#so this viktor is apparently 100x more fucking clueless lmao good job

[omgkatsudonplease]

The BtDS coffeeshop au, sing, goddess, where yuuri and yuuko do run a beachside seal cafe with views of the rookery, cafe of which viktor becomes a frequent patron! ♥

so robbie and nica and i were joking about cafes dedicated to the things we like and a concept for a seal cafe came up and…

The Katsudon Cafe is lit in shades of nautical blue, with wide bay windows stretching out towards the sea. Its deck has access to a small beach via a handsome silver-wood staircase, crusted with sand and aged with salt spray.

This beach is currently closed off for pupping season, so Viktor can only watch from a distance as the tide rolls in just short of the flippers of several large harbour seals and their pups, all of them sunning themselves in the sparse afternoon sunlight. His pen taps idly against the empty Moleskine on the table next to him; a light breeze stirs the pages as he contemplates the seals below.

Someone clears their throat next to him, and Viktor turns and looks up. Immediately his breath is stolen by the way the sunlight hits the soft features of the young man looking down at him. He smiles, and the young man returns it with a quirk of his rosebud lips as he sets a latte mug down in front of Viktor, his cheeks burning bright pink. 

“Thanks,” Viktor says, noticing the way the man’s seem to warm like the coffee in the mug in front of him. There’s a little Makkachin drawn into the foam; he can’t help but take a picture. “This is so cute!”

The man flushes harder, bobbing a little in thanks. His hands work for a moment before he seems to realise that Viktor can’t understand him, and he flushes harder before beating a hasty retreat across the deck into the cafe. Viktor watches him slip through the French doors with some semblance of regret, as it was probably due to his own cluelessness that the man can’t linger a little longer.

He turns his attention back to the latte. It is warm and smooth on his tongue.

Viktor returns to the cafe several times. It’s not far from his own cottage on Dean, after all, given its proximity to the little beach. The sheltered nature of the beach naturally makes it an excellent rookery for Torvill’s seal population, and so the Katsudon Cafe has earned a reputation on TripAdvisor as ‘the seal cafe’. 

All the proceeds from the cafe go to rescue and rehabilitation efforts for the Harbour Watch, so Viktor is all too glad to give them his money in return for Japanese-style pastries and coffee. The main proprietor of the shop, Yuuko Nishigori, has memorised his name by the second time he shows up, and the way he likes his coffee by the third. 

“Who’s the cute guy who helps you out?” Viktor asks after his fifth visit. Yuuko looks over at the young man, who’s got earbuds in as he wipes down some empty tables, and smiles. 

“Yuuri,” she says. “His family own the Yu-Topia resort. You know, he’s sort of a budding writer himself.”

“Really.” Viktor drums his fingers on the counter. Yuuko presses a button on the coffee grinder. The smell of fresh-ground beans fills the air. “What does he like to write?”

“I don’t really know. We bought some copies of the literary magazines he wrote for in uni, though? He had some short stories and poems in them.” She gestures towards the little reading corner with the soft armchairs and the book and magazine racks. “They’re in there somewhere.”

His latte comes, this time accompanied by a slice of tiramisu. Viktor takes a seat by the big bay window, looking out at the whitecaps and the wheeling gulls overhead, and thinks about the best ways to describe how the light caresses Yuuri’s back as he dances from table to table. 

On Viktor’s seventh visit, there’s a seal he hasn’t seen before on the beach, sunning himself a couple meters away from all the others. 

“That’s the Katsudon this cafe is named after,” one of Yuuko’s daughters tells him. Axel Nishigori is doodling with chunky crayons on the table next to his, while her sisters pore over something on a camera. 

“Yeah, he’s Torvill’s resident seal!” agrees Lutz, marking something on a piece of paper. Viktor has to marvel at today’s youth – when he was six, he barely knew how to write, let alone fill out a tide chart. “Momma says he’s twenty-three years old.”

“That’s really old for a seal,” says Viktor. 

“Yeah, he’s an old man.” Loop grins toothily at him. Viktor looks out over the deck railing again, at the seal who is now sprawled out supine against the sand, wriggling to try and get into a comfortable position. There’s a momentary pause as the seal seems to notice him watching, and then it turns on its side, wiggles a flipper, and flops back onto its back. 

Viktor’s not sure if the seal had intended to do that, but he’s fascinated all the same.

Yuuri’s there the next time Viktor visits, dutifully working behind the counter. “You’re not much of a talker, are you?” he asks, for lack of a better conversation starter. Yuuri flips the switch on the espresso machine before he shakes his head. 

“He’s mute,” Yuuko explains from where she’s rearranging the cute little seal-themed merchandising. A storm of tourists had come through earlier; Viktor had seen them crowding the deck to take pictures as he passed by the cafe with Makkachin. They’ve probably moved on into the town proper, and are tearing up the boardwalk now. Viktor’s glad he doesn’t have to deal with them. 

“Oh,” he says. “Is it a…”

“He’s been signing since childhood,” replies Yuuko. There’s a sudden loud hissing of the steam wand as Yuuri foams up the milk; Viktor can’t blame him for not wanting to hear any more talk about himself. 

He dredges up the very little knowledge he has about British Sign, and thanks Yuuri in it when the man brings it to his table. Yuuri flushes, and Viktor wishes he were an artist instead so he could capture the roses in Yuuri’s cheeks.

Viktor’s not stupid. He knows better than to flirt with someone on the job.

But he’s never seen Yuuri off the job, either. The man seems to be a ghost in this town, simultaneously everywhere, on everyone’s tongues, but not quite there.

