Wasted // victuuri

2

Entering the party, Yuuri was met with his best friends already all occupying the dance floor, drunks off their asses. Even though they may be the bestest friends ever, they were all terrible drunks. But Yuuri has no right to complain, he was the worst of them all.

Phichit sauntered over to the rest of their friends while Yuuri hung back, needing at least three drinks in him to even CONSIDER dancing at such a club.

After ordering a simple beer at the bar, Yuuri looked around the club while he waited.

The music was deafening and the lights, blinding. People were crowding everywhere in the club. Yuuri was thankful that Phichit made him wear contacts or else they would have been knocked off long before now with all the people bumping into him.

Looking around further, Yuuri shuddered as horrible memories came back to him upon looking at a certain object. A stripper pole.

The club wasn't exactly a STRIP club but every Friday, there was a few shows. For many, it was almost like a show as a reward for lasting until the end of the week.

Yuuri, being 18, had actually been offered a job stripping in this particular club but refrained as god knows what would happen if he actually tried sober.

After being handed his beer by the bartender, Yuuri made his way over to get a seat. The rest of his friends dancing, Yuuri watched in amusement as the guys all tried to out-dance the others, even though they all looked like spiders on rolled skates.

Suddenly, something on the stage caught Yuuris eye.

A dancer.

But not just any dancer.

An angel, out of this world.

A man that had silver hair that complimented his pale, flawless face and icy, cold eyes perfectly.

He strutted over to the pole and wrapped his hand around it as Yuuri gulped.

The man danced with such grace yet seemed so dangerous. He was above everyone at this club and he knew it.

The man and Yuuri's eye locked for a split second in which Yuuri could have sworn the man smirked at him. Obviously, Yuuri was an open book in that moment, his face easy to read: lust.

The dance seemed like a haze to Yuuri, even though he had been watching every last second of it intently.

The man hopped of the pole with ease and made his way backstage.

Yuuri had to see him again. He just had to.

Without even thinking, Yuuri downed the rest of his beer and made his way backstage to try and find that gorgeous man.

"Hey! No one except the dancers should be back here" an angry voice sounded from behind Yuuri, making him tense up.

"It's okay Yakov, he's with me." A smooth Russian voice sounded from the side of Yuuri as he felt a hand caress the small of his back.

The man, Yakov, only rolled his eyes and walked away, leaving Yuuri with this beautiful stranger.

"So, what did you want?" The Russian asked.

Yuuri turned to thank the Russian for helping him against that intimidating man but instantly froze up once he realised that this was the man he came for. For the first time in his life, Yuuri's mind went blank and he was left speechless, enthralled by the beauty before him.

The man only giggled.

"Come on sweetheart, my shift is nearly over. I'll buy you a drink, seeing how much you loved the show." He winked at Yuuri.

Yuuri snapped back into action. Well...almost.

"Um, ye-YEAH, let's, um....let's do that." He stuttered, cursing himself every time.

The man, still with his hand on the small of Yuuri's back guided him to the bar, smiling.

And that was the last thing he remembered of the night, the rest of it being a blur of drinks, kisses and sheets.