VICTOR NIKIFOROV FINDS YAKUZA YUURI HOT AS HELL
Victor sipped his Aunt Roberta, brain too focussed on avoiding eye contact with the older man in the lounge on the opposite side of the club from where Victor sat at the bar, across the crowded dance floor, to truly appreciate the taste of the expensive beverage.
It wasn’t that he wasn’t enjoying the attention, but this game of chase was surprisingly fun.
“I can’t believe you are even considering this.” Chris whispered into his ear from his perch next to Victor, for what felt like the hundredth time. Victor didn’t bother responding this time.
Chris won’t understand, anyway.
From the corner of his eye, Victor watched Yuuri lean forward, resting his elbows on his knees in interest as an admittedly gorgeous brunette in a skimpy, sheer dress passed by the couches he and his company occupied. Unwarranted, a thick, choking coil of jealousy rose within the Russian, making his jaw tense, teeth clenching tight within his mouth. Almost immediately, Yuuri’s eyes were rising to meet his own, mouth curling into a smug smirk at the look of Victor’s face. The Japanese man lifted a neatly plucked eyebrow before dismissing Victor for the blonde, Japanese boy by his side, who had very nearly crawled into Yuuri’s lap now.
Victor seethed, and felt his half-hard cock give an interested twitch.
“He is fucking mafia! He has dealings with Plisetsky’s gang! You really don’t wanna get into this mess, Victor!”
Victor really, really did.
The guy down two stools on Victor’s left had been trying to gain his attention with a charming smile and shy waves that Victor pointedly ignored, all the time Victor and Chris had been seated at the bar. He was sort of cute, nice, respectful and probably didn’t have a criminal background.
Victor couldn’t be less interested.
It was sort of sickening, he thought as he watched the dim, sensual lighting of the club colour Yuuri a particular shade of sexy Victor has never seen before, that everything Chris, Georgi, and any other sane person abhorred Yuuri for was a part of what attracted Victor to him. He was willing to bet the blonde boy with the red highlights stroking the side of Yuuri’s face as Yuuri’s eyes ran up and down Victor’s body instead had no idea who Yuuri was, what he did. If he were to find out, he would run so fast and never look back at Yuuri, Victor imagined.
But Victor won’t.
And that was why it was him who should be in Yuuri’s arms right now, straddling his thighs and caressing his face. That boy didn’t deserve a sliver of Yuuri’s attention, cowardly little bitch that he no doubt was.
Yuuri’s lips trailed up the side of the boy’s neck, and his eyes never left Victor’s.
This game had been going on all night, ever since Yuuri had caught sight of Victor openly admiring his body from across the club. He had sat back on his sofa with a smirk, spread his legs apart, making Victor lick his lips, and then proceeded to ignore Victor for the next fifteen minutes.
Miffed and so, so turned on, Victor had decided he wasn’t going to leave the club without Yuuri that night.
Victor threw his drink back, and tossed his hair over his shoulder before haughtily turning away from Yuuri, and focussing on his friend instead, simultaneously signalling for the bartender to bring him another Roberta.
“Yakuza.” He muttered.
“What?” Chris crinkled his brow just in time with the drop in the song blaring in the club just then. It made Victor smile a little.
“He’s Yakuza. Not mafia.”
Next to him, Chris groaned and said something else about how Victor had to be insane.
Victor’s fingers drummed against the bar top, and he bunched them into a fist. A little while longer, he told himself. He couldn’t turn yet.
A very rough snippet from my latest AU