Chapter Text
“What about this one?”
The voice was deep, accompanied by the sound of his heavy bedroom door squeaking on it’s hinges; breaking Yuuri from his thoughts and making him sprawl out across his bed. It wasn’t loud, he was just naturally jumpy and wasn’t expecting a visitor at this time of night and the words were in Russian, which meant it could only be Alexei’s men, or a friend of his. He still couldn’t bring himself to turn in the direction of the voice, despite his nerves settling a bit. Had Alexei really brought somebody for him this early? He’d done it before, but it had been quite some time.
“You don’t want that one.” Came Alexei’s voice from the doorway, “He is popular because he’s young, but he’s really nothing special.” Yuuri heard the floor creek from the doorframe, whoever was speaking to Alexei had entered the room.
“Where does he come from?”
“I can’t recall.” Yuuri turned his head away from the noise, bringing his legs up to his chest. “He hasn’t been here long and barely talks, probably Korea though. I’ve had a couple Korean girls in the past and they look quite similar.” Cold hands gripped his face. As soon as the pads of the man’s fingers touched the line of his jaw he winced, expecting it to be a bruising, forceful grip, but it never came, just gently guided his face in the direction of the man’s own. He averted his gaze; he never did like looking his clients in the eye.
“He looks Japanese to me.”
“Is there a difference?” The cold fingers from his free hand reached over to the other side of Yuuri’s face, sliding an index finger across his cheekbone. Only then did Yuuri accidently meet the face of his next owner for the night.
But it wasn’t what he was expecting. There was no grey hair, or greasy skin. No fat fingers, dull, drunk eyes, and putrid breath. The man was elegant looking, ash blond with a skinny face, almost feminine features but still model-like in the structure. His eyes were as blue as the oceans of Yuuri’s hometown, bluer still. Yuuri’s mouth gaped and he couldn’t help but think that maybe tonight wouldn’t be so bad despite it being rather early. The man looked wealthy enough, maybe he’d get a big tip, maybe if Yuuri complied and catered to his every whim this man would return, and he would have less nights with not so attractive company.
Not that he remembered their faces anymore. It’d gotten to the point where they all blurred into one mess. He didn’t try to remember, either, but sometimes they gave him a reason to.
“You’ll do nicely.” He grinned wickedly down at Yuuri, still sprawling, hands out behind him to support his weight as he slowly slipped backwards under the intimidating eye of the taller man.
“I didn’t take you as the type of man who enjoyed the company of other men, Mr. Nikiforov.” Yuuri couldn’t look away, but he could still hear the smirk in Alexei’s voice. The blond spun around quickly, hand still clutching gently to Yuuri’s face.
“Who said he was for me?” There was ice in his tone, and it was obvious Alexei had crossed a line, as he usually did. The man’s smirk faltered, and he cowered back into the doorframe. Who was this man that had Alexei, the man who owned Yuuri’s soul, shaking in his boots? “I’ll take him. My boys will pay you at the door, but we’ll be on our way.” He turned again, fitting his façade back into place.
“What is your name?”
Was this how Russian men usually were to their whores? Gentle with their actions, even softer with their words? Something was wrong. This was not how normal clientele acted. He should’ve started already; Yuuri should’ve been on his knees minutes ago. He gathered his complexion, unsure of the situation but using his skills he had attained these past months that had protected him.
“K-Katsuki Yuuri.”
“Yuuri wa daijōbudesuka?” ‘Is Yuuri okay?’
‘Yes, yes, a thousand times yes!’ he thought in his mind, although he was still unsure of the whole situation. His shoulders relaxed, hearing Japanese, however heavily accented and broken, for the first time in months was like finding an oasis in a desert. Was it a mirage, though?
Yuuri nodded quickly and the piercing eyes softened even further. The large hand left his face, running down the crook of his neck and shoulder, sending shivers down the young man’s spine until he reached his bicep and squeezed lightly.
