I.

Isabella is really Phichit's friend, but Yuuri receives an invitation (to which he doesn't RSVP) and then Phichit asks him to be his plus one to the wedding. In response, Yuuri buys a new suit, finds an old, but comfortable set of presentable dress shoes, and slicks his hair back.

The new suit comes with a free tie, and Phichit sounds only a little mortified when Yuuri tells him, but he still (despite his griping about the matching pocket square) lets Yuuri wear it because the material is soft and silky and infinitely better than any other tie Yuuri owns (and also because Yuuri accepts to wear contact lenses instead of his glasses).

They're broke recent graduates, and Isabella planned a Spring wedding, so between the two of them, they buy the least expensive item in the registry: A set of gourmet wooden spoons made by some famous chef obsessed with butter and prosciutto. It's ironic, considering Isabella can't cook, but Yuuri still remembers how sweet and gracious she had been in college and decides to splurge because it's her day and he's pretty sure Isabella once treated him to pizza when he was pulling an all-nighter with Phichit and he's always felt he owed her.

(That and (Yuuri hates himself for even thinking it) she's marrying the most annoying man in the world.

But he's rich and loves her more than anyone, except her parents,Phichit reminds him, like that (the rich part) makes it all better.)

II.

Viktor is not J.J.'s friend.

(He almost considers getting that stitched on a handkerchief and going around the event blowing his nose.)

But he has an invitation to J.J.'s wedding, and their parents were old business contacts, so when his mother calls him to croon 'But Vitya,' Viktor decides he'll go, but he won't like it. And, he'll probably do his best to get drunk on vodka. Then his mother says 'But Vitya, we already said you'd bedelightedto be one of the groomsmen,' and he almost considers faking his own kidnapping, only he's already used that excuse to get out of the last family reunion (and go on a cross-European road trip with Chris and his expensive pink convertible), so he really doubts it'll work again. There's only so many times his mother will laugh indulgently and say 'Oh darling, don't stray too long!' and inject a cool half million into his bank account before forcing him to get a band of bodyguards.

(He returned the money, of course. Once he wasn't kidnapped anymore. Except then his father had said something that made Viktor almost too sure that his mother hadn't told his father he hadn't really been kidnapped, and his father maybe thinks Viktor consensually slutted his way off the hook (thanks to some photos that made it into a grocery store tabloid) and with money intact, even if dignity destroyed. It's a good thing his father knows next to nothing about European male models. That, and worrying about Viktor's public relations, he leaves to Viktor's Uncle Yakov, much like he used to leave groundingsto his Uncle Yakov's wife (because Viktor's parents were suckers for a wibbly bottom lip).

But at least his father had brought out the expensive $2500 bottle of triple malt scotch whiskey as they didn't talk about the not-kidnapping and what-did-or-did-not-happen (definitely what didn't happen), and Viktor's father had been drunk enough to start showering him with praise and stories of his baby days and good-natured ribbing, and he had told Viktor all about his fatherly pride and trust in Viktor, because Viktor is "a good man" (even if Viktor thinks he's not). It's a good reminder of why Viktor loves his father.

His father loves him so unconditionally, even when he does stupid things. No one else, except his mother, loves him so perfectly.)

Apparently, J.J. didn't have anyone other than his parents' friends' children to fill in as his groomsmen, so Viktor's youngest sibling Yuri gets pulled into the act, too. His sister Mila doesn't have to participate in the wedding, but she (for some reason, or because she likes J.J. as a person) still decides to go.

III.

Yuri complains the entire time.

(Really, the entire time.)

Viktor doesn't blame him. He'd probably complain, too, if he had to have all the formality and none of the fun, but Yuri is too young to drink, much less go through the strange protocol of J.J.'s stag party (or parties). But, again, this is J.J., so Viktor reminds his brother that none of this will be fun for anyone, least of all Chris, whose been made best man (only because Viktor refused and gave J.J. his best ice-queen-glare on top of an already almost insulting resting-bitch-face to get his point across).

