Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"Fuck off Viktor," Yuri growled, huffing as his hair fell in his face. Again. "I've already told you, I think it's stupid."

From where he sat perched on the threadbare sofa, Viktor whined. Yuri could just see his stupid pout without even turning around. He always wore that stupid fucking pout when he didn't get his way. Just like a child. He's three years older than me, shouldn't he act like it!

"Yurio," Viktor complained, that stupid nickname rolling off his tongue without a second thought. Never even caring that Yuri constantly complained about him using it. "You seem to think everything is stupid, have you ever considered that perhaps it isn't me, but instead, it is in fact, you?"

Pushing his blond hair out of his eyes even though he knew it was destined to just fall back in his face again, Yuri turned to glare at the boy. "Viktor, I'm not going to read your shitty poetry. For the last time!" Leave me alone, I don't care.

"It's not poetry, it's a song," Viktor complained. Because of course he'd bother with the minute details like that. He got so picky when it came to his stupid songs. "How long have you lived with us Yurio?"

"To long," Yuri muttered under his breath, hating that Viktor would bring up this argument in particular. It was not only his shittiest but his inadvertently cruelest as well. Yuri despised him for it.

"How long Kitten, too long is not an answer," Viktor chided, wagging one long finger disapprovingly. Blue eyes watched him expectantly, as if clearly this was a perfectly normal exchange and Yuri was simply a slow student or something.

Clenching his jaw, Yuri spat, "Two years." at the silver-haired boy.

"And when have I ever written poetry?" Viktor asked, raising an eyebrow.

Cursing at the irritating creature in a mix of Russian and English that he was fully aware the man understood, Yuri snapped, "Alright, I fucking get it. It's not poetry, it's music. I still don't give a fuck."

Viktor sighed and his long hair fell around his face as he put his head down. "I'm not even asking you to read it Yurio, I want you to listen to it."

"I don't want to listen to you read it!" Yuri exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air before turning over in the armchair and attempting to block the man out. "I get that you think you're some sort of fucking genius or something but don't drag me into this." Under his breath, Yuri added, "I liked you better when I only had to deal with you every other day."

"But Yurio," Viktor wailed. "You like music!" Again, a pathetic argument.

"Not that much," Yuri protested hotly. "Not enough to listen to your stupid song."

"But you play the bass guitar," Viktor argued reasonably. "And you're really very good at it Yurio, especially for a fourteen year old, why are you so stubborn about this?"

"Because I like listening to music that's already been written, not your crappy idea of music," Yuri growled. "Leave me alone Viktor, you're being an asshole." He was, that much Yuri wasn't exaggerating.

Ignoring the last comment, Viktor said, "But I've heard you playing original music Yurio, what is that then?" He tilted his head. "That means you like to create Yurio, you must be honest with yourself."

Flushing angrily, annoyed that Viktor had been spying on him, Yuri snapped, "I don't do it often, okay! And it wasn't even that interesting, I was just bored. And this doesn't change the fact that I don't want to listen to your fucking song!"

"What if I told you it was singing?" Viktor tried and Yuri could feel his overly reasonable blue eyes boring into the back of his neck. "Would that make it any better?"

"I don't want to listen to you sing Viktor, you'll sound stupid."

"But it has music!" Viktor insisted, and suddenly, Yuri became aware of the fact that the man was smiling in that way he did when he knew something everyone else didn't. It irked him. "Please just listen to it for a moment."

Deciding that he wasn't going to get out of this, no matter what he fucking said, Yuri snapped, "Fucking alright! Just leave me alone after this."

With a grin, Viktor pulled over his crappy laptop and clicked a button. Goddamnit, he knew I was going to cave. That fucking- Then the music started and Yuuri bolted upright. "That tune!" he nearly yelled, staring at Viktor who wore a proud smirk. "Those chords, that's-" Turning red with fury, Yuri spat, "That's the stupid fucking music I came up with!"

"Shhh, Kitten, you won't be able to hear it," Viktor chided, winking.

Falling silent, more due to the fact he was entirely stunned than any desire to listen to something Viktor had composed, Yuri's mouth hung open as he listened. It was definitely his music, he was pretty sure it was actually him playing. More than that, he didn't sound half bad.