“My name is Viktor Nikiforov, it is nice to meet you, Yuuri.” He was speaking in English now. “Would you like to come home with me? I promise it’ll be worth your time.” He smiled, almost genuine but slightly pitiful. Yuuri’s mouth formed a small ‘O’, but he managed to nod. His mind was screaming no, but who knew what would happened if he didn’t comply. Especially with a man of this importance to Alexei, he assumed he was some sort of authoritative figure.
Suddenly Viktor leaned forward, soft blond hair brushing against Yuuri’s cheek.
“I think you’ll find that I’m not like your other clients, Katsuki Yuuri.” He whispered, his voice sounded like honey but felt like nails on a chalkboard. He must’ve felt Yuuri go rigid because he pulled back, trying to soothe him with another smile.
“Pack all you need, I will wait outside of the door. Try to bring just the important things, I can get you whatever you need when we get home, but bring something warm for our flight.”
“F-Flight?” He managed to get out.
“Yes. I will be taking you back to Russia with me shortly. It is too much of a hassle to bring an entire wardrobe halfway across the world.” The man stood, towering much higher than Yuuri was, seated across the bed. “I’ll explain a bit more on the ride to the hotel, but I think you should just think about what you need to bring for now.” He said the words like they were the most obvious things in the world, like Yuuri should have known they were going Russia, like Yuuri should’ve known whom he was.
Yuuri managed a slow nod, and got up from the bed slowly, like he was arthritic, as Viktor left he room and shut the door behind him. He went to his chest of drawers and pulled out very flew belongings he had to himself; some jeans, a sweater, a photograph of the sunset in Hasetsu, a hoodie, his wallet, and a few other small items. He put the hoodie on over his shirt and stuffed the rest into a small backpack he had from school. It took mere seconds to reach the door, backpack slung over his shoulder, hand resting gently along the smooth handle. Never before had he opened this door himself, he realized, it had always been opened for him. Maybe things were changing? There’d been so many times he thought about taking his own life, or running away, or trying to tell somebody about what happened, but every time he tried he ended up back at square one; in his bedroom with a man or woman he didn’t know, paying him money he knew would never get him anywhere but a little friendlier with Alexei.
He pushed it opened before he could think, locking eyes with Viktor who was leaning on the pristine white wall across the hallway.
“Is that all you have?” Something flashed across his face, a look of concern possibly? It couldn’t be. Yuuri would be nothing but a slave soon, as he had been for the past months. He could pretend for now that this stranger felt for him and cared for him, he had been playing pretend for quite some time now and had become quite good at it.
“It’s warm here, I didn’t need a lot.” Yuuri shrugged, struggling to keep his voice wavering from nerves. He’d never been good with change. Viktor stepped off the wall and smiled down at him, genuine with no pity, and wrapped an arm around his waist.
“We’ll pick something up before the flight. Shall we be on our way then?”
~~~
The car ride was strange, to say the least. First off, when they left Alexei’s building they were met with two, very large, very Russian men in all black, whom Viktor ignored and didn’t even pay a single glance too. Second, this man of obvious wealth and class was driving a bright pink BMW that had Yuuri almost laughing upon first glance. Thirdly, the man had not touched him or looked at him since he got in the car. Other than a gentle hand on his back as he opened the door for Yuuri and guided him into the passenger seat they’d made no contact whatsoever, apart from Yuuri’s unwavering eyes, slouched back against the passenger door, trying to make sense of the whole situation.
“You have an American accent.”
Yuuri paused, unsure if it was a question or a statement.
“S-Sorry, what?”
“You said your name was ‘Katsuki Yuuri’ , not ‘Yuuri Katsuki’ but you don’t have an accent. How long have you lived in America?” Yuuri squinted, but Viktor did not budge, eyes still on the road.
“Since I was about thirteen.”
“And how old you are now, if that isn’t rude of me to ask?”
Yuuri’s brow furrowed even more, what was happening?
“Seventeen.” Viktor nodded, looking impartial to the information. What was he getting at, exactly? “Why do you ask?” He bit back a rhetorical edge, because Yuuri had an idea of why he asked. Obviously this man didn’t care about the legality of the situation but he probably wanted to know how many years of work he could get out of Yuuri still.