(To be fair, Viktor had already accepted to give a toast to J.J. and Isabella's happiness while wearing his finest Armani in black. J.J. can't ask for more. That'd just be greedy. But he does ask for more, which leads to Viktor and J.J.'s other groomsmen to put together a groom's dance for the reception.)

Yuri's complaining only lasts until the Altin family arrives at the resort J.J.'s family has rented for the week to welcome all their guests and introduce them to Isabella. It's a strange affair because they all grew up going to the same country club. That's how Isabella met J.J. But J.J.'s parents are slightly oblivious, albeit sweet, and Isabella's family has less money than they do, so they naturally assume that she had spent most summers living in the smaller houses on the far side of the lake, or a different world from the Leroys.

Isabella's guests, though, don't all come from the country club. She has actual friends and they, like normal people, are coming just a day before the wedding. There's no pretense or strange expectation from Isabella's family that people that have never spent more than a dinner discussing potential investments should suddenly spend an entire week rubbing elbows at the pool while drinking funny colored cocktails. Viktor instantly loves them and spends all his time with them as opposed to the Leroys.

Yuuri, naturally, spends all his time with his friend – a teen DJ spinning records in Europe while his parents keep piling on the cash in Kazakhstan. Strangely enough, Yuri and Otabek, the Altin boy, don't talk, not with their mouths;instead, Viktor is almost certain they text each other for everything. They sit together by the pool, shades on their faces under the comfort of a large umbrella as they type on tiny phone screens. Sometimes they'll chuckle and look up, and then return to their phones. It's a cacophony of pings.

"Viktor, are you listening?" Chris kicks some water his way, and he shakes his head, pushing his platinum hair back.

"Yeah, sure," he lies, "We'll pick up J.J. at eight, pop open a bottle of Cristal, or whatever is in the limo, and keep him out until midnight or something."

"No strippers," Chris repeats, dipping his feet in the pool again as he scrolls through the e-mail application in his phone. Viktor had also received a copy of the instructions written by J.J. on what he expects his stag party to be like to truly encapsulate the whole concept of J.J. Style. Viktor will never understand how people ever spend any money on any piece of clothing that has a label that reads J.J. Style, but he's too busy designing his own brand (and modeling it) to really care.

"Ew," Viktor waves him off in disgust, pulling himself up to rest his arms on the edge of the pool. Water droplets cling to his muscles. "I said I would take him out, not party with him. I don't even go to a strip club with you, and I like you. I've even eaten at a McDonalds for you."

"Oh stop it, you loved every minute of stuffing your mouth with that juicy commercial meat," Chris almost shimmies with each word. And Viktor laughs, just laughs and jumps up to grab his phone.

"Want me to take your picture?"

"If you insist," Chris smiles, jumping back into the pool for a few more poses before they have to pretend to be groomsmen.

IV.

Viktor sees the bride's half of the church and feels almost second-hand embarrassment. Again, he sees actual people, the type that want to be there and made the effort out of the proverbial goodness of their friendly or familial hearts. They're smiling vividly, drinking in every moment of the ceremony and the beauty of the bride. Isabella really is beautiful, and Viktor has to admit that the love J.J. has for her might slowly become his most redeeming quality.

Meanwhile, Viktor tunes out the entire ordeal, eyes glazing as he bumps shoulders with Chris to stay awake.

Next to him, Yuri has a hand stuck in his pocket. Viktor is pretty sure he's texting Otabek – they do have a habit of texting in emoticons.

V.

Yuuri always cries at weddings.

When Yuuko got married, he cried from the moment she started walking down the aisle and only took a short break while giving a speech at the reception. He picked up again, with a box of tissues safely tucked into the crook of his arm, when it was time to wave the new Nishigori family goodbye for their honeymoon. He'd then proceeded to get blackout drunk. It was almost a tradition by now.

Phichit hands him tissues for the duration of Isabella's ceremony. Thankfully, Isabella isn't a close friend. He finds the tears stop after a few minutes; by then, Phichit has started on the waterworks and can't get himself to stop.

