M.O.N.E.Y • viktuuri ✔️

61.| cocaine

victor could feel the anger building up in his chest, stacking up like toy blocks; the same anger he had felt to see that man in the boss suit grab yuri's face when he was in a hospital bed, the same anger he had felt when he had seen the damage this man had caused yuri katsuki and the same anger he had felt to hear celestino cialdini threatening him from inside that apartment, kicking him as if he were a dog.

victor ran his hands slowly through his hair to calm himself down, before he punched at the car's dashboard as hard as he could, over and over again. with aching knuckles, he sat beck in the driver's seat of his silver mercedes, and as he tried to slow down his breathing he thought back to yuri in his passenger seat, headlights sweeping over him as he leaned against the car window, wearing victor's blood-stained denim jacket that would now surely bear the scent of bubblegum.

victor looked up at the police station impatiently, unable to stay waiting out in the car, and yet unable to stay in the corridors whilst knowing that the man in the boss suit and heavy boots was only metres away from him, and only inches away from his yuri.

fists clenching and relaxing, chest tight and mind running wild, filled to the brim with thoughts a black porsche and the feel of yuri's bare skin under his hands, victor couldn't help but dig out the small bag of sugar-white powder from the glovebox of his car, tip a few sprinkles out onto the dashboard and sniff without a rolled banknote, in a hurry to get it into his bloodstream to stop him shaking with anger and to stop thinking of that soft skin he had kissed all over being bruised and damaged; to stop him thinking of that boy with the soft dark, dark hair who made him katsudon, had a dimple on his left cheek and cried on victor's grey sofa.

rubbing under his nose hard, victor shook his head to wake himself up and took the last cigarette out of the malboro pack that was poking out of the pocket of his jeans.

but even with the taste of nicotine and cocaine in his bloodstream, he couldn't stop thinking of his yuri being so close to that man in the boss suit right at that moment, inside the buildings victor was parked in front of, smoking a cigarette and cursing under his breath at celestino cialdini.

and victor was glad when his phone started ringing, because it helped the drugs and the smoke filling up his lungs to take his mind off of the prozac yuri swallowed and the cut on his lips inflicted by those heavy rings.

"victor?"

"chris? is that you?" victor asked, rolling down the window to let out the smoke, rain starting to spatter against his arm.

"yeah it's me," chris went on, voice crackling down the line.

"what's up?" victor asked wearily, rubbing his forehead with the tops of his fingers and sniffing.

"wait, victor, are you high?"

"what the fuck does it matter to you?" victor groaned irritably, before sighing heavily. "sorry chris, just stressed. fuck, i'm sorry."

"why? what's wrong? are you ok, victor?"

"it's yuri," victor went on, leaning back in his seat and looking out at the police station. "gone to go see that fucker celestino in prison before he talks to the police. i'm just...just hate even the thought of that motherfucker being anywhere near him, y'know?"

chris hummed in agreement, and although the sugar in his blood jumbled up his mind, victor could make out that he sounded different.

sounded like he had done in that hospital corridor three days before, whilst yuri lay in a white bed with a drip in his hand.