Neither, he realized, did Viktor, though he'd never say it out loud. The boy had always had a musical voice and nothing, not even puberty, had managed to strip him of it. But Yuri had never recognized how good it was until he was listening to it meld and flow with his own playing. Staring up at Viktor, Yuri shut his mouth resolutely and simply watched the boy as the rest of the song played out.

"What in the ever living fuck was that?" Yuri asked, his sage green eyes narrowed.

"It was music Yurio," Viktor said simply, though the look on his face was one of absolute pride. Getting off the couch so he could dance in a happy circle, Viktor exclaimed, "I've been working on it for the past few weeks, it's called Eros and Agape, do you like it?"

Though the word no was on the tip of his tongue, Yuri's traitorous mind had other ideas. "Yes." Oh yes well done, feed his ego. But he couldn't stop himself. "Though it would sound better if I was playing that for real and you didn't have to cut it up to make it fit."

Viktor's eyes lit up and Yuri instantly knew that he had forfeited his right to be pissed about this. "Would you Yurio," Viktor asked, his hair swirling around his shoulders as he spun to a stop. "For me?"

"Not for you," Yuri snapped, glowering. "For myself."

Viktor smirked unexpectedly. "That was the right answer Kitten."

Four hours later, Yuri's fingers throbbed, his throat hurt and his mind was spinning. He'd actually had fun. Usually Viktor only managed to piss him off, his presense intolerable for more than an hour, but this had been different. Yuri felt like he'd accomplished something and he didn't even care that it was stupid because it felt good.

They'd played Viktor's song for a while, tweaking it and making it sound like something. Yuri was good enough on base that he was able to pick up and change a tune relatively quickly. Due to that skill, he'd been able to keep up with Viktor's mile per minute way of going about everything without breaking a sweat. Viktor, by the same token, seemed to change a bit when he focused on something like music and therefore, his personality hadn't been so grating.

One song had become two, which had become three. Viktor had a lot of ideas and Yuri had a lot of built up pressure in his head that playing music had released some of. It had worked.

Still, he was glad for the break.

Hunching his shoulders against the stiff chill of the Oryol night, Yuri sighed. Honestly, he hadn't felt this good in a long time. It was a nice change from the nightmare his life had turned into. Maybe Viktor's not all bad…

They'd known each other since Yuri was five. Viktor had been a happy idiot that got on his nerves, even at that age. Yuri had been a surly child who didn't really want to have to deal with his horse shit. Somehow though, they'd struck up a fast friendship.

Viktor was an oddball. His parents, whoever they were, had left him on the doorstep of Yakov and Lilia Feltsman with nothing but a last name, Nikiforov. Despite this he'd grown up to be a normal child, not really the type to care one way or another how he came to be, simply willing to be happy he existed. Yuri didn't like it, but that was mostly just a result of Yuri finding most things annoying.

They'd been friends for years, up until the tragic deaths of Yuri's parents. With no other living relatives and no place to go, Viktor's parents had take him in willingly. Yuri had spent the past two years angry at the world. Even Viktor, someone who he considered a safe thing to trust, had become too much.

Yet this, this music thing, it felt different. Yuri felt different. Almost like pouring his heart out into playing bass and singing backup for Viktor was an outlet. Who cared if it was childish, who cared if he was only fourteen and this was stupid, it made him feel better. Less angry at everything, more calm.

So maybe he can sing and maybe I can play. Maybe this is what I needed.

He might as well give it a chance.

It's not like it's going to go anywhere.

6 years later

"We've got a show everybody, look alive!" Viktor called irritatingly, already standing in the middle of the dressing room ready to go. His silver hair was styled back from his face on the right, leaving his side bangs to hang down to just over his left eye and the sunglasses he was wearing. The makeup he had on looked mildly ridiculous but for this particular tour, they were all going with a bit of a darker look.

We should probably tune it down. We look like drug addicts...

All in all, Viktor looked, as far as Yuri was concerned, like an idiot. Unfortunately, the rest of the world seemed to think he looked devastatingly attractive. Yuri had long since accepted that he wasn't going to win this one.

