Chapter Text
Half of the room was absolutely bristling, fuelled by fury and rage like they had never experienced before, whilst the other half was just scared and confused. The aura in the air was toxic, burning a new hole in Yuuri’s already degrading mental state, and he felt like he was about to explode. He could feel Chris and Viktor beside him, seething and going over a hundred and one reasons why this was probably just one bad dream.
”You sick cunt!” Chris shouted, “To your own family…”
“We are a family now.” Georgi frowned, “But we haven’t always been.”
“What the hell does that mean?” Viktor spat, body practically quaking in anger. “What the fuck do you mean, Georgi?”
“I always liked Yuuri.” He tilted his head, staring down at the boy. “But you didn’t think I would just accept him into the family like that, would you?”
“All this…” Viktor huffed, “All this just as some sort of hazing for Yuuri? Is this some kind of sick joke I’m not getting?”
“Vitya, you have it all wrong-“
“Then please! Please inform me. Tell me everything’s going to be alright, little brother, because from where I’m standing everything is not fucking alright!”
“I knew you would be upset.” The middle child frowned, “But this is how it had to be. Things are changing for the better now, bratik. It’s a hard pill to swallow, but I find you will quite like how this turns out.”
“What…” Viktor tried to stand, but fell back into Yuuri. “So you’re jealous? Is that what this is about? You’re upset that a faggot is running the brotherhood just like everybody else, so you’ve decided to take over?”
“No! Viktor,” Georgi took a step towards them, “Listen to me! We are more alike than you know. You understand love, but Lev never did.” He sat on the pew in front of them, leaning back with a dramatic sigh, “I never wanted to hurt you, and I never wanted anybody else to get hurt either. What our parents did was done in good heart, but it would never work out… Look at you!” He motioned to everybody kneeling in the circle around Leo’s dismembered body. “I am but one person with a small following, like an ant under your boot, but you needed a magnifying glass to see me! This will never work. That’s why I should be Pakhan.”
“You know I never wanted this!” Yuuri had to grip onto Viktor’s shoulders to stop him from thrashing and hurting himself, “You know that I hated being Pakhan! You could have told me!”
“It’s not that simple.” He hid his face in his hands, “I don’t mean Pakhan of the Bratva, I mean of all organized crime.”
“Who the- What the hell? Do you really think we’re just going to hand over our well-earned land to you?” Minako shouted at the man, “After years of fights, truces, and alliances your parents and I came to the conclusion that it would be better if peace was kept between all of us, is that so unreasonable?”
“It is when you look at the whole picture!” Georgi shot up, “I don’t want to take away your positions, I’m simply stating that I should be the one in charge. Did you see the lengths Viktor was willing to go for Yuuri? How quickly his men turned on him at even the slightest sign of change? True love got them through it. Unconditional, true love. I can offer that to you in turn if you just join me.”
“So you… You did all this… to bring us here? To tear us from each other? To show how weak we are?” Guang-Hong had gained years, it looked like, with tears still streaming down his face.
“No, I did all this to show you how strong you could be.” Georgi pointed at Leo, “He was a small price to pay, but it proves he was weak. You can all be strong, too, like Viktor and Yuuri. Their love has gotten through everything I’ve thrown at them-“
“You told them…” There were tears streaming down Viktor’s face, but he wasn’t crying. “You told everybody about Yuuri on purpose to test our love…”
“Do you see it now?” The black-haired man started to beam again, “I knew you would come around eventually! I did it so you could show them what a powerful Pakhan you are, with Yuuri too.”
“You know, Georgi,” Yuuri spoke calmly, a complete contrast to the drying blood on his lips and chin and dead look in his eye. “I think I do understand.”
“Yes! Thank you, Yuuri.”
“You wanted this for me,” He pointed to the tattoo, “So you would really know I was committed to the brotherhood.” Yuuri stood then, making the armed men and women around him tense.
“Oh, Yuuri!” Georgi looked like he was about to tear up, “This is going even better than I thought it would!”
“Yes, Georgi,” The boy’s expression never changed, even when he made a move to walk towards the man and Viktor’s grip on his sleeve tightened. Yuuri only turned to look at Viktor for a second, shooting him an ’I know what I’m doing’ look. “Thank you for showing us, bratik. Do you think maybe we should have some family time now?”
It was scary seeing Yuuri like that. Completely void of emotion and speaking as if Georgi was just a child. Every word that came out was slow, precise, and well pronounced. He was being extremely careful in his movements and mannerism as if the Russian man was a toddler on the verge of a tantrum.
