what to say next, Yuuri nods as well.
“I didn’t think it would be so hard to find a cake on Christmas,” Viktor muses out loud as he looks down at the cake. “I went to three other places before I came here and they all said they had nothing available as well.”
“Well, Christmas cake is kind of a tradition in Japan,” Yuuri explains. Viktor’s eyebrows shoot up, and he leans in interestedly as Yuuri continues. “My family and I would always have a cake for Christmas when I was growing up. I know most people do the same so I can see why it’s so difficult to find a cake today.”
Viktor hums thoughtfully. “I didn’t know Christmas was such an event in Japan,” he admits. “I’m from Russia and we don’t celebrate the holidays as much. I thought Japan was similar. That’s why I was so surprised by how festive everyone has been this holiday season. It seems like everyone is out tonight doing something.” He looks out the window, where a giggling couple in matching reindeer antlers passes by, arms linked. Yuuri watches them as they walk past, merging into the throngs of people and disappearing from their sight entirely.
Yuuri thinks for a moment on the best way to explain the holiday to Viktor. “Well, it’s not really celebrated here like it is by people in America,” Yuuri says. ”It’s not really a religious thing. Honestly, Christmas is more of a holiday for lovers, if anything. It’s mostly just couples going out on dates tonight—kind of like this, I guess.”
There’s a moment of silence as Yuuri realizes what he’s just said, face slackening as a sense of horror dawns on him. All the blood rushes to his face and Yuuri is certain he’s glowing like Rudolph’s red nose. Viktor is still smiling, though, head cocked and eyebrows lifting in interest. “For lovers, you say?” He asks.
Immediately, Yuuri flings his hands guilty in the air, waving them frantically while shaking his head. He stammers furiously, “I mean—not that I’m saying that this is a date! And we’re not lovers! I mean, not that I think you would be a bad lover—I’m sure you would be a really great lover. After all, just look at you! But, just—we just met and—and today isn’t only for lovers! I’ve spent Christmas with my parents before and we’re not lovers and I just—“
Yuuri takes one look at Viktor’s delighted expression, eyes shining with thinly veiled amusement and shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter, before groaning. He slaps his hands over his face before slumping back into his seat. “I can leave right now,” Yuuri says, voice muffled behind his palms. “Please feel free to keep the cake. I insist.”
The sudden bright laugh that escapes Viktor’s mouth, unrestrained and carefree, surprises Yuuri. He peeks out from behind his fingers to see Viktor’s flushed face, still giggling and gazing at him with what Yuuri could almost mistake for affection. “You don’t need to leave,” Viktor says. He looks at Yuuri coyly, his silvery flashes fluttering with every slow blink. “Unless, of course, you already have someone waiting for you back at home? I’d hate to steal you away from them.“ The suggestive gleam in his eyes implies otherwise. Yuuri gulps.
Yuuri straightens up, letting his hands fall to his lap. His fingers fumble clumsily together— a nervous habit Yuuri’s never been able to break. “There’s no one,” he says softly. He glances up at Viktor through idled eyes, wetting his lips. “What about you?”
Viktor shakes his head slowly, lips curving into a smile. His mouth looks like a heart, Yuuri realizes. Yuuri’s own is pounding loudly in his ears, threatening to beat directly out of his chest and onto the table in front of him. “I’m the same,” Viktor replies.
Yuuri and Viktor stare at each other for several moments, eyes locked intensely. A tension hangs in the air between them, heavy and sparking with something more. Yuuri ends up looking away first, losing his nerve. He hears something almost like a sigh from Viktor’s direction. Yuuri gestures to the cake in front of them, unable to make direct eye contact and instead staring determinedly at Viktor’s left ear.
“Shall we?” He asks.
Viktor nods before considering the cake with the frown. “How should we do this? We don’t have a knife.”
Yuuri gives him an awkward smile, rubbing the back of his neck. “If I’m going to be honest,” Yuuri admits, “before you came, I wasn’t even going to bother cutting a slice. I asked the girl for a plate but I was just planning on eating it directly from the box.”
