M.O.N.E.Y • viktuuri ✔️

8.| chocolate

victor slumped forward in the taxi, straightening the collar of his shirt and new silky black jacket.

"someone splashed out," chris teased, and jj snickered by victor's side as the taxi pulled up outside a block of flats that seemed almost silver in the reflected moonlight.

the three of them got into the elevator, and could hear the music pumping from georgi's apartment on the top floor from two floors below.

his apartment was a penthouse like chris's, but much, much larger. georgi's family was new money, and their wealth was the only reason he had even started a career in figure-skating. you could tell by the suits that he wore and the hairstyle he had that money was a novelty to him, as it had been for victor, but things were not spiralling downwards for georgi as they were for the other russian with the silver hair.

victor immediately pushed past those who drew closer to him, marvelling and batting their eyelashes at the victor nikiforov, and made his way to the pristine, white counter-topped kitchen to find the wine.

"you're in a hurry to get wasted," jj murmured, and victor only laughed.

"yeah. life is short, kid."

the music was of a worse taste than that played at chris's late party; something which victor made a note of as he uncorked the bottle and took a swig. his found his eyes searching for the dark haired boy, katsudon, yuri katsuki, but he gave up when he was met only with the bodies clad in expensive clothing dancing in their clichéd seductive way with each other.

victor leant back against the nearby wall, ready for the second stage of the night to come early, and looking for jj with his small plastic bag of white sugar that victor had supplied this time around.

that is until he saw a small, dark haired boy under the lilac strobe lights, in a pastel blue tube top and ripped black jeans with a thin choker around his neck.

"katsudon," he called out, and saw the boy turn to face him from amidst the fug of alcohol and intoxicants and imminent sex he was surrounded by.

"vnikiforov," he countered, surprising victor by coming over to stand next to him. "fancy you being here."

"small world," he replied, pulling out his lighter and offering yuri a cigarette.

"i'll pass," he said, eyes shining in the darkness of georgi popovich's living room. he smirked at victor and shook his head a little, looking away.

"what?" victor asked.

"are you on a path to self destruction?" yuri asked, gesturing at the cigarette and shaking his head once again.
"how cliché for a celebrity like you."

"a celebrity like me?" victor said, amused, and yuri just straightened out his tube top, exposing his abdominal muscles and pretending not to catch victor looking.

"you know. famous from a young age. destined to end up a hot mess of a junkie in a nice suit with good hair. the usual. so original."

"hot mess?" victor asked suavely, but yuri just laughed out, although it wa hard for victor to hear as the music had been turned up full blast.

"trying to flirt with me? cut it, nikiforov, and tell me how much you're willing to pay. then you can flirt with me all you want."

yuri gave him a sideways glance, biting his bottom lip every so slightly, and victor was surprised at how he went all hot under the collar of his white shirt.

"i'm not paying you for sex, yuri," victor muttered with a smirk on his chapped lips, cigarette smouldering in between his pale fingers. yuri fixed his choker and brushed the hair back from his forehead, which victor couldn't help but notice.