"Viktor," Christophe said, pouting from where he sat, finishing up with his mascara. It would have been funny, but Yuri had to put it on as well so he couldn't fully enjoy how ridiculous the others looked. "You don't need to beat us over the head with it, we know."

"This is the first show of the tour," JJ pointed out, grinning as he spun around on the single rotating chair in the room. He too had already donned his sunglasses, and was attempting to look over them in a sexy way which in Yuri's opinion, made him look like an asshole. "But we're going to do awesome! Or at least I am." He grinned and Yuri scoffed, returning to his task of applying his eyeliner.

Christophe gasped. "JJ, you wound me, assuming I won't do far better than you could ever hope to."

"Haha, you wish Chirs. I think you're just jealous!"

"Ladies," Viktor lilted, laughing musically. "You both play beautifully. We're going to do fine tonight." He glanced over at Yuri, who furiously started blending his eyemakeup. "Wouldn't you agree Kitten?"

"Fuck off." Yuri always got more peevish when it came to performances. He'd never once been nervous but he was definitely on a shorter fuse. Viktor only ever made it more intolerable. Deeming his dramatic makeup to be enough, the short blond turned in his chair and flounced over to the clothing rack, from which he withdrew a dark purple blazer.

Stupid Viktor and his dumb ideas for color palettes and clothing. Not that he looked bad or anything. In his ripped tank top and tight pants, Yuri looked rather hot. Sexy even. Definitely on par with the rest of the band who all were wearing various variations of the same idea. Lots of dark colors, lots of tight pants and ripped shirts. They looked a tad ridiculous, but… Viktor did ridiculous and the rest of them sort of went along for the ride.

"Uh oh," JJ crooned. "Looks like someone has their claws out." Elbowing Yuri in the side playfully as he reached for his own overcoat, the man teased, "Aren't you going to lighten up?"

"No!" Yuri snapped, irritable. The other band members laughed, but that was to be expected. They were all used to each other and after five years of playing together, the others were as scared of Yuri's temper as they were annoyed at Viktor's flightiness. It was just a fact and they lived with it.

But even with his ruffled feathers, Yuri's irritation evaporated the moment a stage tech poked their head through the door and said, "You're on in ten. Are you ready?"

Looking his friends over, Viktor smiled easily. "I think we are."

As they walked, Yuri trailed behind. This would mark the beginning of their second tour of Europe, the first one having ended a year ago. The History Makers, as they'd collectively elected to be called, had been rising in popularity since the moment their first album hit the shelves, Born to Be Legend. This tour would mark the debut of their second album, Welcome to the Madness.

Yuri was honestly rather pleased with the whole thing, seeing as he'd played a major part in writing many of the songs, even going so far as to work on the lyrics of some of them. Whereas the last album had been entirely Viktor's in terms of the writing and a good portion of the music, this one had something of Yuri in it and it showed. It was definitely harder than the usual music they played and it had a bit more flair to it.

And now they were going to be out there performing it and though Yuri was mostly full of annoyance at every little thing, he was also excited. He was tired of them being so claustrophobically pure, he liked this slight modification to their image. Finally, something he could excel at. Anger. And, if others had anything to say about it, possibly something a little more sexual.

But hey, Yuri could handle that too. Probably. He wasn't an angel after all. If their legions of adoring fans were any indication, he was definitely doing something right.

Abandoning his childish reflections at the door as he put on his own pair of sunglasses, Yuri stepped backstage after Christophe and started mentally preparing himself. Not that he particularly needed to, he'd been ready for hours. The screaming of the crowd, which years ago when they'd started this, he'd assumed would annoy him, only made his bones thrum with anticipation.

As they ran through their pre-show checks, making sure everything was working, making sure there mics were in place, generally getting all the last minutes jitters out of their systems, Yuri was silent. He usually was, only feeling the need to jump in when someone made a stupid-ass comment that demanded to be called out as such. Other than that, he just listened to the roar of the crowd and the rush of blood in his own ears.