“No need to get defensive,” There was a warning in Viktor’s tone now that had Yuuri regretting he opened his mouth the second time, “I’m simply asking. I want to know more about you. Maybe you’d like to know more about me as well?” The older man turned to him finally, no trace of the edge of his tone from earlier.
“Yes… I-“ He thought carefully about what he was going to say, but Viktor interrupted him again.
“Yuuri, I really don’t want you to be intimidated by me.” Yuuri’s bow furrowed even more, “You’re probably so confused, I just-“ He turned to Yuuri again, “I owe you an explanation, but I’m putting it off because I know you’re not going to be very happy when I tell you.”
Yuuri’s heart sunk. So much for change. So much for starting over. He was going to Russia to do the same work, just for different people. He was going to Russia and that was all that would change. He shouldn’t have let Viktor’s fake kindness get to him like it had, he’d known better.
“Do you know what the Bratva is?”
Yuuri paused in his thoughts, thinking back to all of the old action movies his dad made him watch.
“Like… Mafia?”
“If that’s what you’d like to call it.” Viktor’s gaze was steely now; all of the hardness gone but it wasn’t quite gentle. “Alexei works for the Bratva, money in brothels is bigger here so they asked him to manage some chains in this part of the territory a couple years back.”
“… So now they want to start more business in Russia?”
“No, no, Yuuri.” Viktor chuckled, “It would not be any good for Russia at the moment, there’s no money in that.”
“So you… work for the Bratva?” Yuuri’s heart dropped when Viktor stayed silent.
“I am the Bratva.” His knuckles turned white on the steering wheeling, “ Pakhan. Boss.” Was Viktor really wincing as he told Yuuri this? Did he actually care what Yuuri thought? Regardless of how self-conscious Viktor was feeling, Yuuri still pulled back.
“W-Why me…” he mumbled.
“Because I needed a distraction,” The older man’s eyes were back on the road, steely and cold as ever. “It’s a dull life. It’s a dull life and I couldn’t bring anybody into it without making it worse for them. It was just supposed to be a routine check at Alexei’s but I-“ He reached out and rested his hand on Yuuri’s knee, making him visibly flinch, but Viktor didn’t falter. “I saw you, and how vulnerable you looked, and thought maybe you’d be better off with me. Maybe it would be better for you with me than with Alexei.” Were the other members of the Bratva this compassionate? Yuuri couldn’t help but wonder. If he hadn’t planned on leaving with anybody walking into Alexei’s it meant that the others did not know what Viktor had done. Maybe they wouldn’t ask since he was the Pakhan, but then again maybe they would.
“You could’ve picked anybody.” Yuuri was still stiff as a branch under Viktor’s hand despite his reassurance. “You had the pick of all of the beautiful women in that building but you picked me, why?”
“Do you really think you’re under the position to ask questions?” Viktor snapped back, making Yuuri’s eyes gloss over. He immediately caught himself, pulling his hand off Yuuri’s leg and running it along the hem of his own pants. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry- just…” He ran a hand through his bangs, “I want you to accept what has happened, and I’m so used to just getting what I want when I want it.”
“I am twenty-seven years old, Yuuri. That may not seem like long, but who knows when my last day will be. You have your whole life ahead of you, would it not be nice to spend it with me, to have everything you want rather than make money for the sake of others? I know Alexei’s job is an important one, but I do feel guilty…”
“Tara was fifteen.” Yuuri whispered softly, “You should’ve taken her.”
“But I didn’t. I took you and you’ll have to just live with that. Despite what you may believe, you deserve better. Tara deserves better, yes, but I’m more interested in you. You weren’t all over me like the others, you didn’t belong there.” The car slowed at a red light, noonday sun glistening off the ridiculously pink hood. “Does that make sense to you? Do you understand?”
Yuuri was trying desperately to understand, really, but he was finding it difficult. He nodded a bit, and that seemed good enough for Viktor. He took a deep breath in and out, then opened his mouth to speak to Yuuri again, hesitating slightly.
