M.O.N.E.Y • viktuuri ✔️

53.| sirens

"this should be fun, shouldn't it?" celestino smiled, pulling yuri's head back onto his shoulder by his soft dark, dark hair. "your boyfriend gonna carry you away, slut? is that what you fucking think?"

"don't you fucking touch him," victor shouted at the top of his lungs, hitting into the door once more; and although it shook on its hinges, it stayed put.

"this is getting a little boring, isn't it, yuri?" celestino teased, and kissed yuri's bruised, bleeding cheek. yuri tried to wriggle out of his tight grip, and was surprised when celestino pushed him away.

"alright, nikiforov, alright," he chuckled nastily. "that shoulder of yours must be hurting by now, mustn't it? why don't i put you out of your misery?"

"клянусь Богом...motherfucker...i swear...i - "

yuri's eyes widened as celestino unlocked the door to apartment 14, revealing his victor - white shirt, dishevelled hair and angry blue eyes - with chris giacometti by his side, phone in hand.

but when victor nikiforov caught sight of yuri behind the man in the boss suit and heavy boots, and the mess of his soft, delicate face, his blue, blue eyes filled with tears.

"isn't that adorable?" celestino said to chris, having looked at both victor and yuri in turn. yuri saw victor's jaw tense.

"now, victor nikiforov and company," he mocked, "why the fuck are you trying to break down my door on this fine evening?"

•

victor was shaking; he was so angry that he couldn't stop shaking. his hands were clenched into fists by his sides, and he shook off chris's arm.

"victor, don't - "

but with yuri's damaged, soft, delicate face in front of his eyes, victor punched celestino cialdini and sent him reeling backwards, and ignored chris's shouts to "calm down, the police will be here any minute" and punched the man in the hugo boss suit once again.

"you fucking like to hurt him, huh?" victor shouted, with celestino now pinned down on his back with victor's hands planted either side of his face. "is that what you get your fucking kicks from, huh? sick bastard - "

"victor, the police - "

"my, my," celestino laughed, blood staining his teeth. "i've never none someone to care about a fucking whore so much before."

"he's not my fucking pimp, because i'm not a fucking whore."

and with yuri's damaged torso, damaged back, the blood running down his face and the tears on his soft, delicate, bruised cheeks flicking through victor's mind like a pile of photographs, he brought his fist against celestino cialdini's face once again, and chris's pleas, the humming he could hear from upstairs and the sight of yuri katsuki standing only inches away from him without a word vanished as his hand hit against bone.

god, was victor nikiforov angry at the thought of this man in the boss suit and bleeding nose touching his angel with the soft dark, dark hair

sugar🍭: because he's going to hurt me, victor

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