After he turned on his equipment, he wouldn't be able to hear anything but his band mates and his own music. So Yuri just listened. That's for us. Of course logically it was mostly for Viktor but they were all under the spotlight so the man soaked it in regardless. And to think I used to believe that this was a stupid dream. Heh, it's almost funny.

Then one of the sound crew came around and called, "Okay, everything's up and running. You're on in one. Good luck!" Viktor naturally gave the man a thumbs up, Christophe smiled lazily and JJ grinned. Yuri just faced forward and switched on his earpiece, ready for this to start.

As the curtain rose, Viktor called out his usual greeting to the crowd. Yuri ignored him, instead holding his head up high and staring out over the crowd. Everyone was screaming, though Yuri couldn't hear a bit of it. He could see their thousands of upturned faces through the glare of the spotlights though. The looks of adoration and excitement were palpably real.

Then Christophe started the beat to their first song and Yuri's focus snapped into place like a rubber band.

His fingers moved, no danced as he poured his soul into the music. All of the pent up emotion that had been building within him left him in a rush, making way for the pure adrenaline that took it's place. Yuri's body moved without any conscious thought as Viktor's singing and the playing of his friends filled him. They sounded good. Hell, they sounded excellent and the people below them were loving it.

Yuri's eyes swept the crowd again from behind his sunglasses. His voice carried behind Viktor's as the man sang, joining in with his friends as he provided backup vocals. All of it, Yuri did without hardly thinking. He didn't need to think, this was where he belonged.

Then something caught his eye, something that made him faulter in his singing imperceptibly.

A pair of dark eyes watching him from the front row.

The man was tall, expressionless but for the way his eyebrows knit together as if he were focusing intently on what was happening. The girl next to him, a younger sibling perhaps, had her eyes fixed on Viktor and was screaming but the man just stared at Yuri. In the extreme shadows cast by the spotlight, his hard face was thrown into contrast, making the man look even more intense than he would have looked already. His eyes seemed to lock with Yuri's at once and though Yuri might have been imagining things, the man's mouth twitched ever so slightly.

In turn, Yuri suddenly found himself unable to breathe.

Yuri was used to being watched, he was on a stage after all, of course people would be watching him, but he'd never been watched like that. With such a single minded intensity that seemed to be taking Yuri apart piece by piece. Or perhaps just taking my clothing off piece by piece. Yuri, who had never really cared much for that particular brand of attention found his jacket suddenly becoming unbearably hot. Holy shit, I'm attracted to him. He's fucking attractive and he keeps staring at me like he wants to eat me. What the hell?

There was a good reason behind his shock. Yuri had never really found someone attractive before. He could appreciate beauty in general but no one that he'd actually met had managed to garner a physical response. Viktor had done his best to find someone Yuri would find attractive, somehow deciding that Yuri's love life was his concern. He'd tried to figure out what his preference was, giving him pretty much every option there was out there. Girls, guys, something in between, neither, Yuri had wanted none of it.

Mostly, it was because he thought people were fucking annoying and only a very few were tolerable. He had no desire to get close to any of them and the idea of doing so for nothing more than a one-night stand in a seedy hotel room was not his idea of a good time. Nope, he'd gladly leave that to his friends.

It totally wasn't because Yuri had deep rooted trust issues about everyone leaving him after his parents had died, preventing him from ever actually letting people in or performing any act more intimate than a hug. No, Viktor was full of shit for even suggesting such a thing.

So the fact that Yuri was staring at this stranger and suddenly wondering if maybe the idea of being eaten wasn't quite so bad was a huge fucking deal. See, suck it Viktor, I'm not Asexual after all! He just was apparently attracted to dark, intimidating, intense yet very sexy men…

Without meaning to, Yuri found himself playing to the stranger, as if just by his music he could understand what the hell was wrong with him and possible what the hell was up with the person staring at him. Though he typically liked to scan the crowd, finding this was most enjoyed, Yuri couldn't take his eyes off the perfect stranger in the front row seats. He felt like all the fire in his veins had been focused and condensed down to a point, and at the center were those dark eyes fixed on him.

He probably realizes I'm staring. The thought exhilarated Yuri and he found himself acting up a bit. At first it was a simple lowering of the lashes but at the point where Viktor had deemed they could removed their coats, Yuri did so in a purposely taunting way, almost as if he were commanding the man to watch him. Undress me, watch me, want me.