“Do you mind if I ask you a few more questions now?”
“I-I don’t mind.”
“Thank you, Yuuri.” He reached into a compartment above the mirror and pulled out a pair of expensive looking sunglasses, “How long have you been working for Alexei?”
“About five months.” Viktor hummed in acknowledgement.
“What did you do before that?”
“I went to school.” He straightened his back a bit, no longer feeling the need to hide himself in the leather interior of the seat. “Both of my parents passed when I was fourteen, and my sister and I went to an orphanage just outside of town. My foster parents were not so kind, but I managed for a while.”
“Alexei got a hold of you when you left your foster home?”
Yuuri nodded.
“May I hold your hand, Yuuri?”
The Japanese man looked down at the outstretched hand in front of him, and almost burst into tears. Who was this Viktor Nikiforov, really? There was absolutely no way he was head of the Russian Mafia. When was the last time somebody had even asked to touch Yuuri? He reached out and grabbed it, letting Viktor intertwine their fingers and rest their joined hands on his knee.
“I couldn’t imagine the things that you have gone through to get where you are, but you won’t have to deal with them for much longer.” He pulled into a hotel parking lot pulling up beside the valet sign, “I can assure you.”
~~~
Alexei’s place was fairly nice, and Yuuri had come to appreciate what he had in the time he’d been there, but it was nothing compared to Viktor’s hotel room. It was bigger than any house Yuuri had ever been in, gold accented walls and trimming, with gold chandeliers and marble floors.
“I know it’s a bit impersonal but I quite like it.” Viktor said, noting Yuuri’s awe as they entered the suite. He said something in Russian to the men in black that had followed them in and they left promptly. Yuuri’s breath caught, thinking about what that might entail. Viktor wanted privacy. He asked for something in a language Yuuri barely understood in hopes he wouldn’t hear him ask. Would he want sex? He wasn’t up to it, and he never was, but he really didn’t think he could handle all that right now.
But regardless of what he wanted or could handle, he was prepared, because that’s probably what was coming. He tried to prepare even more as long arms wrapped around his midsection, tugging him a bit closer to Viktor’s front, and lips brushing against his ear.
“Do you like it?” He hummed, tickling the long, overgrown hairs behind Yuuri’s ears.
“I like it a lot. It’s almost too much.”
“Good.” Viktor said, and that was it. The arms unwound themselves from the smaller man’s waist, and hot breath left his ear. “Better than good- Great! I’m glad you like it, my Yuuri. Would you like me to get you anything? Food? Or something to drink? Or I could get out if you’d like, and you can have some time alone.”
“Time… alone?”
“I know this is a lot to take in, you probably just want to sleep or-“ He was cut off by Yuuri latching onto him, arms wrapped tightly around the Russian’s shoulders, and head tucked into the crook of his neck.
“Please don’t go.” The older man was obviously a bit flustered, but he quickly returned the embrace.
“No worries, it’s all about you right now.” Yuuri pulled away, obviously embarrassed by his outburst, but Viktor paid it no mind. “What do you like to eat, Yuuri? I could order you something.”
“Katsudon…”
“Cats-Udon?”
“No, uh, katsudon. It’s like deep-fried pork cutlet, and egg- but don’t worry about it! I- We- You can just get something from the hotel it’s no-“
“Yuuri,” Viktor rubbed reassuringly on his bicep again, “It’s no problem at all, I’m glad you’re loosening up a bit.” He pulled a cell phone out, “Should most Japanese restaurants have it?” Yuuri just nodded, and Viktor tapped the screen of his phone a few times and excused himself.
Alone now, Yuuri could finally take in the full extent of the lavishness of the hotel. He ran his finger along the kitchen table, and when he pulled it up there was no dust. It was immaculate. He wandered to the next room, some sort of living room, and was met with the biggest TV he’d ever seen. He walked right up to it, pressing the button to turn it on. The news immediately flashed onto the screen, showing coverage of some sort of protest going on in a different county. Yuuri stood back in awe, letting himself sit down on the large, orange sofa when the backs of his knees caught on it. Viktor came back into the room moments later, clearing his throat to break Yuuri out of his trance from the TV.
