M.O.N.E.Y • viktuuri ✔️

58.| chapstick

song: please be naked by the 1975

"what the fuck did you just say? you think that's i don't love you? you love me?"

yuri rubbed his eyes as if to rub it all away, before he looked up at victor nikiforov's blue, blue eyes once again.

"y-you never said...that you loved m-me..."

victor laughed aloud, running his hands through his silver hair over and over.

"are you serious, yuri? you think that i don't love you? what are you talking about?"

he stumbled for words, and yuri wished that he believed every fucking thing that was coming out of his mouth. victor shook his head to himself once more, before he stepped forwards and cupped yuri's bruised and bloodied face in his soft hands.

"how could you not see it, baby?" victor laughed softly, face inches away from yuri's, lips so close to his own. "how could you not see that i want you?"

"but that's just it, isn't it?" yuri forced out, leaning his forehead against victor's. although every part of his body screamed for him to pull away, he wanted to feel victor, to know that he was close to him.

"what? what are you talking about, yuri, what?" victor murmured against the side of his face, hands threading in his hair and lips daring to touch his soft skin.

"you only want me for sex, don't you?" yuri whispered tearfully, and winced as victor pulled away from him instantly.

"what?"

"it's all i'm good for," yuri cried, unable to control his emotions any longer, tears pouring from his chocolate eyes and leaving his throat dry and tight. "it's all anyone wants from me, isn't it?"

"what the fuck are you saying?" victor cried out in anger, staring at yuri in disbelief. yuri tried to fight off the pain in his chest but it wound tight around him and sucked the air from his lungs and the words from his lips.

"you think that i only want your body?" victor shouted. "like all those fucking men who touched you up for a few dollars? is that it?"

yuri winced, and dug his nails into his palms by his side to distract from the pain of victor nikiforov not being close to him, and leaving him cold.

"fuck this," victor laughed bitterly, and strode towards the door with angry blue eyes. and yuri sat down on the bed, tears dripping onto the mattress, lump in his throat and tape after tape of akio's lips and victor's chest rising and falling as he slept only inches away from him playing before his eyes, the "pause" button broken.

•

victor's ears still rung with the childish slam of the bedroom door, and his breathing was still fast and ragged with anger, his lips still sweet with the taste of yuri katsuki's soft skin.

after all those nights of longing, the fear he had felt as he had watched a black porsche pull out of a hospital car park, the pain he had felt at the sight of his damaged body and holding him in his arms as the elevator descended ever so slowly, and his yuri thought that victor didn't love him.