God what am I doing? Seeing as he had nothing to go off of, Yuri literally had no idea. He just acted, every movement becoming gradually more decadent, debauched. Still powerful and in time with the music but at the same time, intentionally tantalizing.

I don't even know this guy and I might as well be dancing on his lap for how subtle I'm being.

But whatever objections Yuri's mind could conjure up, nothing could have stopped him from feeling a rush of blood to his lower body when the man tilted his head back ever so slightly and lowered his lashes, as if taunting Yuri right back, daring him to try to pull him in. Like he couldn't resist, Yuuri's green eyes blazed under the spotlights and he bared his teeth in a dangerous grin. What do I even think I'm doing, I probably look fucking stupid right now. Shit.

But as his hair shifted away from his face, despite his hairspray and attempts to tame it, Yuri could feel the stranger's eyes raking over him, pulling at his clothes and demanding Yuri simply surrender. How he could get all this from a simple stare was a bit amazing, but Yuri wasn't one to imagine things and this man hadn't taken his eyes off of him for the entire show.

And if he wants a show, I'm going to fucking give him one.

Oh yeah, Yuri was probably just high off of adrenaline. Intoxicated by the thinly veiled want in the other man's gaze and his own thudding heart. Normally, he wasn't an exibitionist but it wasn't really out in public if the rest of the world had started to fade away, just leaving the two of them to stare at each other and take each other apart.

As the show drew to a close, Yuri could feel it all culminating at a peak. What a shame I'll never see him again, Yuri thought, distinctly disappointed. That emotion however suddenly flared into a crazy sort of determination. So why not make him remember me?

Though it wasn't scripted and doubtless Viktor would be at least a little bit annoyed later on, as the last song drew to an epic close, Yuri pulled the stupid-ass sunglasses off his face and threw them directly at the stranger. It was crazy thing, seeing the crowd go wild in response to his stunt and then feeling his heart go wild as the man caught the glasses in a raised hand before putting them on and staring at Yuri through them with a look that set his entire body on fire.

Holy shit.

The roaring of the crowd nearly deafened him as he shut the equipment off.

Holy shit.

With that dark smoldering stare still fixed on him, the stranger let one eye close in a wink.

Holy mother fucking shit.

The lights went out, and the show ended in a avalanche of cheering.

Meanwhile, Yuri just tried to figure out what the hell he'd just done and why he didn't regret it at all.

Shit…

Chapter Text

“That was perfect!” Viktor was praising, laughing as the rest of his friends followed him in piling into the limo. “We blew them away tonight, no? I can hardly believe how much better we’ve gotten.” Turning, he glanced back at Yuri, who slowly climbed into the limo, a slightly shellshocked look on his face. “You too Yurio, who knew our little Kitten could be such a tiger when he chose to be~”

“That was really something,” Christophe agreed, leaning on JJ’s shoulder with a grin. The Canadian simply rolled his eyes at the other man’s antics. “You were selling that dark, wild vibe Yurio, I didn’t realize you had it in you.” Wiggling his eyebrows, he teasingly asked, “Thinking of anyone in particular~”

Yuri simply glanced at him with something caught between a blank expression and a glare. Numbly, he flipped the Swissman off. It was about all he could do, considering.

Holy shiiiiittttt… His mind was still reeling and he hadn’t been able to figure out if that was a good thing or not. It’s one thing to eye-fuck a stranger, it’s another thing to be asked about it later. Because that’s what it had been, Yuri wasn’t an idiot. Who was he? He hadn’t seemed interested in the show, just Yuri. Just me…

“Come on Yuri,” JJ said, laughing. “Are you just going to ignore us? You look like you swallowed an egg.” Forcing himself out of his daze, Yuri glared at the Canadian man for real, the eye makeup he still had on adding to the effect. Tipping his head back over the seat, JJ guffawed. “Now you see, that’s the expression we’re used to.”