Yururi is almost too busy to pay attention, admiring how everyone in the wedding party looks absolutely stunning in their crisp suits and long peach dresses. Standing one man away from the groom is a platinum blonde that Yuuri keeps admiring. He's pretty sure he's seen him in some magazine or other, just flipping through while in some doctor's waiting room. Leave it to J.J. to have models as his groomsmen.

"Okay, everyone gather around for the first bouquet toss!" Isabella smiles brightly, calling everyone to the center area where the reception is taking place. There are these beautiful long tables organized in verticals leading the viewer's eye towards the white stage filled with flowers.

Yuuri is too busy trying to get lost in the shuffle to notice when someone is getting a little too close.

"Come on, Viktor, in there with the rest!" Isabella pushes one of the groomsmen, who accidentally bumps into Yuuri.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" he turns almost effortlessly, holding onto Yuuri's arm. And Yuuri forgets how to breathe for a moment. "I didn't step on you, did I?"

"Uh, no, it's fine," he replies, blinking before pulling his arm away to sneak into the center of the group. The stranger – Viktor – watches him with something akin to sympathy, like he's just too used to people being hit in the stomach by his beauty on the regular, and who knows, maybe that's the case. He is gorgeous.

"Okay, everyone ready?" Isabella yells out over her shoulder to the sea of people, and then the bouquet goes flying high over her head. Right into Yuuri's hands.

Yuuri can faintly hear Phichit crowing in the background. He looks down at the bouquet in his hands, just on the edge of disbelieving.

"Yay, Yuuri!" Isabella claps, almost jumping in her heels. "Next wedding's yours!"

When he looks up to give her a shy smile, Yuuri's eyes fall on Viktor again. He keeps replaying the name in his head. It's so fitting, almost aristocratic. Viktor is laughing, looking like he's enjoying everyone's reactions. Yuuri swears he almost hears him say: "Wow." But for all he knows, he could be making up the sound of his voice in the whistle and buzzing excitement of the crowd all around him.

VI.

"She told me she was gonna go full Beyoncé!" Phichit jumps up and down next to Yuuri. He's holding his phone tightly, just waiting to hit record. Yuuri tries to hold onto his arm to anchor him in place. Isabella made sure that they were in the front row, and Yuuri doesn't want to take more space than necessary with everyone standing around doubled up in a circle. He's surprised by how attached she has been to both of them, even asking Yuuri to help her make sure her garter was on correctly backstage.

J.J. is sitting smug on a chair in front of an empty area before the stage. He keeps flashing smiles everywhere.

Apparently, Isabella has a second bouquet because she's using it in her dance number. Sometimes Yuuri forgets that Isabella is a trained dancer and, despite her money, she's doing just fine working as a choreographer. Her bridesmaids are all obviously dancers, looking amazing in tan leotards with short, ruffled skirts, but Isabella – as she should, as the bride – rivals them all in a white leotard with a short skirt, all covered in expensive lace. She throws the bouquet to Phichit. There's no pretense as to who is supposed to catch it, and Phichit squeals, holding it tight to his chest as Isabella begins her dance number – an impressive combination of Lil' Mo's 4ever (I been your superwoman for so long, ready to be your wife), Beyoncé's Upgrade U (Let me upgradeyou,) and End of Time (Promise not to let you go, say you'll never let me go, say you'll never let me go).

She dabs, shimmies, and whirls expertly, hips shaking like a pendulum the entire time. When the show is over, everyone's clapping, watching as Isabella lifts a delicate foot and sets her six-inch heel between J.J.'s spread legs on the chair. The garter has everyone's attention, shining with its own sparkles against the pale, shimmering stockings encasing her long legs.

J.J. wastes no time in pulling the garter off. Yuuri is grateful that he does it with his fingers. Maybe small miracles do exist. When J.J. throws it, a few of the men in the vicinity try to make a playful jump for the garter, but it misses them all and lands in someone's hands. The whole crowd explodes into whoops and ow-ow and whistles, and Yuuri laughs when people part in waves to show J.J. and Isabella that one of the groomsmen has caught the garter.

