victor rubbed his tires eyes and tossed his jacket over the sofa, before he decided to get himself a drink.
as he passed the phone, his hands hovered over the numbers, ready to dial the number that came to him like second nature.
"vitya?"
"mama?"
but instead, he swatted away his guilt dismissively as if it were the girl on his lap at chris's party, and decided to head upstairs and take a shower.
his mother could wait, like she had been doing for years.
he discarded his white shirt, which no longer smelt of his own cologne and with thick with creases, before the ping of his phone caught his attention.
katsudon: well
katsudon: you walked out on me
katsudon: without paying up
katsudon: unbelievable, nikiforov
victor sat down on the bed.
vnikiforov: i forgot
vnikiforov: i'm sorry
katsudon: unbelievable
vnikiforov: but hey
vnikiforov: you were right
vnikiforov: it was worth more than twenty
vnikiforov: i'll give you thirty
katsudon: oh really?
katsudon: and when exactly do you plan on paying up?
vnikiforov: come over
katsudon: um no
vnikiforov: why not?
katsudon: i don't even know you wtf
katsudon: just give it to chris
vnikiforov: why not come over
katsudon: are you a murderer?
katsudon: or just lonely af
vnikiforov: the latter
katsudon: huh
katsudon: people don't "order" me
katsudon: i don't come to you
katsudon: you come to me
vnikiforov: i don't want sex, yuri
katsudon: sorry
katsudon: after last night you can see why i would presume otherwise
katsudon: so what do you want?
vnikiforov: i want to see you
katsudon: that's nice
katsudon: why
katsudon: you don't know a thing about me
victor realised that he was right.
vnikiforov: let's change that then
YOU ARE READING
M.O.N.E.Y • viktuuri ✔️
Fanfictionin which fame isn't kind to teenage celebrity victor nikiforov, and he pays a dark haired boy to make him feel less lonely. copyright @beautifulpyscho 2017 •lowercase intended• snapchat fic//dialogue//texting and a shit load of the 1975 trigger warn...