“Oh, good idea Yuuri!” Georgi smiled, “Should the others leave?”
“Yes, I think they should.” Yuuri nodded slowly, “You don’t want them imposing, right?”
“Definitely not.” Georgi motioned to the armed men and women to leave, and they did so quickly, staring up at him with unbelieving eyes.
Georgi was a loose cannon before this, now it was even more apparent. The look in his eyes and the way the men avoided his gaze and never spoke was another indicator of that. It freaked Viktor out, set him on edge; he really didn’t want Yuuri anywhere near him at the moment, but the boy was much more composed than he was, and he didn’t really trust himself to make any rational decisions.
“These guys can stay though, can’t they bratik?” There was that word again; brother. Viktor was sure it was some kind of tactic. He was trying to get Georgi to lower his guard. “They’re going to be family as well soon, right?”
“I’m still unsure… Vitya, what do you think?” Yuuri turned to Viktor and gripped his arm gently, hoisting the bigger man to his feet.
“You have always been smarter than me, bratik, I think you should listen to Yuuri.”
“Yes, I suppose.” Georgi nodded. The rest of the room had practically shrunk back, all of them slowly inching towards each other. Guang-Hong had not moved, but Chris had, slowly shuffling himself so he could discretely untie Emil’s binds.
“Did we tell you Viktor proposed, Georgi?” Viktor’s arm was around Yuuri’s shoulder, slumped against him for a bit of support, so Yuuri reached to grab his hand and showed the ring to his half-brother.
“Congratulations! I had no idea!” The black-haired man practically squealed in delight.
“We were thinking a Spring wedding. Can we sit down and talk about it? I’m a little sore.” Viktor tugged Yuuri a bit closer to him, nudging him towards a set of pews that Georgi’s men had pushed aside.
“Yes, of course!” He followed them, completely oblivious to the bound prisoners escaping their ropes from under his nose.
“Have you ever been to Japan, bratik?” Yuuri asked as he helped Viktor sit, making sure to be between him and his brother.
“No! Is that where you would like to get married?”
“Yes, I think so.” Yuuri’s hand found Viktor’s between them on the bench. He almost pulled it away when something cut him, and that was when he realized the older man had something sharp in his hand. “We would have to go to North America or maybe here to get the legal documents, but it would be nice to go to my home for the ceremony.”
“St. Petersburg is not your home? Yuuri, I thought-“
“No, no!” Yuuri quickly reassured him, not wanting the man to get upset. “I mean my hometown where I was born. Wouldn’t you like to see it?” Yuuri slipped his hand into Viktor’s, urging him to hand him whatever he was holding, but Viktor was obviously hesitating.
’Right now is the perfect opportunity.’ Yuuri yelled to himself, ’Viktor, just trust me!’
“I would love to!” Georgi’s face blushed slightly, “I hope to one day find love like you two have found. I’m so proud of you, brother.”
“I-I’m proud of you too, Georgi.” Viktor stammered around the lump in his throat, tears streaming down his face as he clutched the object tighter. “Y-You were always so smart. Papa didn’t see that.”
“Aw, Vitya, why are you crying?” Georgi looked genuinely concerned and it felt like a hand in Yuuri’s gut, twisting his innards without mercy.
“Because I’m just so happy, bratik.” His hand fell open, letting Yuuri grip the shard from the broken window in his hand. “I’m so happy you could show us this.”
Georgi opened his mouth like he was about to answer, but Yuuri was quicker. He gripped the broken stain-glass shard tight in his hand, ignoring the pain as it sliced into his palm, and brought it up fast, slitting the Russian’s throat in one swipe.
His eyes became confused momentarily as he reached up and touched the gaping wound in his neck; shifting from Yuuri to Viktor, then back again. He shook his head, and his confused look turned into one of sadness and betrayal. He knew in that moment what Viktor and Yuuri had done, and that was the one thing he never saw coming. He had always been so convinced that they would just come running into his open arms, that they would see the big picture like he did and just ignore all he had put them through, but he never expected this.
Georgi gripped Yuuri’s sleeve, and the boy let him, holding it tightly in his fist and falling to his knees, looking up at his brother and his fiancé and just mouthing one word over and over.
’Why?’
’Why?’
’Why?’
“I love you, brother.” Viktor whispered, “I’m sorry you did this.”