Katsudon the seal, too, is also an engima like that.

(It takes Viktor a stupid amount of time to notice that neither Yuuri nor Katsudon have ever been seen alongside one another.)

“So, how’s Torvill treating you, Viktor?” Phichit Chulanont asks him as he comes by the cottage with boxes full of delivered groceries. Viktor helps him carry them into the kitchen, setting them on the table with a grin. Phichit snaps a picture of Makkachin lazing on the tile, and Viktor gins. 

“It’s been good,” he says. “I’ve been spending most of my time at the Katsudon Cafe, though.”

“I know,” says Phichit, because of course he does; Viktor’s only been in the town for three weeks and he already knows that Phichit Chulanont knows everything about everyone. “My best friend works there, actually! Yuuri Katsuki? Dark, brooding, and handsome?”

Viktor laughs at that. “You can say that again,” he says. Phichit giggles. 

“He and I both loved your book, The King and the Skater. Well, I mean, I liked it more than he did – he’s more of a fan of your poems, I think. Or was it one of the earlier novels? I don’t know, he’s bought like all of them.”

Viktor feels his ears heating up. “I heard he’s a writer?” he asks, mostly to deflect the attention. Phichit grins.

“Yeah, he’s really good! I first met him because he wrote my favourite Stuchai fanfic. But his original stuff is also amazing. He performed some sonnets of his at the arts festival last year, and everyone agreed that he was robbed when JJ Leroy won instead.”

Viktor looks out at the late afternoon sun glinting off the distant waves, at the distant shape of the cafe and its deck swarming with people clamouring for photos of Katsudon. Phichit seems to notice that too, as he clears his throat and grins at Viktor.

“Are you going to the dance on the boardwalk tonight?” Phichit asks suddenly. “I’m going to make sure Yuuri goes – he’s not a party person, but he’s also been locked in his room angsting about you for weeks, so –”

“Angsting about me?” echoes Viktor, wondering why his heart suddenly feels like it’s taken up too much room in his chest. Phichit laughs.

“Yeah he couldn’t work up the courage to ask if you’d be going, yourself. You know, because he knows you don’t know sign. So…”

“I’ll try my best,” says Viktor. “And I’ll be at the dance.”

Phichit’s grin widens. “I’ll be sure to let him know!”

When the sun begins to set, Viktor heads out for the boardwalk in a button down and light trousers, and comfortable shoes for dancing.

He passes by the cafe on his way down, though, and decides to stop in for some coffee. Yuuko’s husband Takeshi is manning the counter; neither Yuuko nor Yuuri are anywhere to be seen.

But when Viktor decides to go out to the deck, he notices a familiar mop of dark curls heading up the beach with something black clutched in their arms. Yuuri is clad in his swimming trunks with a towel draped over his shoulders, and even from here Viktor can make out the planes of his stomach and the sparkle of the sunlight against the water droplets coursing down his body.

Yuuri’s feet hit the staircase of the deck, and then he freezes almost comically at the sight of Viktor, a deep crimson blush staining his cheeks and moving downwards. The black thing drops out of his hands, slipping to the floor. It’s a seal pelt.

“Did you…?” Viktor asks. Yuuri hastily shakes his head. He bends down to pick it up; Viktor is greeted with the sight of a sinfully perky ass. “I thought the beach was closed to swimmers.”

Yuuri grimaces, makes a gesture Viktor interprets as ‘long story’, and starts to mount the staircase. Viktor’s stomach drops in anticipation, as his gloriously shirtless form draws closer and closer to him. 

“Are you going to the dance tonight?” he asks, stupidly, as Yuuri reaches him. The pelt sparkles in Yuuri’s grasp; the sunlight sparkles, too, in the water glistening in his hair. 

Yuuri nods. Viktor steps just a little closer. 

“Could we… maybe go together?” he asks, adding the sign for dance and pointing between the two of them for good measure.

Yuuri contemplates it, and then nods enthusiastically. the sealskin nearly dropping out of his hands in his eager assent. He clutches it harder then, and darts past him into the cafe. Viktor has to follow him quickly.

“I’ll wait for you, then?”

He gets a pause, a quick nod. The door swings as Yuuri vanishes behind the counter; moments later there’s the sound of water running from the back. Takeshi Nishgori chuckles at him.

“So, has Yuuri finally made a move?” he asks. Viktor blinks at him. 

“Sorry, finally?” he asks.

Takeshi laughs, shakes his head. “Well, it was about time,” he says. Viktor decides that the man’s being unhelpful, and orders a latte for the night. 

Yuuri comes back down just as he’s finishing up the cup, clad in a button-down with dark trousers and a set of braces, and Viktor swallows as he watches Yuuri examine his gelled-back hair in the mirror. 

“Ready to go?” he asks. Yuuri nods at him, taking his arm with a small smile. Viktor feels twenty times lighter, as he tosses a wave back at Takeshi and leads Yuuri out of the cafe, towards the boardwalk.

(It takes him a stupid amount of time to realise exactly why Yuuri would be swimming with a sealskin in his hands. But when he does, he groans in realisation, and the selkie lying next to him giggles quietly before raising himself on his elbows and kissing him.

“What the fuck,” Viktor declares. “I’m so fucking blind.”

‘I think you were distracted by other things at the time,’ Yuuri points out. 

“Don’t call me out like this,” Viktor whines, putting his face in his hands. 

Yuuri giggles, and kisses him again. The sealskin hangs on its hook by the kitchen door, next to Makkachin’s leash and Viktor’s mackintosh.)