Leaning over the seat towards were Yuri sat, literally as far away from the other idiots as possible, Viktor gave him a mournful look. “Aren’t you at least a little bit proud of that performance Yurio? You certainly gave the fans something to scream about tonight~”

“The sunglasses trick was certainly something,” JJ agreed enthusiastically. “I’d say do it again but I like this being a one time thing. Oh!” He bounced in his seat, disrupting Christophe’s perch. “You should leave them off for the rest of the tour, since you threw them away, right?” He grinned, as if this were the most genius idea yet.

Christophe hummed and tilted his head. “He has a point, it would be interesting, no? Give them something to squeal over.”

“I mean,” JJ continued, pulling out his phone and displaying it to the other band members eagerly. “It’s already all over Twitter, everyone’s talking about it.” Scrolling through the ever increasing number of tweets, he showed that indeed all of them were obsessing over the performance and more specifically, Yuri’s careless actions. God, I really need to never do that again.

With a groan, Yuri snapped, “Who gives a shit! It was impulsive, I’m not repeating it.” Heh, because that stranger won’t be there to catch them, right? Furious with himself and struggling not to let that heady feeling of being able to capture someone’s attention to that degree creep back into his mind, Yuri crossed his arms and glared out the limo window.

“Yurio!” Viktor exclaimed, clapping a hand over his mouth, his eyes dancing behind his own sunglasses, ones he still hadn’t bothered to take off. “Are you embarrassed Kitten?” He sounded far to delighted about this. Lunging towards him, Viktor threw his arms around the boy, who instantly started struggling to get away. “You’re so cute!”

Shoving the man off, Yuri squawked, “Get off of me you featherbrained idiot, you’re disgusting!” Viktor just laughed, knowing, or at least assuming, that somewhere underneath all that disgruntled behavior, Yuri didn’t actually despise him. “I am not cute!”

When the other three only laughed, Yuri simply huffed and glared at the window again. “Whatever, I’m tired of this. Let’s go back to the hotel.” He was ready to get out of the stupid outfit he was wearing. None of them had bothered to change after the show -though the others had been smart enough to get rid of their makeup- they had been too busy meeting fans and generally being assaulted by their overblown obsession.

Yuri, who usually allowed himself to be squealed over and adored by the throngs of people who came to watch them, had been distracted and irritable. The one person he’d been hoping to see, a certain tall, dark haired man, had been missing from the scene entirely. It shouldn’t have thrown him so much but Yuri was still irritated. Spends an entire show undressing me with his eyes and then he just fucking vanishes, figures.

All he really wanted was a shower and maybe some food, that would be great.

Unfortunately, Christophe interjected, ruining Yuri’s hopes of simply just getting out of there and forgetting the entire night entirely. Not that I can, fucking hell, that was not what I was expecting. “Not so fast, I thought we had an agreement about where we’d end up tonight~” Running a hand through his sandy blond hair, he grinned. “I recall getting drunk being in the agenda Nikiforov, was I being lied to?”

“No, we are getting wasted tonight,” JJ said, looking pointedly at Viktor. “There is no other option. It’s a tradition, we can’t screw it up.”

“It’s not a tradition if we’ve only done it once!” Yuri argued, hoping that they’d just forget about it before-

“YES! WE MUST!” Shit… Viktor clapped his hands together like a child, not a twenty three year old whose face was quite possibly one of the most well known in Europe as of that year. Typical idiot, I hate it when he does stuff like this. “It is, after all, the most fun part.”

“Then it’s decided,” Christophe said, clapping his hands together, a delighted look in his bright green eyes. “We’re off to the bar!”

~

God, one more minute and I’ll go crazy. Currently, Yuri sat in the middle of a throng of people, all of them laughing and drinking and gushing about the band. Viktor had several pretty girls hanging off of him, JJ was laughing with someone about something he couldn’t pick up on and Christophe was flirting with a guy who looked like a male model. Fuck, I’m so sick of this shit. Glaring down at his glass, which was half full of whisky, Yuri grunted in irritation. This isn’t helping.

With every bit of alcohol he consumed, Yuri felt another bit of tension build in his gut. He needed to let it out but all he could think of was the stranger from their performance and then he was left back at square one. Pushing his blond hair out of his eyes, Yuri glared at Viktor, who merely perked up and winked at him, a delighted look on his face.

