M.O.N.E.Y • viktuuri ✔️

80.| lingerie

truly
by cigarettes after sex

time for a long chapter in which the word "fuck" is overused

yuri was watching the still, grey sky through the still glass of the window, eyes wide open, bedsheets drawn to his chest, exposed skin cold, akio tanaka lying beside him on his back with one arm behind his head, scrolling through his phone, no shirt and jeans.

"you awake, yuri?" he said in a voice lower from sleep, and yuri didn't move.

"hey," akio laughed, leaning over and pressing his lips against yuri's bare shoulder. "you not talking to me, huh?"

this isn't victor.
this isn't victor.
this isn't victor.

yuri breathed in through his nose again, and pulled himself up so that he saw wth his back against the bedhead, grey bedsheets that weren't as soft as victor nikiforov's pulled up around him, knees drawn to his chest.

"you ok?" akio asked lightly, looking up from his phone. yuri knew he should nod, so with eyes still focused on the sky looking down at him from outside, he did.

this isn't victor.
this isn't victor.
this isn't victor.

"i'll admit," akio laughed, and set down his phone on the table by the bed. "i wasn't expecting us to...you know..."

yuri closed his eyes.

"...do that quite so quickly..."

a fucking whore.
a fucking whore.
a fucking whore.
a fucking whore.

"but i've got to say," akio went on, fingers tracing over yuri's bare leg. "you're still fucking good at it, baby."

he leant in and kissed yuri's lips, and yuri did nothing to stop him.

"hey," akio hummed, two fingers on the side of yuri's face where the bruise was still healing. "hey, say something, won't you?"

he said it gently enough, but it still made yuri wince.

"say something, won't you? fucking say something, yuri..."

and then there was the smash of glass against the wall, the sound of drugged-up rich kids gasping as the victor nikiforov  started to kick at akio tanaka down on the ground.

"what do you want me to say?" yuri said, pushing the hair out of his eyes. akio took this chance to kiss yuri's mouth, before he could even think about reacting, and slipping off of the bed.

"you're hot," akio said silkily, smiling at yuri in the way that would've made him come running back when he was fifteen. "mm, i want to see you in lingerie."

yuri didn't say a thing.

"red lingerie," akio said in that same low, husky voice, before he kissed yuri's mouth again. he bit at yuri's bottom lip, which took him back to that guest bedroom in georgi popovich's expensive house.