“They should be here within the hour. Is there anything that you have in mind that you’d like to do in the meantime?”
Yuuri shook his head, and pointed at the TV.
“It’s been so long since I’ve gotten to sit down and just watch the news. I have no time.” Viktor leaned over the edge of the couch to get a better look at Yuuri’s awestruck face.
“Is it really that exciting?”
“I didn’t feel like I needed to worry about what was going on, nothing mattered.” Viktor nodded solemnly, like he understood exactly how he felt. He hopped over the back of the couch, mindful of where Yuuri was sitting. It was an action that Yuuri had also not seen for a very long time, and almost made him chuckle and question again if this ridiculous man was really in charge of something, anything, let alone the Bratva.
“Do you mind if I sit beside you?”
“I don’t mind at all.” And he really didn’t. The younger boy couldn’t believe it but he could really care less right now. Viktor settled in, thigh just barely brushing Yuuri’s as he sat back into the couch, arm resting above Yuuri’s head but he didn’t feel crowded in. He flicked back and forth between different news channels, soaking up all the information he could before there was a knock at the door, and Viktor hopped over the back of the couch again to retrieve it. He looked through the peephole, and opened it up, retrieving multiple take-out boxes and shutting the door again.
“Your katsudon is here, where would you like to eat it?”
Yuuri turned around, looking around the room.
“Is there a dining room?”
“Why, of course. Follow me, my Yuuri.”
The table was quite large, probably enough for ten people to sit, but Yuuri sat at the end across from Viktor, feet barely brushing under the table. When he opened his take-out box and broke open his chopsticks, he felt a sudden pang of nostalgia. This didn’t look anything like his mother’s katsudon, and this wasn’t Japan, but it would do.
“This looks delicious! Vkusno!” Viktor exclaimed as he opened his up, “How do you hold the chopsticks again? It’s been a long time since I’ve had to eat with them, I want to know the proper way.” Yuuri broken open Viktor’s chopsticks for him and grabbed his hands, adjusting them to how he should properly hold them. The older man thanked him and took a bite of the food, giving him another quite loud exclamation.
And Yuuri genuinely laughed this time.
Finally digging in, Viktor watching him intently, he came to the conclusion that this katsudon was rather good. Very good. It wasn’t just run-of-the-mill sushi restaurant crap you get from every all-you-can-eat place downtown; this must have been expensive, and authentic.
“Is it alright?”
“More than.” Yuuri stated, giving him a smile, Viktor returning a dazzling one in between. Yuuri was amazed he was so comfortable around him, considering how skeptical he still was of the whole situation, but he pushed those thoughts back now.
“Do you mind if I ask you some questions now?” Yuuri asked between bites. Viktor looked a bit taken aback at his boldness, but nodded and continued to chew his bit of food.
“You’re only twenty-seven, how are you already boss?”
“My father died. In the Bratva it’s a hierarchy based on family, so when he passed, I became Pakhan at 24.”
Yuuri nodded, content with the answer despite the urge to ask about his father.
“What made me stand out? At Alexei’s I mean.”
Viktor set his chopsticks down, resting his head on his hand putting a finger to his lips.
“You were quiet. The rest of them threw themselves at me.” His eyes shone, “Alexei said ‘Don’t worry about him, he’s nothing special.’ But I didn’t want anything special. I just wanted somebody who could adapt to my life, and could blend in with the crowd if they needed to.” He pointed at Yuuri, “But you can do both. Already you’ve shown me that you think you’re nothing special, that you’re not worth it. In the car, even though I could tell you were about to piss your pants you still gave me lip when I was overstepping my boundaries.”
Yuuri opened his mouth to protest, but decided against it.
