Promo Ficlet for Rare Pair Zine
In honor of Monsieur Giacometti’s birthday, please have a promo ficlet set within the confines of my @yoirarepairzine piece. I was tasked with the honor of Chris/Yuuri/Victor, and this is a little diddy explaining the Chris and Yuuri part of that equation.
Yuuri’s chin rests in his hand as he looks out the massive windows to his right. Le Jardin du Tuileries greets him, illuminated by lamps against the evening sky. There are statues scattered throughout, looming specimens immortalized in pristine, white marble.
His assignments this fall for the Grand Prix series were Skate America and the Trophée Éric Bompard, and while he normally would spend the evening after the free programs relaxing in his room, Chris insisted on showing him a little of the City of Lights.
They’re a quick stroll from the Louvre, though it’s closed for the night. The architecture looks lovely, though, and the weather is surprisingly mild.
Yuuri blinks, giving him a look. “Oh, sorry.”
“I was making sure the sole was to your liking,” Chris replies with a teasing smile.
This is Yuuri’s 20th birthday gift: a formal, Parisian dinner full of Michelin Stars. The food is really incredible, though he’ll never remember what’s in it. “Oh, no, it’s really good! The view just—“
“Yes, I know,” Chris says. “I came here last year with another friend. I try to make a point to dine here when I’m in town.”
“Makes sense,” Yuuri says. The sole is Grenoble style, sautéed in clarified butter with capers and tomatoes, served on top of a bed of wilted spinach. They began with foie gras, and Chris has ordered the corresponding wine pairings.
It’s kind of like a fancy date, Yuuri thinks as he takes a sip of his drink. “Was it a skater or someone normal?”
“Normal is relative, and yes, not just any skater,” Chris says. “You know the one.”
Yuuri freezes while cutting his fish. He feels a blush stain his cheeks. “Oh.”
The attempt at playing it cool fails. Chris smiles. “Say the word.”
“No,” Yuuri says. “It has to be right. I have to earn it.”
“You don’t, but I respect you anyways,” Chris says with a laugh.
Yuuri laughs too; he knows it’s ridiculous, but…it’s how it needs to happen.
Chris catches his eyes, holding them like a magnet for several beats. The warm, moss green is inviting and soft, and Yuuri thinks of the third man whose specter floats in the space between. He loves having Chris’s attention, but something about the thought of both makes his belly warm.
He’s years off from even shaking Victor’s hand, and Chris is here right now. Yuuri knows he’s not bad in the looks department, and Chris is more than “not bad.” He’s fairly kind (though he gets salty if he thinks he didn’t score the way he should have), and he’s funny. They’ve known each other forever.
Their entrees are cleared, and dessert arrives. “Bon anniversaire,” Chris says with a grin.
Yuuri’s had offers and never taken them. Tonight, he decides to make one of his own. “Merci,” he replies. “Are you busy after this?”
Chris pauses mid-sip of his dessert rosé. He gives Yuuri a different, hungrier smile. “I feel I may be spoken for shortly.”
“If you want,” Yuuri says as he takes a bite of his coffee tart.
Turns out, Chris does want, and Yuuri’s first time is handled with care, sensitivity, and a great deal of passion. It’s a good night, a great birthday, and the experience gets repeated every now and then when they compete together.
