M.O.N.E.Y • viktuuri ✔️

109.| lumière

IDONTWANNABEYOU
BILLIE EILISH

"y'know, yuri, you're quite something, i'll give you that."

yuri was trying to tune out every word akio fucking tanaka had to say by focusing on the blank television screen. he didn't want to go upstairs; he didn't want akio to go upstairs. he didn't want anyone to take away the afterglow slowly dying up there on the sheets, because he didn't want to lose that feeling; that feeling of victor being so close to him.

hehe could still feel victor nikiforov's hand on the small of his back. akio clapped his hands roughly in yuri's face and made him jump.

"you listening to me? you listening to me, baby, huh?"

the held silence of the car ride back, with rain trickling down the windows and the scent of vanilla, aftershave and lemon fading.

"don't call me that."

the words rolled off yuri's tongue before he could think them through; akio had reminded him of every time victor had called him "baby" and the way it had made him feel. akio laughed to himself at that, ran a hand through his hair, then hit yuri across the face. there was still dried blood on his lips, and a hospital band around his left wrist.

"i'll call you whatever the fuck i want to," he said, and grabbed yuri by the shoulders. "and if i say i want to fuck you, i'll fuck you, okay?"

say something.
say something.

"sex is a way of showing someone how much you care about them without words."

yuri froze. his mind took him back from a darkened hallway in chris giacometti's apartment to that god-awful flat 14. his ribs ached and he flinched, as if celestino cialdini's heavy boots were sounding down the hall. his hands were closed tight around the material of the sofa, and he hated akio tanaka more than ever, in that one moment.

"you ignoring me?"

yuri closed his eyes and tried to stop the tape of victor pounding on the door as celestino kicked him hard playing, but he didn't do a thing. the words had come so quick and harsh from akio, yuri didn't say a thing.

all he could hear was celestino cialdini through the man with the dark-hair and split lip standing before him, and yuri wished he were back outside, in the cold, looking out at a dead parking lot with victor nikiforov standing beside him.

"got something to say?" akio asked, shaking yuri's shoulders hard. yuri forced himself not to wince and tightened his grip on the sofa cushion. "say it," akio shouted. back in another room now, a year before, akio shouting at him, a "disappointment," he'd find someone else to fuck, yuri hitting the wall as he raised his hand.

shower gel and coffee now. luca's hair damp from a shower. now he was in their bedroom, in the dark, luca trying to convince him, biting his bottom lip too hard when he kissed him, too rough.

"fucking answer me, yuri," akio shouted louder, and pushed him hard back against the sofa. he narrowly avoided hitting his head on the wall. god, he wished he could just say something, anything. he felt as fucking weak and worthless as he had done when keeping his eyes on the hotel headboard and imagining victor nikiforov pushing into him, hands on his skin, instead of a man who's name he'd never known.