"Viktor!" J.J. laughs, clapping his hands.

Viktor twirls the garter on his index finger before pocketing it and taking a bow.

VII.

"Here, Yuuri!" Phichit yells as he hands Yuuri a glass of champagne. Yuuri knows Phichit is well into his third, but this will only be Yuuri's first glass.

Isabella is sticking to them like glue, which means everyone's eyes are on them. Yuuri downs the glass to keep his nerves low, and Phichit only whoops, grabbing another one as a waiter passes by and leaving it firmly planted in Yuuri's hands.

J.J.'s groomsmen have taken over the dancefloor for what everyone assumes will be the groom's dance. The platinum-haired could-be model – Viktor, Viktor, Yuuri keeps having to remind himself to think of him as a person, instead of an abstraction, is at the helm of the group. It seems that Isabella and J.J.'s guests include a lot of people that all know each other very well.

"We all grew up at the country club," Isabella explains, and Yuuri suddenly begins to understand why she must be standing close to them. Phichit and Yuuri are her college friends. She displays them and introduces them proudly. This is the girl that left and went to Detroit to dance. This is the girl that made friends, normalfriends. Yuuri is touched whenever Isabella tells people: These are my friends, Yuuri and Phichit.

A red-head in a gorgeous, form-fitting purple dress bumps into them, reaching for Isabella's arm as she yells: "That's my big brother! Udachi, Viktor! Udachi!"

A bunch of other young women follow suit. Apparently, Yuuri notes as he drinks his champagne, Viktor is very popular.

Yuuri also notices that the red-head looks no older than twenty. She's probably younger than that. A young, blonde teen joins her, scoffing as he cups his hands around his mouth and yells: "Oi, old man, don't shame the family name! Or else, I'm not related to you anymore!"

Viktor flinches, looking almost embarrassed as he waves their way, and then falls back into formation. Yuuri is surprised when their eyes meet again, and Viktor smiles at him, giving him a playful wink. The red-head next to Isabella stretches her neck around the bride to get a good look at Yuuri, who can feel her staring. His cheeks heat up as he pretends not to notice and downs his glass.

"Hi, I'm Mila! I think my brother likes you!" she yells over the noise of the crowd as the familiar base of N*Sync's classic It's Tearing Up My Heart When I'm With Youplays in the background, and the groomsmen break into the familiar shuffle and spin. It ends with Viktor pointing right towards J.J., who comes swaggering to stand in front of the group for a perfect rendition of the It's Gonna Be Me, but it seems the group is far more entertained by the groomsmen. A tall green-eyed man – the best man, it seems – brings them all into a seamless transition into Pop, just oozing sex as he takes some artistic liberties to show-off (with a playful slap) his ass. The claps recommence again. People start screaming when Viktor brings the group into I Want You Back. J.J. might as well be an after-thought, and Yuuri almost feels bad, if it wasn't because Isabella is clapping excitedly.

"Take the jacket off!" she yells, and Viktor seems more than happy to oblige, as he throws it her way. "I had the biggest crush on Viktor when I was little!" she yells at Phichit, who simply whistles his approval (saying, "I can see why!").

Yuuri decides maybe now's a good time to squirrel away. It looks like the dance is coming to an end, and Mila is already trying to shuffle her way towards Yuuri. The sound of Bye Bye Bye chases him away as he goes in search of more alcohol.

(Phichit later tells him that Viktor pulled his sister to the dancefloor to dance to Uptown Funk, and Yuuri feels something soft and happy blossom in his chest because he's a little brother himself, one who has always looked up to his big sister, probably much the way Mila seems to idolize Viktor. It's sweet that Viktor would dance with his sister instead of pulling some pretty girl to the dancefloor. After all, there were plenty of women (and men) impressed by his moves.)

VIII.

Phichit is on the verge of drunk and Yuuri is already beginning to feel a little tipsy when Viktor finds them.

"Hey, bouquet catchers," he smiles, bringing out the garter from his pocket. "Figured I'd introduce myself. I'm Viktor. Viktor Nikiforov."

