Phichit is warm and comforting; the kind of friend that makes Yuuri feel like he doesn't need to put his personal boundaries up, the way he would with anyone else. It's the way Phichit is constantly touching people when he's speaking to them, a touch to their arm, a bump of their shoulders together, the way he leans in to make it clear that he's listening. Yuuri is surprised that he likes it at all, even more surprised by the fact that he likes it as much as he does.
They're both at different stages of their different degrees, but they get each other, from sharing the same ice rink and the same coach. There are things that Yuuri doesn't need to say for Phichit to understand; sometimes, things that Yuuri doesn't even know how to put into words, like the clawing feeling at the back of his throat when he feels his anxiety getting the better of him as a direct result of failing too many of his jumps during practice. Things that Yuuri wishes he could warn Phichit about but find that he doesn't even need to because Phichit is already there, a steady hand on his back, already coming up with distractions to help calm Yuuri back down.
At some point, Yuuri learns to feel comfortable with the easy contact he has with Phichit at all times. When they're hanging out in one of their rooms, they sit much closer than Yuuri would with any of his other friends. They lean into each other's shoulders, rest their heads together when they're tired, and before he even realises it, Yuuri begins initiating the contact instead of just accepting it when Phichit does.
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Phichit is warm and comforting; the kind of friend that makes Yuuri feel like he doesn't need to put his personal boundaries up, the way he would with anyone else. It's the way Phichit is constantly touching people when he's speaking to them, a touch to their arm, a bump of their shoulders together, the way he leans in to make it clear that he's listening. Yuuri is surprised that he likes it at all, even more surprised by the fact that he likes it as much as he does.
They're both at different stages of their different degrees, but they get each other, from sharing the same ice rink and the same coach. There are things that Yuuri doesn't need to say for Phichit to understand; sometimes, things that Yuuri doesn't even know how to put into words, like the clawing feeling at the back of his throat when he feels his anxiety getting the better of him as a direct result of failing too many of his jumps during practice. Things that Yuuri wishes he could warn Phichit about but find that he doesn't even need to because Phichit is already there, a steady hand on his back, already coming up with distractions to help calm Yuuri back down.
At some point, Yuuri learns to feel comfortable with the easy contact he has with Phichit at all times. When they're hanging out in one of their rooms, they sit much closer than Yuuri would with any of his other friends. They lean into each other's shoulders, rest their heads together when they're tired, and before he even realises it, Yuuri begins initiating the contact instead of just accepting it when Phichit does.
They're up early one morning, watching the livestream of the Trophée de France, where both Victor Nikiforov and Christophe Giacometti are competing, alternating between exhaustion and excitement. Yuuri rests his head on Phichit's shoulder, humming with contentment. Michele Crispino takes to the ice and Yuuri lets himself look away from the screen for long enough to take a long sip of his coffee. When he returns to his previous position, pressed up against Phichit's side, he feels a gentle kiss pressed into his hair.
"Phichit?"
He gets a sheepish grin in reply. "Did you not like it?"
Yuuri considers the question, mildly surprised to realise that he didn't mind at all.
He replies by leaning forward, pressing his lips to Phichit's. It earns him a soft noise of delight, before Phichit kisses back.
They miss the entirety of Michele's short program, and then Seung-gil's after that. Neither of them mind at all.