Viktor chuckles at his response, picking up a plastic fork and brandishing it like a sword. “Well, I’d hate to disrupt your plans,” Viktor teases before scooping up a bite of fluffy yellow sponge and fresh cream icing and popping it into his mouth. His eyes widen in delight as he chews, another bright smile blossoming over his face. It’s quickly becoming Yuuri’s favorite expression on the man. It suits him so much more than the dejected look Viktor had when he came in earlier.
“Vkusno!” He exclaims, eyes sparkling. Yuuri smiles at his reaction, picking up his own fork and spearing through a glossy strawberry on top. It’s juicy and sweet, filling his mouth with tangy bursts of flavor.
“I can understand why every place is sold out if all Christmas cakes taste like this,” Viktor says around another large mouthful. There’s a smudge of icing on his upper lip and Yuuri can’t help but sneak glances at it every now and then. He takes another bite, cheeks stuffed with sweet cream and syrup-soaked strawberries.
The two go through the dessert slowly, making hesitant small talk. Bit by bit, Yuuri learns more about Viktor. He’s from Russia, but grew up in Paris with his mother when his parents divorced. He’s in Japan because the company he works for transferred him to their Tokyo office for a project. He likes poodles and he goes to dog cafes every other week and he still doesn’t understand how the subway system work despite having lived in the city for almost two months. A faint picture of who Viktor actually is begins to form from these small tidbits, and Yuuri is surprised by how much he wants to learn more.
Eventually, they begin to slow down their eating. Even with the two of them, the cake is still far too large to finish. It’s only a quarter of the way done when Yuuri places his fork down, completely stuffed and mouth tingling sweetly with sugar. Viktor is in a similar state, resting his cheek on his hand as he idly plays with a mess of crumbs using his fork.
“Viktor?” Yuuri asks. He raises his head in acknowledgment, meeting Yuuri’s eyes curiously. “I wanted to ask… if you don’t celebrate Christmas, how come you were looking for a cake?”
At this question, Viktor looks embarrassed, blushing slightly as he averts his eyes. He continues to play with his fork, smearing the icing all over the inside of the box. “It’s kind of silly…”
Yuuri levels a deadpan look at him. “Viktor, I was about to eat an entire cake by myself on Christmas Eve. I doubt that whatever you say isn’t more shameful than that.” Viktor snorts at Yuuri’s remark but still looks somewhat uncomfortable.
“Well, I wasn’t really looking for a cake for Christmas,” Viktor finally admits. “I wanted to get a cake for a birthday.”
Yuuri stills.
“A b-birthday cake?” Yuuri stammers, nearly flattening the cake with his chest as he hurriedly leans towards Viktor. “Are y-you saying that it’s your birthday today, Viktor?”
Viktor shakes his head. “Not today. More like”—he glances down at his watch—“in another forty-five minutes or so.”
Yuuri gapes at him, stunned. He blinks owlishly, unable to form a coherent sentence in response to Viktor’s revelation.
Viktor gives him a half-hearted shrug. “I don’t normally make a big deal of it,” Viktor says. “It’s just a birthday, after all. But…my friends back home would always get me a cake every year. I was just…used to having a cake. So, I thought I should maybe just get one myself this year.”
“O-oh.” Yuuri doesn’t know what to say.
Viktor laughs self-deprecatingly, averting his eyes. “See? I told you it was silly.”
“It’s not!” Yuuri bursts out, shaking his head. “It’s not silly at all!”
Yuuri can only imagine what Viktor must be going through. Viktor might act like it’s not a big deal but Yuuri knows how difficult it is to be so far away from friends and family, especially on special occasions like these. Yuuri remembers his time in America, at how lonely he felt some nights, and how desperately he tried to convince himself he wasn't. When he looks at Viktor, at his expressive blue eyes — at the underlying sadness swimming within them — he feels a kindred spirit within him.
