M.O.N.E.Y • viktuuri ✔️

62.| lips

tHANK YOU FOR 6k !¡!
now have some of celestino being an asshat and victor and yuri making out in a car

yuri felt vulnerable sitting in the plastic chair he was sat in, wearing victor nikiforov's grey coat with prozac in his pocket and wearing jeans ripped at the knees, decorated with a few specks of blood. he held the phone to his ear with one hand, trying to avoid looking directly through the glass at celestino cialdini, slumped at the table opposite him and running his thumb backwards and forwards over his lips.

yuri could feel himself starting to get anxious, and bit at his nail to calm himself down.

he wished that he would at least stop shaking.

"what's up, baby?" celestino laughed hoarsely, making yuri's skin crawl. "why you shaking? is it withdrawal from that filth you were injecting behind my back, or because you don't have your rich little boyfriend to defend you, hm?"

the edge to his voice made yuri's throat tighten, and he dig his nails into his palms until the skin threaten to bleed. celestino laughed at him down the phone line, playing wth the cable.

"what am i gonna do to you, huh? police officers all around, stuck behind this glass. you're scared of me, baby, i can tell."

"don't call me that," yuri spat down the phone, fear slipping straight into anger. celestino started to tap his fingers against the table, each noise making yuri anxious and causing the bruises on his body to throb ever the more.

"don't call you what, baby?"

"that," yuri hissed through gritted teeth. celestino smiled at him, and gave a laugh with an edge sharp as that of a knife.

"is that what your boyfriend calls you, huh?"

celestino leant forwards, orange prison overalls crinkling, and adjusted the phone by his ear.

legs shaking under the table with fear, too hot in the coat with the scent of lemon, vanilla and aftershave, bruises whining from the stress and head pounding from the withdrawal, yuri found himself momentarily wishing he was back in that hotel room, toe around his arm, needle sloping into his skin and letting him escape, if only for a while.

but yuri thought of his victor - the feel of him, the scent of him, the taste of him and the way he made yuri feel; the way he touched him as if he were an angel - and dragged himself away from any thought of heroin.

"if you think," celestino said in a low, steely voice, with a look in his eyes that made yuri's breath catch in his throat, "for one fucking minute that you're going to live happily ever after with him, then that heroin has fucked with your mind, sweetheart."

he leant back in his chair, relishing in the effect he had on yuri that was plain to his eye; yuri katsuki was still scared of him. celestino flexed his fingers, and yuri couldn't help but wince.

"you're mine, katsuki," he whispered forcefully through the phone. "you've been mine ever since i found you out on the streets hours after you'd been selling yourself at that banquet, huh? only days after that akio tanaka saw sense and decided he wanted to fuck someone else? someone worth more than you?"

yuri bit down on the cut on his lip, and used the taste of blood in his mouth to prevent the tears in his eyes from showing themselves to celestino.