Georgi coughed up blood then onto the stone floor, staining the white tile a putrid shade of red. He clutched at his throat as he choked, trying to catch his breath but he just couldn’t quite get it.
Viktor and Yuuri both stared down at him from their spot on the pew until he stopped struggling, laying face down in the blood and bile he had thrown up. Only then did Viktor look away, burying his face in Yuuri’s shirt and letting out a loud sob. Yuuri just embraced him, holding him close to his chest, and letting him get it all out. Viktor very rarely cried at all, and it was scary enough when he let out a few tears, let alone a flood like this.
Chris stood from the floor slowly, looking over in their direction. Amber eyes met hazel and that was all that had to happen for Chris to know not to approach, to just collect his things and go. The Swiss man quickly corralled the others, getting them to stand and motioning for them to leave Viktor and Yuuri alone. Guang-Hong was difficult. Michele and Sara had to pry him off Leo’s body, and even then they were struggling to get him away. Other than the Chinese boy’s screams and Viktor’s body-wracking sobs the room was dead silent, until the doors to the cathedral swung open, and everybody’s head shot towards it.
“Guys, wha- Oh.” Mila and Yuri stepped in, looking around at the state of the cathedral. “W-What’s going on?”
Yuuri squeezed Viktor tighter to his chest. “How did you know we were here?”
“I-I got a call from Beka. He didn’t sound so good but he mentioned s-something about the marina and we heard gunshots… Where is Beka?”
Yuuri shook his head slowly, and Viktor clung to his shirt tighter, letting out a loud sob. Yuri’s face fell, and he started shaking his head rapidly.
“No… No, he’s not-“ He frowned as tears started welling in his eyes, “Where is he, Yuuri…”
It was the first time in a long time that the younger boy had called Yuuri by his full name. From the beginning he had been dead set on nicknames, never wanting to share the same name as some whore that Viktor picked off the street.
“I-I’m sorry, Yuri…”
“Oh god…” Mila locked eyes with Georgi’s body, “Oh fuck. Oh, jesus, what happened?” She ran her fingers through her auburn hair, tugging hard at the roots. “What did you do, Georgi…” She walked to him, dropping to her knees in the pool of blood. “What did you do, big brother…” She whispered, just letting tears slip past.
Yuuri stood slowly, pulling Viktor up with him, but still letting the man hide himself in his chest. He gently rested a hand on Mila’s shoulder, coaxing her off her knees and into his side as well. When she did, Viktor immediately gripped onto her too, pulling the three of them as close as possible. Yuri continued to sob, kicking over the lines of pews and cursing, punching things until his knuckles were bruised and raw, but if that’s what he needed to do right now, Yuuri wouldn’t intervene.
“We should leave.” He said to everybody in the room, voice completely void of emotion. “The police will be here soon.”
~~~
The water from the sink ran red as Yuuri put the rag under, washing it for the third time. He had been at it for a while, gently dabbing the dry blood from Viktor’s face and trying to find the wound. The Russian had been silent the entire walk, or limp, back to the hotel room, and was continuing to do so, but Yuuri didn’t want to push anything. He asked Viktor for the key card, he gave it to him. He asked Viktor to sit on the counter; he did it without uttering a single word. Honestly, it would have scared Yuuri if he had not have been there to see what Viktor saw, or done what he did. Even now he didn’t really feel like talking, but he had to be strong, but he couldn't pretend like nothing had happened.
So he searched for the wound, rinsing the cloth again, and bringing it back up to Viktor’s swollen face, though at least now he could see his pale skin underneath, now turned grey from the flickering bathroom lights.
“How would you feel about going to the hospital?”
Viktor didn’t reply, just stared down at the ground. His eyes had not left the spot for an hour now, and Yuuri was beginning to wonder if the man was even awake or if he had fallen asleep with them open.
“I oh-“ He pulled the rag back sharply, “I found the cut, sorry.”
It was over his eye, from just under his brow bone to his cheek and through his eyelid. Lucky enough, it hadn’t caught anything important, but it was deep enough that it would scar. Yuuri accidently caught the cloth on it when he found it, but Viktor didn’t react. It seemed that in this moment Viktor was completely numb to everything.
“You may not want to go to the hospital, but let me look at your stomach.” He grabbed Viktor’s hand, and the man hesitated. “Come on, I need to check.”