“I did the same thing. On my birthday,” Yuuri says, much softer. At Viktor’s curious look, Yuuri pushes himself to continue. “When I was growing up, I would always have my mother’s Katsudon for my birthday. It’s a fried pork cutlet over rice with eggs. It’s my favorite dish. When I was living abroad in America, it was one of the things I missed the most on my birthday. So, every year on my birthday, I would go to some Japanese restaurant and order their Katsudon since I couldn’t be home to have my mother’s.” Yuuri chuckles wryly. “Of course, it was never as good. Once, I ended up getting food poisoning and had to spend an entire week in the bathroom.”
Viktor laughs at this and Yuuri smiles to himself, glad he could say something to make Viktor feel better.
“But I know what you mean,” Yuuri says. “It’s nice…to have something familiar. Especially when you’re so far from home.”
“It is,” Viktor agrees with a nod.
Yuuri pushes himself to speak. “I just…I just wish I knew beforehand.”
Yuuri thinks for a moment, biting his lip in deep thought. Suddenly, he springs up from his seat, an idea forming in his head.
“W-wait here!” He tells Viktor before rushing away from the table and towards the counter. The cashier is standing primly behind the register when he approaches.
“ E-excuse me! Would you happen to have any—“
Yuuri doesn’t even finish his sentence before the girl is pressing a small carton of blue birthday candles and a box of matches into Yuuri’s hands. Yuuri stares at her blankly, surprised at how the girl seemed to know exactly what he was about to ask.
“Don’t worry about it,” she tells him with a knowing smile. “It’s on the house.”
Yuuri, stupefied, can only watch as she disappears into the backroom, her long dark ponytail swishing behind her. He doesn’t dwell on it too long, though, before heading back to the table. Viktor is peering at him curiously.
“Yuuri? What is it?”
He doesn’t respond, instead opening up the carton and starting to place the blue candles in the remains of the cake they ate earlier. The cream is melted and the strawberries are strewn messily around the box, the entire cake somewhat lopsided. Still, Yuuri dutifully places candles wherever he can until he’s used them all. Viktor is staring at the cake in shock.
“Normally the candles go on before the cake’s been eaten,” Yuuri says, igniting a match and carefully lighting the candles one by one. “But, this is the best I could do on short notice.”
Viktor looks at him, stunned. “I—Yuuri…”
Yuuri offers him a smile. “Happy birthday, Viktor.”
“I—“ He swallows, before giving him a grateful smile, voice surprisingly thick. “Thank you, Yuuri.” He takes a moment and closes his eyes, thinking hard before blowing out the candles. Yuuri claps when he finishes, tendrils of smoke curling up through the air between them. Viktor opens his eyes and meets Yuuri’s gaze, expression soft.
“I hope you have a good birthday, Viktor,” Yuuri sincerely wishes.
Viktor smiles, looking bashfully up at Yuuri. “If it starts like this, I’m sure I will,” he replies.
♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡
“Thank you for letting me have the rest of the cake.”
Yuuri nods, shoving his hands deep into his hoodie pocket. “It’s no trouble at all,” Yuuri tells him. “Think of it as a birthday gift. I’m sorry that it’s already half-eaten, though.”
Viktor and Yuuri are standing outside the bakery entrance, facing each other. The streets are devoid of people now but the festive lights remain, twinkling happily like colorful stars. The snow has finally stopped falling yet an icy chill still hangs in the air. Yuuri shivers as he curls into himself, his thin hoodie doing nothing to protect him from the cold.
Viktor frowns as he takes this in. “Didn’t you bring a jacket?”
Yuuri shakes his head. “I didn’t expect it to snow,” Yuuri says. At Viktor’s concerned look, Yuuri rushes to reassure him. “Don’t worry about me! It’s not too far of a walk to my apartment from here. I’ll be fine!”
“Still…” Viktor considers him a moment before his eyebrows raise with apparent inspiration. He places the cake box on the outdoor table nearby before slipping his turquoise scarf off his neck and holding it out towards Yuuri.
“Here.”
Yuuri’s eyes widen at Viktor’s offer and he shakes his head frantically. “I couldn’t possibly—“
Viktor rolls his eyes. “It wasn’t a question,” Viktor says with a click of his tongue. He steps forward, draping the scarf around Yuuri’s neck and winding it around until the lower half of Yuuri’s face is completely hidden. “You need it more than I do. I would hate for you to get sick because you neglected to bring a jacket.”