"I'm Phichit!" Phichit yells, practically throwing his body towards Viktor in his enthusiasm. He's obviously had too much to drink and his shirt buttons are starting to come undone. Yuuri is beginning to suspect Phichit started losing clothing layers the moment Isabella nabbed him as a dance partner an hour ago. Viktor eyes Yuuri expectantly. It makes sense: People usually give out their names when asked. Yuuri is not people, not when he's drunk and embarrassed. Drinking should loosen him up, but, more importantly, holding a glass gives his hands something to do and sipping keeps his mouth occupied.

Yuuri stays quiet, pretending that he's still sipping, until he notices that his glass is empty – only because Viktor takes it from his hand gently and grabs another one from a passing waiter.

"Thanks," Yuuri tells him, watching him through long, dark lashes and going back to nursing his glass.

"So," Viktor speaks to Yuuri, even as he keeps close tabs on Phichit as well. Phichit is looking closer to jumping back on the bar and stripping. (Yuuri thought they were over that phase 20 minutes ago! This had happened at the last wedding they had attended, too.) "This is an interesting dilemma because there's two of you. Usually, the garter catcher and the bouquet catcher dance together, or, you know, spend some time together having been thoroughly embarrassed and tapped as the next to get married."

Yuuri almost chokes.

"Not to each other," Viktor backtracks, embarrassed, and Yuuri notices the pink dusting his cheeks. He must be on the verge of tipsy, too. Viktor curses at himself in a foreign language just as Yuuri is beginning to turn his attention back to the bar. Is that Russian? Yuuri has always heard that Russians have a greater ability to withstand their alcohol, so maybe Viktor is fine, or maybe Yuuri has his potential ancestry all wrong. "I mean, would you like to dance?"

"Dance?" Yuuri repeats now more than a little hazy.

"I'd love to!" Phichit laughs, grabbing Yuuri's hand to pull him into the mob of people grinding on the dancefloor.

Maybe there's something to the idea of two bouquets. The two people that catch the bouquets can dirty dance with each other on the dancefloor, no need for a garter catcher at all.

(And that's how Yuuri ends up grinding his way on the dancefloor against his best friend, holding hands with Phichit as they sway to the music, until Isabella finds them, and then they give her a show while she sits on a chair and watches them practically strip. Phichit more so than Yuuri, though.

At least Yuuri still had his pants and shirt on at the end. He was just a little disheveled.)

IX.

Viktor groans, looking towards Chris dejectedly. He has somehow ended up sandwiched between Phichit and his gorgeous, nameless friend, whose hips have decided to take Shakira at face value and not lie.

"You look like you're having a little too much fun there," Chris laughs at him, snapping a few pictures.

"I think they're trying to kill me," Viktor yells back, eyes almost rolling back when Yuuri's hips grind a little harder. It's at that moment that Phichit seems to lose interest in dancing and in groping Viktor's ass. Phichit starts swaying on his own as he begins to put together a flower crown from his bouquet.

"Aww, that's so pretty, Phichit," Yuuri has turned around now, wrapping his arms around Viktor's neck to lift himself up and clinch tightly to Viktor's waist with his legs. Yuuri looks at his friend's new project from the safety of Viktor's shoulder. Soft fingers run through Viktor's hair as warm amber eyes caress his face. He can almost feel the touch. "Oh Vicchan, you're going to look so beautiful with a crown. You already look like a prince."

Viktor looks over Yuuri's head at Chris. He realizes almost too late that the only sound coming out of his mouth is a steady, dying shriek. It's a wholly dying sound, like a trickle of noise getting lost in the background, somewhere between the song's trumpets. Taking zero pity on Viktor's (enjoyable) misery, Chris laughs, resting a hand on Yuuri's lower back when he notices his thighs are about to lose the leverage they've gained on Viktor's waist.

"Hm, aim a little lower," Chris schools him. Before long, Yuuri's thighs – all hard and lean muscle – are wrapped around Viktor's waist, his heels locking him into position. "Well, Viktor, I must go! But enjoy the night!"