Again, Viktor didn’t respond with words, he just went along with the motions, letting Yuuri pull him over to the bed and lay him down across it gently, head against the pillows. Nimble fingers undid his buttons, pulling the fabric back and letting hot hands trail across the cold expanse of his skin. He had quite a large black bruise blossoming across his left side where the woman had continually kicked, a few scattered here and there, and some on his legs when Yuuri managed to coax his pants down over his boxers.
“This had me thinking back to when I first came home,” Yuuri said it like Viktor was supposed to say something back, but he knew he wouldn’t get a response. “God, they all hated me so much.” He chuckled to himself, “I remember I was so scared. It was a completely new place, I had never been to anywhere other than Japan and America, and when I met Yakov?” Yuuri dabbed gently at a patch of blood on Viktor’s chest, “That was scary. But it was always better when you were around. Yuri and Mila too, I think it helped that they were around my age.” He looked over at Viktor’s cloudy eyes, staring off out the window at the moon. “I found out today that Yuri and Otabek are dating, did you know that?”
Viktor’s face slowly turned towards him, and he shook his head slowly.
“I kind of thought, but I didn’t think it was polite of me to ask.” The boy brushed the Russian’s bloody blond bangs away from his face, “We aren’t supposed to know, so don’t tell him.” He smiled gently down at Viktor, glad he could get some response out of the man. “Hey, do you remember that first night I stayed at the house? When we danced to that Foreigner record?”
“Greatest hits…”
“Yeah, the greatest hits.” The corner of Viktor’s mouth turned up a bit and he nodded up at Yuuri, “We haven’t listened to that album for a while.” The boy reached up and cupped the side of Viktor’s face, and the man leaned into the touch. “You a bit better now?”
He nodded.
“Want to take a shower?”
He shook his head.
“I’ll do all the work.” Yuuri reasoned, “You just have to sit there.” That seemed to do the trick, because instead of a dead weight against the pull of Yuuri’s hand, suddenly he moved with ease, following the younger boy back into the bathroom.
He leaned him up against the wall, getting him to shrug off his shirt, then reached down to unbuckle his pants. He slid Viktor’s belt out of the loops and undid the zipper, slow and languid, lacking his usual vigour while doing this activity. Viktor didn’t complain, though, he just rested his head against the cold drywall of the bathroom, and closed his eyes as Yuuri pulled down his trousers and boxers by the waistband, leaving him completely bare and vulnerable against the wall.
Yuuri began to undress now, not even bothering to undo his shirt. There was a big stain across the front from the tattoo ink and a large hole in it, so he just tore it from his chest and dropped it to the floor. Relaxed and slow he did his pants as well, before turning on the water and stepping into it, helping Viktor over the edge of the tub.
The water pressure was nothing like they had at home, but it would do. It was almost nicer because they had to huddle a bit so they would both be under the spray. Yuuri started with the shampoo, lathering and massaging it into Viktor’s stained blond locks. He would worry about himself after, because he didn’t care if the shower was cold. Yuuri adjusted them so the taller was under the stream, gently guiding his head back so he wouldn’t get shampoo in his cuts or eyes.
Then the conditioner was just as slow, and as it settled into the thick blond hair he massaged it in too, until he felt it was thorough enough and moved to soap up Viktor’s body with the body wash. Careful of his bruises and scrapes, Yuuri slowly cleaned him up, getting into every hard crevice of his body, and gently massaging his tense muscles until the Russian relaxed a bit.
He hummed quietly when small hands reached up into his hair again, washing out the last of the shampoo. Viktor sprung to life then, swooping down and threatening to capture the smaller boy’s lips in his.
“Just wait,” Yuuri held a hand up to his chest, “I still have blood in my mouth.”
But Viktor didn’t listen, he just reached up to Yuuri’s face and cupped his chin, turning it up so he was looking into his eyes, then dipped again. It wasn’t lustful or erotic, but it wasn’t innocent either. The kiss was unlike anything they had ever shared, but it wasn’t without emotion or love, it was just a new kind that they had found that night.
Viktor kissed him deep, ignoring the stale, coppery taste on his lover’s tongue. Yuuri tried to forget it too, reaching up into soft blond locks to pull the man a bit closer. When they pulled away, out of breath and huffing, Viktor’s eyes had a chance to trail over Yuuri’s body.
“When did those happen?” He asked quietly, motioning to the purple and yellow bruises across his elbows and knees.
“In the apartment across the street,” Yuuri looked down at them too, “They fired at us, and Otabek tackled me.” A solemn look of remorse flashed in Viktor’s eyes, but it was gone in a second.
“Let me do you now.”
