M.O.N.E.Y • viktuuri ✔️

92.| sweet

APOCALYPSE
CIGARETTES AFTER SEX

"it's late," yuri katsuki said, standing in the hallway of victor nikiforov's big, expensive white house he had bought in japan "just for the fucking hell of it." he was wearing a dun coloured felt coat, black jeans that weren't ripped at the knees, and a honey coloured tee. victor leant against the hall wall, and was glad the front door was closed because it meant he couldn't see those same streetlights that had lit up the streets when the dark-haired boy in front of him had walked away without looking back once.

"it is late," was all victor could think of saying, pulling apart the cigarette pack in his trouser pocket, before yuri headed down the hall toward the kitchen. victor followed him, breath held still as bathwater in his chest, unsure of where in hell to begin.

turning on the light, he saw yuri with a bottle of white wine in his hand, and a glass with a thin, delicate stem in the other. yuri turned his head to face victor, and gave him a knowing half-smile.

"you still haven't drunk any of it," he said with a slight laugh, gesturing to the bottle before pouring white wine into the bare glass in his hand. "you hate it, don't you? some gift or something that you can't be bothered to throw away, huh."

he swallowed, sighed, and set down the glass. victor took his hands out of his pockets, and made himself smile for something to do.

all he wanted to do was reach out and touch him.

"you're right," victor muttered, head going back against he wall as he watched yuri lean against the counter with the glass in his hand catching the bright ceiling lights, "i hate white wine."

"because it's too sweet," yuri said, voice getting a little softer, and swallows the last of the wine in his glass, "isn't that why?"

victor nodded, and yuri laughed after a pause that threatened to make victor scream; god, he just wanted things to go back to a week before, to be able to look at him, to talk to him -

he just wanted to be able to touch him.

"go on then," yuri smiled, a teasing smile that reminded victor of the boy with dark hair in a cropped top who looked at him with chocolate eyes and asked "how much?"

"go on what?" victor asked, having to clear his throat because his voice seemed to have slipped away; god, he couldn't believe that yuri was standing so close to him, after those two weeks. yuri tapped his fingers on the counter, and victor saw that his nails weren't painted lilac anymore.

"say something about how i'm as sweet as the wine," yuri said, shaking dark, dark hair that was still so soft out of his eyes. "sounds like something you'd have said to me a month ago."

he smiled, and victor laughed and shook his head, but then came the silence, and yuri drank straight out of the bottle sitting on the counter.

"it's new, right?" victor said, nodding at the coat. yuri gave a nod, soft lips whose cut had finally healed tainted with the white wine victor hated. "i preferred the black one. the thin one."

"is that so?"

"hm."

yuri set down the bottle with a click against the marble countertop, before he ran a hand through his hair and laughed gently.