Yuuri tries to protest. “But—“
Viktor sighs fondly, tucking the ends of the scarf into the loop. “Think of it as a Christmas gift,” Viktor tells him. He places both hands on Yuuri’s shoulder and gives him a comforting squeeze. “A cake for a scarf. An equal exchange.”
Judging by the softness of the scarf, and the Burberry tag peeking out the fringe, Yuuri knows it it’s nowhere near an equal exchange.
“Well, if you think about it, it isn’t really…” The disgruntled look on Viktor’s face makes Yuuri cut himself with a chuckle.
“But thank you, Viktor,” Yuuri says. He hides his face in the scarf. It smells like Viktor’s expensive cologne and power sugar and a scent that is undeniably Viktor, masculine yet soft, and Yuuri is ashamed by how much he enjoys it. “Really.”
Viktor smiles at him, hands still on his shoulders. “You’re welcome.”
Even with the scarf, it still is far too cold for Yuuri and he can’t hold back a small sneeze. He lets out a shuddery exhale, wrapping his arms around himself in an attempt to conserve warmth.
“We probably should head out soon…” Yuuri says, looking up at the night sky. It’s snowing again, this time softer— fluffy tufts of snow floating down in mesmerizing swirling patterns. “It’s…not good to stay out in the cold for so long.”
“Yeah…” Viktor agrees reluctantly, letting his hands drop from Yuuri’s shoulders. Yuuri nods, eyes still fixed on the starry sky above him. They seem to pale in comparison to the rainbow of lights around him. Pale in comparison to Viktor’s cerulean eyes trained solely on him, brilliant and electrifying, staring deep into Yuuri’s soul.
“Well,” Viktor says, turning to pick up the cake box. “It was nice meeting you, Yuuri.” He smiles gratefully at him. “I wouldn’t have wanted to share a Christmas cake with anyone else today.”
Yuuri returns his smile. “Have a good night, Viktor.”
“You too, Yuuri.”
Yuuri watches as Viktor walks away, his figure slowly shrinking as he gets further and further away. This entire night Yuuri’s been compelled to do things he normally would never do, and this moment is no different. “W-wait!”
Viktor turns back, eyes lighting up eagerly. “What is it, Yuuri?”
Yuuri bites his lip, unsure of what to say. He looks down at his watch. 12:04. “Happy Birthday!” He calls out. His words echo through the empty street. “Officially this time!”
Viktor glances down at his own watch. Even from this distance, Yuuri can see his customary heart-smile gracing his face. “Thank you, Yuuri” he calls back. “Merry Christmas.”
Viktor waits for a moment, eyes flickering between Yuuri and the direction he was headed, and Yuuri is blindsided by how much he doesn’t want Viktor to leave yet.
“Y-you know!” Yuuri says, voice cracking slightly. He blushes, clearing his throat before continuing. “In Japan, it’s also tradition to have fried chicken on Christmas…I know we did it a bit backwards but since we were talking about Japanese holiday traditions, I thought you should at least…celebrate properly, you know? I mean, you already had the cake so…” Yuuri winces at his own lame explanation, scrunching his eyes closed to prepare for rejection.
Viktor doesn’t reject him. Instead, he responds coyly, eyes twinkling mischievously. “Oh, well, if I’m in Japan I should probably follow the traditions, don’t you think?”
Yuuri nods determinedly. “Of course! It’s only right…after all.”
A smile creeps onto Viktor’s face. There’s one burgeoning on Yuuri’s as well. ”However, I’m still relatively new to the city. I’m not sure I would be able to find somewhere to go eat…” Viktor trails off, looking meaningfully at Yuuri from beneath silver lashes.
“Well then,” Yuuri says, squaring his shoulders and resolutely meeting Viktor’s eyes, “it would be wrong of me to simply leave you like this. Would you...like me to accompany you...?”
Viktor’s returning smile is blinding.
“I would like nothing more.”