M.O.N.E.Y • viktuuri ✔️

45.| overdose pt.ii

yuri watched as jj swiped the key and pushed open the door of his hotel room, which smelt of cinnamon and string cologne. yuri could see the roll of black material on his dresser, and the pain started to subside a little at the thought of flying up and away from every fucking thing.

from akio.
from celestino.
from his mother.
from mari.
from his father.
from guest bedrooms.
from late nights.
from unwanted hands.

from victor nikiforov.

jj gestured for yuri to sit down on the bed, and yuri shut the door behind him and did just that. he was all dressed up like celestino wanted him to be for these nights with jj leroy; tight blue jeans and a baby pink lace-up crop too to show off the muscles stretched tight up his torso from years of wasted skating practice.

you're a failure, yuri.
akio was right.
you're just a fucking whore.

"you alright to do it yourself now, yuri?" jj said with a smile, and wrapped the roll for him. "i've got to ask emil about where he gets his hits from. mine aren't so good anymore. the dealer had started giving me less and it's pissing me off. you'll be ok? you know what to do, yuri, don't you."

yuri look down at the thin needle lying so close to him and gave jj a slight nod.

god, did he want to forget.

"ok then," jj smiled, and grabbed his jacket. "you go ahead without me, baby. i'll be back soon and i'll be right up there with you. ten minutes only, yuri, ok?"

yuri still flinched when he heard "baby," and he sighed as he watched jj leroy shut the door behind him.

lyuri picked up the needle, and jj's lighter from the end of the bed.

god, did he want to forget.

yuri did exactly as jj had done for him the past three nights; two in a row, except that yuri suffered so much without it the day before that he couldn't even get up to get more from jj. the next day - that day - he just ached for it, and ached to forget.
only when he had filled the syringe did yuri hesitate; he knew that he'd forget, and that he'd fly, but then came the comedown, and then he'd remember.

he'd remember his father's voice.

"no son of mine is fucking gay, yuri."

he'd remember akio's voice.

"i'm not sticking around with a fucking disappointment, yuri."

he'd remember victor nikiforov's voice.

"a fucking whore? because that's all you are, yuri. a fucking whore. using your body for sex, huh? do you even know what love is, yuri? jesus, yuri, you sell yourself for money. its fucking disgusting."

yuri pressed his eyes shut, and scratched at the back of his neck, at the roots of dark, dark hair, and pushed the   newly washed tendrils away from his eyes; he was all dressed up, and was all made up, ready to make more money for celestino, only the smallest cut of which would make it under his mattress beside the picture of his mother and a flour-covered mari.

yuri pulled one of jj leroy's ties from the top drawer of his dresser, and tied it tight around the top of his arm and raised the needle. god, would coming down be terrible, but god, did yuri want to forget. even if it was only for the smallest fraction of time in an expensive hotel room and would take its toll soon after.

for the three nights that week yuri had managed to fly away, coming to the same hotel to meet the same man - who would always be at his same seat at the bar - yuri had been selling himself as well. jj had told him that he wouldn't use yuri's body in a trade for his escape, but yuri said that he had to make money for celestino to escape his boots, even if the only reason he went to that hotel room was to leave him and his other demons down on the ground as he flew away; including a boy with with silver hair and blue eyes, getting smaller and smaller down on the ground as yuri flew higher and higher.

but that night, yuri was too desperate to escape to have jj press a few bank notes into his hands and do what had been done to him so many times by so many different hands he barely felt a thing anymore. not even disgust.

he'd have to take out more of the money he'd stashed away to keep celestino happy if he wasn't going to have any of jj's money in his jean pockets the next morning when he put his key in the lock of the ground-floor apartment and had to hide the effects that his escape was having on him from celestino's eyes. and besides, what was the point of yuri saving up for the escape from those heavy boots, that apartment without hot water and the late nights, if he had nowhere else to go?

he might as well overdose.

yuri smiled to himself, slightly, as he pushed the syringe towards him and watched the contents decrease as they entered his bloodstream to take him away.

new chapter ??