M.O.N.E.Y • viktuuri ✔️

2.| nicotine

DO RE MI
by blackbear

victor was surprised to have woken up on that same grey sofa at 1 the next day, and not in an unfamiliar bed with an unfamiliar person. he sat up, jj gone and having left a dent in the sofa pillow next to victor. chris was out on his wide balcony, smoking a cigarette and staring down at tiny streets below, with miniature people walking about between cars and buskers.

"you're up early," he teased victor, who slid back the glass door to stand next to chris, leaning over the side of the balcony to stare down from a sickening height.

"lovely up here, isn't it?" chris said, his accent thick and a lit cigarette glowing between his fingers. victor didn't bother to nod, because his head felt as if stuffed with cotton balls and was thumping.

"enjoy the party?" chris pressed, earning a hum of agreement from the russian man standing beside him in a half-untucked white shirt and black trousers that were creased all the way down to his ankles.

"i'm going to call someone in to clean it up. can't be fucking bothered myself. i mean would you look at the state of this place? it would be better for me if we were going to barcelona today, not in six months or however long it is. then i could just go to my nice, clean flat there. the weather is nicer in spain than it is here in japan today. why the fuck is it raining?"

victor hadn't been listening, bust had been watching a kid in a yellow jacket trek down the sidewalk below them.

"who was that boy you were talking to last night?" he asked chris, whose brow creased in confusion.

"there were a few boys there, victor," he laughed, and took a drag. "and girls too. why? you going to give me a long lecture about how i shouldn't cheat and should be a better boyfriend, huh? because what he doesn't know when he's away in london can't hurt him."

victor waited for chris to finish, to lazy from coming down to argue.

"i meant the boy...um...in like a white top tied at the waist, and black jeans. you were talking to him in the kitchen, i think it was."

"ah," chris smirked. "you're talking about yuri."

"yuri."

"yes. that's his name," victor replied, before taking the cigarette from chris's hand and taking a drag to wake himself up. "you know him well?"

"eh," chris said, shrugging, "quite. haven't seen him for a while, but i know that he lives someplace in japan that i can't remember. why you asking? you like him?"

victor laughed.

"i don't know him. but he seemed kind of fun, i guess. i don't fucking know, chris, i'm just making conversation."

"yuri katsuki. that's his name. katsuki."

"seemed pretty flirty with you, didn't it? tried it with me, too."

chris took back the stub of a cigarette from victor and pulled out his lighter, the thin drizzle of rain having wet it.

"i didn't do anything with him, if that's what you're trying to say. i love my boyfriend, victor, and i listened to what you told me after jj's party. someone will get hurt if i carry on."

victor scratched at the back of his neck and sniffed, which caught chris's attention. he wondered if his nose was going to bleed. again.

"jesus christ, how much did you take last night, nikiforov?"

victor shrugged. the kid on the sidewalk crossed the street.

"so," victor continued, clearing his throat, "what was the deal with that katsuki kid? is he...like..."

"a prostitute? is that what you're trying to say?" chris finished off for him, and victor was lost for words.

"no. well. no. i just meant - "

chris scratched at the back of his neck, and messed around with his hair.

"i mean," he went on, "he's just out of business in skating right now after the fall - "

"i fucking knew that he skated. i knew it. what fall? chris, was he like famous? which competitions? explain."

"why are you so interested, victor? got a crush?"

"no. fuck no."

"why? what's wrong with him?"

"he's not my type."

"you mean he's a prostitute?"

"no. i'm just making fucking conversation is all. i talked to him for like a second. fucking hell - "

"damn, your comedowns must be bad. you always crash like this."

their conversation grounded to a halt, and victor could feel his silver hair getting damp in the spitting rain as chris's cigarette grew shorter and shorter. he coughed, and stared looking for the kid in the yellow coat down below. he couldn't find him.

"i'm holding another one," chris said dryly, flicking his cigarette off of the balcony.

"you are?" victor asked, still looking down at the streets below. "christ, you must be missing your boyfriend. either that or you want to fuck someone else, i'm guessing."

chris shot him a look.

"i told you," he said, and his voice had an edge to it. "nothing happened with me and yuri katsuki."

victor shrugged.

"i don't give a fuck if it did or didn't," came his reply, and he stretched his back and headed inside chris's apartment again. "you got painkillers?"

chris chuckled.

"bathroom. you take too much, y'know," he then called after victor down the hall. "you'll kill yourself some day, you know that?"

victor laughed as he popped pills into his hand and swallowed them down with the rest of a bottle of wine left on the sink. it was red; cold.

"then clearly," he said, walking back down the hall with the bottle in hand, "i  haven't taken enough yet, have i? i'm still alive, right?"

chris rolled his eyes, and victor smirked and swallowed down the last of the wine.

"when's your party?" he felt he should ask, because he wasn't leek on going back to his big, white, empty, expensive  house in japan he'd bought "just for the hell of it." chris leant back against the glass sliding door that lead onto the balcony, who's tiles were slick wth rain now.

"next week, i'm thinking. i've got nothing better to do. and like you said, masumi isn't here to tell me better. it's not like you to turn down drugs and "meaningless sex," huh?"

victor gave a short, hollow laugh. both of those things bored the hell out of him; they didn't have any taste, they were just there. he wanted to taste something, so he lit up the last cigarette he found in his back pocket.

"you know me," he said, a little wearily, and sighed cigarette smoke and red wine.

"you'll be there?"

victor hummed in response, although he was already getting bored at the thought of pulsating music, bare legs and drugged-up rich kids in all their glory.