You Matter⇾Viktor X Yuuri // Yoi Fanfiction

°• cнapтer ѕιх •°

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"Long day?"

The taxi driver asked, not taking his eyes off the road. Boy, he had no idea. "Yeah..." Viktor retorted, unwilling on giving him all the details.
"You're Viktor Nikiforov, right? My wife and I love your skating."
You could basically hear the smile in his voice as he spoke.
"Thank you," Sometimes he himself even forgets how he has so many fans- fans that could be literally anywhere. Not that its a bad thing but It's scary, yet at the same time, comforting. "Do you and your wife watch skating all the time?" He questioned while staring outside at the objects that passed him in a blurred motion. "Well, my wife does more than she should really, I just watch it on my downtime."

The car came to a stop in front of his familiar building. "Welp here you are." Viktor beamed as he remembered he hadn't seen Yuuri all day. He was likely to be sleeping now because he was supposedly sick, but Viktor couldn't help the excitement he began to feel. "Yep! And sorry I can't give you a tip, I don't keep much money on me after practice."
The man chuckled shaking his head, then faced him. "Ah, don't worry about it. Just take my card. I also work with the police force and would be ecstatic if you were to call me instead of my other coworkers. Unlike them, I'm sure I'll get the job done quicker. Especially when it comes to some of the deadliest most common things nowadays; such as murder...." his face grew dark for a second and Viktor couldn't tell if he was smiling or utterly pissed off. "...and kidnap." His face grew again as he finally turned around in his seat to face the platinum-haired man. His turquoise hair and black midnight eyes gleamed with joy and certainty. "Here!" He said with a smile handing Viktor his card. "Have a nice day!"

He glanced at the card a couple times before sliding it into his pocket. It was nothing special in his opinion, and he doubts he'd ever need to even call this guy. The card only stated a few Russian words, his name, and number. Viktor at least took the audacity in learning his name in case they were to inevitably meet again.

Yu-Jin Cho. Was that Korean?

He slowly began peeling off his pants. They felt dirty like someone had rolled in the mud a thousand times with them before he was forced to put them on.

The water hadn't even been warm yet before he immediately stepped in, letting the first freezing water poor onto him followed by scorching hot water and steam.

And as the water fell and burned his fragile skin, he couldn't help but let out a bitter chuckle. How ironic and dramatic he felt he was being. Wasn't this what girls do after being raped? I'm a grown 23-year-old man, I shouldn't need to burn myself to feel better. He isn't here anymore... The Japanese male began to assure himself.

Sure was used and if he were to say he wasn't completely disgusted in himself and his body, Yuuri would surely be lying.

His eyes traveled downward, staring at his beaten body. Hickeys, bruises, and the marks on his ankles stared right back, laughing at him. Yuuri's hurts blurred and finally, his knees gave as he hit the tub floor with a thud. He wasn't dying, he just didn't feel like standing is all. Didn't feel like standing in a shower? I'm so dramatic. He thought.

Thud

What was...

Bark

"Makkachin?" Viktor shouts after hearing the distressed bark of his companion. "Yuuri?! Are you here?" Placing a hand on the storage closest, he pulled it open revealing his lost pet. The brown furred poodle huffed before jumping onto his master. "Okay Makka, down boy. Where's Yuuri?" The poodle licked the Russians' face, thus running away from the closest to their bedroom. The closer he got, the better he understood where Yuuri was supposed to be, but Viktor couldn't seem to figure out why he could possibly be taking a shower now. He's sick. Viktor silently reminded himself as his shoes echoed against the wooden floor.

Finally, Viktor places a slow hand on the bedroom door "Yuuri--" but the room door wouldn't budge and he became wearier. His eyes wandered to his pet then back to the locked door, the only thing holding him back from peeking on his husband in the shower!

The sound of water came to a stop and Viktor rest his head on the door only to hear faint shuffling. After a few minutes, the door clicked open, and something other than him ran into the room. From the other side, there was a faint yelp and another thud like the one from earlier. As Makkachin jumped onto his love as if he hadn't even seen him for the whole day. But surely Yuuri had been here all day. He was sick- the missed text and phone calls would prove that theory true, yet he didn't look sick. He looked tired and a bit startled, maybe even scared.
"Yuuri?..." The smaller male looked up, meeting his husband's gaze with hazel brown eyes. "Y- yes Viktor?" The Russian paused, taking in the sight of this person. In a sense, he looked different. Maybe it was because he hadn't talked to him for most of the day, maybe it was because he just got out the shower, maybe it was the fact he just flat out missed his beloved cute eyes, face, and hair, or maybe...
"You look like you're about to cry..." he blurted.

There was a long pause in the room. Viktor was about to speak again but was interrupted, "Ah, I'm still feeling kind of sick. And like I said earlier, I'm sorry for not replying to any of your text earlier. I just..." Yuuri chocked out a sob. "I, just... Uhm." For a second Viktor couldn't move, he rarely sees Yuuri cry- not since the time at The
Cup of China and this sounds much worse. Viktor wanted to speak, wanted to move, and that, he was about to do. "Yu--" The man laughed and hid his face in all the layers he was wearing, but that also surfaced another question in Viktor's head. Why was he wearing so much? Did he take Makkachan out for another walk recently?
"I really don't get why I'm like this, it was probably something I took. I don't feel very well like I said, s- so can we just sleep?" Viktor watched him force the crying to subside and forces a smile. He didn't like this but decided not to press it.
Viktor furrowed his eyebrows before raising one. "Like that?" Yuuri tilts his head to the left. "With all the layer you have on? You'd likely get hot." He stated, "Well...." There was a slight pause before Yuuri completed his statement, "I'm still not very used to the Russian weather. It's kind of cold for me, plus I'm sick so I want to keep it on if that's okay... I mean if you want to cuddle or something it might be uncomfortable though." The Japanese male said- not once looking at the Russian. Viktor chuckled as he watched his husband yet to move off the floor. "It's fine, but don't stay sick for too long, we have a competition in a few weeks. If I'm going to be your competitor and lover than you to have to stay fit in order to surpass me- well that is if you can." Yuuri's head shot up in a mad pouted frenzy, "you'll have to try and surpass me! And I'll be the one on the special spot this time, Vitya!" He shouted playfully and winked. Viktor simply laughed at that and smiled back, by which turned into a mischievous smirk. "Yuuurii~" He coed as Yuuri now got to his feet. "You know, you'll always have a special spot in me... " He said smoothly slowly stepping closer to his husband, the large amounts of clothing he had on, now seeming to be aggravating. "Is it on your bald spot?" Yuuri asked with no emotion, and Viktor stopped dead in his tracks.
To say he wasn't hurt was an understatement.

After that, they didn't speak and Viktor poutily passed Yuuri and threw his clothing on the floor before slipping into bed. Yuuri slowly joined him and Viktor huffed before sliding further away.

"Yuuri?

Why was Makkachin in the closet?"

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Words: 1416