Idiot, why are we even doing this? They were at a rather mediocre place, all things being honest. Probably, it was because the rest of the band liked to go places their fans could conceivably meet them at. Whereas Yuri would have rather avoided the paparazzi like the plague, the others seemed to enjoy the attention immensely. Especially JJ and Viktor, who seemed to feed off the energy like parasites.

Scoffing, Yuri stared back down at his drink. He wasn’t even drunk yet, which would have made the night at least partially bearable. Hell, he was just barely tipsy. With a growl, Yuri shoved the remaining whiskey away from himself in irritation. Usually he’d be able to at least sort of enjoy himself, tonight though, his mind was moving too fast for this.

All I really want, Yuri thought, staring around the room for something to alleviate his boredom. Is to know who that man was. With his devastating stare and his taunting expression… Yuri had been enthralled, now he felt irritably empty, needing something but not allowed to have it. I wanted that man, but I’ll never see him again so what does it matter.

Staring back at his friends, Yuri sunk his nails into the palm of his right hand and muttered under his breath, “Fucking idiots.” That’s what they were, he wasn’t about to be kind over the matter. Besides, over the thumping music, they couldn’t even hear him..

Shit, this is going to make my head start hurting… Growing more and more antsy by the second, Yuri stared towards the door. He shouldn’t leave, it would mean figuring out transportation back to the hotel alone and he didn’t even want to go back anymore. All he wanted was to get peacefully drunk without having a random girl (and more than one guy) try to hit on him every few minutes.

He felt this was a perfectly good reason to ditch his friends.

But what really was the straw that broke the camel's back was when the song Forget to Forget started playing over the sound system in the bar. Making a sound of disgust as the sounds of Viktor singing filtered through the speakers, Yuri slid off the chair and started for the door. He didn’t care if the others were left wondering where he was, he just needed to get out and have some time alone to think.

The moment the cool Barcelona air hit his face, Yuri was able to take a deep breath. That place hadn’t been good for him, with all the people and the thoughts swirling in his head. Here, at least he could think clearly. Without Viktor and the others annoying him, without thoughts of the stranger- Oh fuck, nevermind.

Now that his mind was filled with silence, the memories of what had happened hit him and he groaned. It just makes too much sense that the first person I actually find attractive is some mysterious stranger in the crowd of one of my shows. It was so fitting and yet it pissed him off because he was twenty and dammit he was tired of being looked at as the pure little fairy of the band. This is just pathetic, I can’t believe I’m thinking about things like this.

Walking briskly down the dark street, Yuri pulled out his phone and quickly looked up another bar, one that was a little more classy and a lot less crowded. It didn’t take long to find, even better, it wasn’t that far away. Crossing his arms and wishing once more that he’d thought to change, Yuri ducked his head and started for the other bar.

By the time he’d gotten there, he was really ready for another drink. He was only tipsy but if he had anything to say about that, it would quickly change. As he waltzed through the doors with all the grace and allure he usually carried himself with, Yuri settled at a stool at the bar and snapped his fingers and looked pointedly towards the bartender.

Giving Yuri’s frankly ridiculous makeup a once over, the bartender greeted and asked, “What’ll it be?”

Running thin fingers through his blond hair, leaving it a mess, Yuri muttered, “Something strong, I don’t give a fuck.” His crude language didn't quite match the establishment, but he could care less. Glaring at the table, Yuri silently wished the people around him would stop staring at him. He didn’t want to be noticed, he didn’t need his own paparazzi after him.

Staring at the drink that thumped against the table in front of him, Yuri downed the alcohol within in several large swallows before letting the glass clatter back to the counter. He just wanted to get drunk, he just wanted to stop thinking about the attractive stranger from earlier. But the alcohol only seemed to be making the situation worse as his imagination began to run away from him. Hands, slipping over skin, nails, clawing at toned arms, eyes, full of enough power to kill…

Ah fuck, I’m only going to see him once. I have to get a grip.

With a sigh, Yuri held his glass up and waited for the bartender to come over and refill his cup. Whatever, I’ll get over it. I’m just not used to this yet. Sometimes, he wondered if he’d just skipped the usual hormonal teenager phase, it was times like this where Yuri felt like he’d only prolonged the inevitable.

