makkachin padded down the wooden stairs of victor's house in japan; ridiculously expensive and bought purely because he could do so. she stood by the door, wagging her tail hopefully and pink tongue killing out of her mouth.
shit.
victor hesitated by the door, heart rate picking up as if he were on a high, chest constructing as if he were about to skate in front of a cheering crowd.
why do you care?
"hi," yuri katsuki said, standing on victor's doorstep and giving a small, almost awkward smile. victor's turquoise eyes immediately skimmed over yuri's knee-length black coat, high ripped jeans and white shirt that read UGH!
"i love that song," victor mused, and yuri looked down at his own t-shirt, giving a soft, adorable laugh when it wasn't needed.
"same."
victor bit at his nail, and thought of the cigarette packet in his pocket.
"damn it, yuri, i left your money upstairs," victor laughed, groaning and slapping a hand to his forehead.
"you have a habit of forgetting to pay me," yuri teased, but in a more timid voice than victor had heard the night before. and the night before that.
the boy on his doorstep seemed almost self-conscious.
"come in then, katsudon, and i'll run and get that fucking money for you."
victor scrunched up the ten pound and twenty pound notes that were held in his hands and stuffed them into his pocket, before opening the door to let yuri katsuki inside.
what are you playing at?
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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...