"Chris!" Viktor hisses, feeling a weight drop on his head. A flower crown. Phichit is back to hugging them both. "Chris, don't leave me!"

"What's wrong, Vicchan?" Yuuri presses their foreheads together.

"What's your name?" Viktor asks for the hundredth time. Somewhere around number forty, the stranger in his arms had laughed so prettily, he thought he heard wedding bells. By the eightieth time, he knew he was thoroughly in love. Right now, he feels on the verge of thoroughly fucked (on the dancefloor, literally).

(It had all started out so innocently, too.

Viktor really had tried to keep it classy.)

"I'm Yuuri."

"Yuri?" Viktor blinks. "Huh. My brother's name is Yuri."

"Not Yuri," Yuuri corrects him, licking his lips as he teaches him to elongate the u. Viktor stays still as he feels the gentle brush of lips against his own. "Yuuri. Yuuri. And you're Vicchan!"

"Vicchan. I don't know what that means, but you really seem to like calling me that, and I like that you like calling me that. You can call me whatever you want—"

"Yuuri, say it," Yuuri lets his thumb brush over Viktor's bottom lip.

"Yuuri," Viktor repeats, and it seems it's right, because the attempt earns him a lovely hip roll that almost sends him falling back. He's grateful for Phichit's weight against his back. "Yuuri, I think, I think I'm going to need to put you down in a moment before I potentially embarrass myself. But I really, really want to continue this, when we're sober. Can I have your phone number?"

"Sorry, Vicchan. But I'm too drunk to rationally hand out my phone number."

(And, just like that, Viktor thought he heard his heart smash on the floor.

Really, it was J.J., who had dropped his champagne glass in his attempt to pull Viktor away from his two dance partners to take one last photo with Isabella before it was time to bid the groom and bride farewell on their honeymoon.

"Bye Vicchan!" Yuuri waved at him with a sweet, drunk smile.

Viktor pouted as he was pulled away by the cuff. "Bye, Yuuri…")

X.

A few weeks later, Yuuri is typing in his apartment's living room when he hears things crashing in Phichit's bedroom. It's readily followed by Phichit jumping out of his room and rolling into the living room. He bounces excitedly on the sofa, waving his phone in front of Yuuri's face: "Look what Isabella just sent me!"

Yuuri takes the phone from Phichit, gasping when he sees the screenshot of a Facebook thread about a photo of him. He hadn't been tagged, thankfully, but it slowly dawns on him that it's not because the uploader was being kind. Chris Giacometti just didn't have him as a Facebook friend.

In the picture, Yuuri is wrapped tightly around a person tagged as Viktor Nikiforov, legs fully off the ground and locked around a tapered waist. Their foreheads are pressed together. Anyone that didn't know they had both been drunk might have mistaken the haze in their eyes for sweet, indiscriminate, gentle, almost sleepy affection.

Phichit was also in the picture, arms wrapped tightly around them both and practically dozing off against Viktor's back.

Chris Giacometti

We're still looking for Viktor Nikiforov's Cinderella. If found, please PM.

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Mila Nikiforov That's my future brother-in-law!

Viktor Nikiforov That's my future husband! Someone please tell me who is that boy(?)! He said his name was Yuuri. Anyone with info is eligible for a monetary reward.

Chris GiacomettiIDK. I asked J.J. He said he knew the one hugging your back, but not your bae.

Mila NikiforovOoh let's ask Isabella Leroy! Izzy, Viktor is looking for this cute Japanese boy that danced with him at your wedding. Help us before someone cons my brother out of $100,000? Thanks!

Yuri Nikiforov Is that a tent in your pants? Gross! TAKE THIS DOWN!

"He's offering $100,000 to find you?" Phichit gasped, "Oh my god! Isabella says he's totally for reals. Yuuri! Yuuri, you have to talk to him!"

Yuuri simply squeaked, turning a bright shade of red as he took the phone back and stared at the picture. He had a feeling this was only going to snowball if he didn't take control of the situation and fast.

TBC - Potentially