“You may think you’re nothing special, Katsuki Yuuri, but I think I can prove you wrong.” He finished his last bite, and closed the take-out lid. “Are you finished?” Yuuri nodded, cleaning up his side of the table. Viktor grabbed it, walking over to the large kitchen area to throw out the boxes. “Are you alright with that, Yuuri? With me proving you that you’re worth something? Making you worth something to me? It’s important that you are, I don’t want to see you as just an object.”
Maybe it was supposed to be reassuring but it made Yuuri’s heart ache a little bit. There was no doubt in his mind what this relationship truly was. When he thought about it over his katsudon the words ‘sugar daddy’ came to mind. Despite what Viktor had implied he knew that this is how it would be, and it would probably be nothing more. He shouldn’t be too upset, he reminded himself, he’d take a good-looking, rich Russian over a random stranger looking for a one-night stand any day.
“I would be alright with that, yes, I would be okay with trying-“ he motioned in Viktor’s general vicinity, “ -this out.”
Viktor laughed hardily, “Okay, Yuuri, I’m glad to hear it.” He walked back over to the table and rested his hand gently on Yuuri’s shoulder. “Would you like to go to bed, Yuuri? Tomorrow we have to go get you some warmer clothes, and then we’re flying out to London for a connection, then Moscow.”
Yuuri nodded, and Viktor grabbed his hand, and lead him to one end of the house.
“I’m sure you’d like your privacy, so this is your bedroom. I’m sorry that there’s no lock on the door, but I just want to be safe.” He opened it then pointed to the room further up the hall. “My room is right there. If you need anything come and get me, or would you prefer it if I found my own suite tonight?”
“No, of course not! This is your suite; I’m the one imposing. T-Thank you, Mr. Nikiforov.”
“Oh, pshht- Yuuri! You don’t have to be so formal. Please, call me Viktor.” Yuuri nodded, and Viktor motioned for him to enter. He stepped into the room, setting his backpack down on the bed, and glancing around a few more times to take in the layout of the room.
“Do you have warmer clothes?” Viktor asked him, “Other than your sweatshirt? The blankets are nice but I find I still get chilly in the middle of the night.”
“I’m sure it’ll be fine.”
“I’ll be right back.” Viktor signaled for him to stay put and took off down the hallway, returning with some sweatpants and a crewneck. He set them down on the bed and gave Yuuri a smile, “There’s an ensuite bathroom over there, and if you need to brush your teeth it already has the extra supplies you need. My cousin was supposed to come with me, so the room is already stocked up for somebody to stay in it.” He lingered for a second, obviously wanting something else, so Yuuri did it for him. He wrapped his arms around Viktor’s neck, pulling his chest flush against Viktor’s torso.
“Thank you, Viktor.” The blond wrapped his arms around Yuuri’s midsection, pulling him the smallest bit closer, but obviously not wanting to overstep any bounds. He leaned down and pressed a light kiss to Yuuri’s hairline and stepped back.
“I’ll be down the hall.” He turned on his heels and left the room, but not before sticking his head back in, “Also please remember that my men are in front of both sets of doors, Yuuri, so if you really want to head back at any time-“ He turned around again, “Just let me know, and we won’t have any problems.” He shot over his shoulder, closing the door behind him.
Yuuri was awestruck again. Would he have tried to leave if he didn’t already know Viktor’s men were there? Did he even still want to? It was too much to think about all at once and it had really been a full day already.
He picked up the sweatpants and shirt, running the fabric between his fingers. They were unbelievably soft, as were the sheets and the pillowcases. He changed into them quickly, looking at himself in the mirror after. The sweatpants hung low on his hips and the sweater showed off a bit more collarbone than he usually would, but that was to be expected, Viktor was easily a good three inches taller at least, and quite a bit wider in the shoulders as well.
When he was done, he turned to the large windows on the other side of the room, pulling back the drapes. It was close to 11:30pm but the city was still bustling with activity, but from up here all the cars and people looked like tiny ants. How insignificant it all seemed from up here, how small it all looked. It was an unforgettable sight, and Yuuri didn’t think he’d ever see the city look quite like this ever again.