“No, Viktor, you should go to bed.”
“Please? I want to.” He reached over and grabbed the shampoo bottle, squeezing some into his palm and lathering it up before pulling Yuuri a bit closer and kneading the fruity substance into his hair. It wasn’t really fit for Yuuri’s hair type, which the boy didn’t even known was a thing until Viktor told him all about it, but the sentiment was there, and Yuuri let it happen. Dirty, sweaty water dripped down his face and chin as Viktor pushed him gently under the spray, closing his eyes with the pads of his thumbs. He repeated with the conditioner, working it deep onto Yuuri’s scalp before pulling away and lathering him up with the citrusy body wash, but almost avoiding the fresh, marred-looking tattoo completely.
“I think I would like to dance with you again,” He spoke suddenly, pushing Yuuri under the stream to clean off the dirty suds from his stomach. “To that song, I mean.”
“Let’s plan it, then.” Yuuri smiled up at him, “How about, say, two Springs from now?”
“Only if you get your schooling done, mister, and stop fooling around!” Viktor caught Yuuri by the side, pulling him close as he tickled him relentlessly.
“H-Hey!” Yuuri tried pushing him away, but he was overwhelmed with joy that Viktor was almost back to his old self, “S-Stop! You know I will.”
“How could I forget!” Viktor dipped and kissed him again, “You and your smartass comments, always showing off how intelligent you are.”
The shorter boy reached behind him to turn off the water, pulling Viktor’s head down so their lips could meet again, searing and passionate, and so full of life just as they usually were.
“Hey Viktor?”
“Mhm?”
“Let’s go home.”
~One Year Later~
“Eva Kalev.”
The music had been playing for a while, and as the crescendo rose and fell Yuuri’s fingers started to twitch once again. The names were starting to get closer and closer to his own, and he could feel the anticipation from behind the curtain.
He was nervous now, but he knew as soon as he opened that curtain and gripped the diploma, he was home free. As soon as his family’s eyes met his, he would be fine. The twitching would stop, as would the sweating, and it would be replaced only by the overwhelming sense of accomplishment.
”Duncan Kasimov.”
Yuuri gripped the edges of his suit, pulling the collar away from his neck. It was becoming increasingly obvious that he had started to grow again, and the suit Viktor had bought him when he moved there was getting too small already. It was expensive, and fitting it was tedious, so he was hoping to postpone getting a new suit until the wedding, but Viktor wasn’t having it, insisting that he buy Yuuri a new one for his graduation ceremony.
His graduation ceremony.
It still felt weird to say. These last few months had gone by in a blur, but Yuuri couldn’t say anything about it other than it had been the best year of his life. Yes, like every year it had good days and bad days, but the good outweighed the bad, and at least he had an entire family there to help him when times got rough.
”Yuuri Katsuki.”
There it was; thickly accented, and a bit mispronounced, but it was obviously Yuuri’s name. It was to be expected, too, when the principle had not heard his name until they had enquired as to whether he could be included in the ceremony along with the others. He had originally been against the idea, but Viktor insisted, backed up by Mila. He deserved to have the real high school experience, even if it wasn’t in Japan or America.
Yuuri bounced on the balls of his feet once, inhaling deep, and walking out onto the street. He accepted his diploma, and shook the principles hand firmly, before turning towards the audience.
There, in the front row, was everybody. Yuri, with his hair tied back in a tight braid, Otabek with a small smile on his face that was so rare to see, Mila with a bittersweet look, hands clasped tightly in front of her chest, Chris and Lilia who looked like they could cry at any moment, but still composed as ever, and Viktor. Viktor who’s beautiful blue irises were glossy, threatening tears any second, suit jacket as well fitted and pristine as ever; a complete contrast to the tornado of emotions that was going on behind his cerulean eyes.
So yeah, maybe this last year and a half was a little bumpy. Maybe sometimes he was scared for his life, and others he was scared for the ones he loved, but he could say he dreamt, and screamed, and yelled, and cried, and he felt for the first time in a long time, and it felt good to say.
Then Yuuri Katsuki, eighteen years old, Hasetsu native, fiancé to St. Petersburg Bratva Pakhan Viktor Nikiforov, friend, and soon-to-be brother-in-law, shot a fist in the air with a hoot, gripping his diploma tight that he earned himself, earning him a loud ruckus of applause from the front row, and a hundred judgemental glances from the rest of the audience.
But really, he couldn’t find it in himself to care.
~To Be Continued~