saviour • viktuuri ✔️

THIRTEEN

YOU'RE IN LOVE WITH A PSYCHO
🥀KASABIAN

yuri's blood-stained red socks lay discarded on the back porch whilst said dark-haired, painfully pretty psycho slipped out a vinyl of the beach boys.

"it's old, i know," yuri said with a smile to victor, as "i get around" started to play. victor watched yuri dance for him a little while longer, between the two yellow leather couches, swinging his hips lightly in time with the music.

"i love it," victor said, and yuri turned around and smiled at him breathlessly, hair in his eyes.

"we'll need to burn the carpet," he said, chewing his bottom lip and maintaining that enchanting sparkle in his eyes - rather like one of victor's mother's expensive wine glasses. victor nodded. yuri took him by the hand, and spun around him in time with the music.

"do you want to fuck me?"
he asked, with dark chocolate lustre eyes and insane cherry lips. a small voice piped up in victor's broken head that it was wrong for him to be turned on by yuri right then - boyfriend in the basement, boyfriend in the hall - but god, he was.

"you're staring at my thighs," yuri said, stepping forwards to straddle victor on the couch where he now sat. he kissed his cheek softly, then tilts his head and bit victor's ear. "is that a yes?"

victor felt that sunshine happiness that was no doubt borderline madness creep over his hands and didn't - not for one minute - regret nodding.

"scream real loud," yuri whispered, kissing victor's forehead before taking him by the hand and leading him upstairs, "because i really hate that boyfriend of yours."

victor wondered if he really was insane, because it was damn obvious at the sight of yuri laying on the bedsheets wearing only a yellow tee and red lace panties that yuri was absolutely fucking crazy. and victor loved it. victor loved him.

that vinyl was still going around and around downstairs, on the record player not too far from where phichit lay like a broken doll dipped in red paint. it all started off much slower than before -

"i want to fucking you apart"

- but soon it was just as lipstick blood red as before, yuri on his back and kissing victor so hard it hurt and felt so damned good whilst he thrust into him, grabbing yuri's thighs so hard he left bruises instead of hickeys. it felt so good to have him like this - his, so close, crazy and mad and pretty and fucking terrifying - and the tap in victor's had screaminf a million different things over each other at once was overpowered by the pleasure victor was feeling and the growling need for him to -

"say my name," victor moaned in a low, strained whisper, pushing into yuri until he could feel him arching his yellow leather back and dragging his nails up victor's back. yuri moaned in response, laughing breathlessly, wincing a little, giving victor that dark, seductive, fucking terrifying look that he'd seen before on a boy in a black hoodie sucking a cherry lollipop months ago.

the need was overpowering. every fucking thing that chris, mr delaney, anya, whoever had done to him was so fucking pitiful now that yuri was making him happy, happy, fucking crazily happy.

"say my name," victor said again, with more force, and pinned down yuri's wrist. yuri looked at him like a defiantly beautiful maniac, and waited until he could tell victor couldn't take it anymore before he whispered his name. every muscle in victor's body tensed and flashes of cherry red and smudged pink lips, dark shining hair and creased bright yellow shirts flashed before his eyes like warning signs as he came.