It doesn't matter. It’s nothing I can’t han..d...le….

His thoughts stuttered to an abrupt stop as he looked across the bar and his eyes met a familiar, dark gaze. Wait, what the fuck!? It was the stranger from earlier. Yuri felt himself unable to look away as the man lifted his own glass to his lips and took a very slow sip. In this light, he could see the man better. His complexion spoke faintly of Arabia but Yuri had spent too much time in Russia to miss the other clear influences of his features. His hair was dark, short, undercut and ruffled, like he’d run his fingers through it recently. But it was the smoldering intensity of his gaze that drew Yuri in like a riptide.

Spending a moment just trying to catch the breath he’d just lost, Yuri caught sight of his sunglasses tucked into the breast pocket of the man’s leather jacket and instantly all he’d felt on stage came flooding back to fill his bones. All the latent desire, the heated looks and the daring way he had taunted the man. Already halfway drunk like he was, Yuri was having a hard time telling himself that he didn’t like the way he was being watched, like the rest of the world was simply an inconvenience.

So do it, go be the only thing he ever wants to see.

Unable to resist that small voice in the back of his head, the blond slipped off his barstool and slowly, sexually even, waltzed up towards where the man was sitting. Suddenly he was glad that he’d kept the tight pants and ripped tank top on, they complimented the feeling churning in his gut very well. That’s it, stare at me. Letting that drunk part of him take over, Yuri easily slid into the seat beside the man so he could stare into the man’s eyes.

Dark dark brown, almost black. Fucking hot…

Without out any preamble, Yuri said, “You.”

Expression unchanging, the man tilted his head back a fraction of an inch before saying, “You.”

Feeling his heart rate kick up another notch, Yuri lowered his eyes and said, “You were staring at me.” He wasn’t sure why he brought it up, but he felt like it was important.

“You were staring back,” the man pointed out, before his lips twitched into a small smirk. “And you seemed to like it.” Fuck, his voice~ I must be more drunk than I thought.

“But why were you doing it?” Yuri challenged, eyes flickering over the toned arms and the strong jaw. This was what he most wanted to know, the only rational question he could muster. Because while he’d enjoyed being watched, he needed to know the motivations behind it. Is he just fucking with me or what?

The smirk grew, touched his eyes and left him looking so damn tempting that it was all Yuri could do to keep himself still. I’m turning into a monster. “Because you looked intoxicating,” he said, the accent in his voice adding something to the words that made Yuri shiver. “And you still do.”

Oh fuck me…

Literally.

But that wasn’t the right answer, even his inebriated mind knew this. So instead he tilted his chin up and cockily said, “I know that.” The man chuckled, clearly amused by his answer. Emboldened, Yuri shifted forward, liking the fact that he was in sole possession of this man’s attention. “So are you going to give me your name?”

The man’s eyes swept over him once more, again with that breathtaking intensity, before he cocked an eyebrow. “Otabek. And you need no introduction,” the man continued, staring at Yuri like he wanted nothing more than to take him apart. “Yuri.”

At the sound of his name rolling off Otabek’s tongue, Yuri purred softly. He makes it sound erotic, fuck, how does he make it sound like that? It’s a fucking name.

Before he could figure this out, or possibly say it out loud, the bartender passed by and Otabek beckoned him over with all the airs of someone who was used to having people listen to him. But unlike some people on whom that would appear conceited, on this man it just added to the power that seemed to Yuri’s drunk mind to emanate off of him in waves. “Another drink,” he said, voice low and clear. “And whatever he wants.”

Which was as good as an invitation to stay in Yuri’s mind.

Actually, if he was being completely honest with himself and the usual implications of buying someone a drink, it probably meant a whole lot more.

Calling out his own order to the bartender, something hard enough to tip him from simply intoxicated into fully drunk, Yuri caught the look Otabek was giving him. It wasn’t exactly subtle, the way his eyes dragged over Yuri’s body, lingering in all the right places for just that right amount of too long before continuing to undress him mentally. Almost more drunk off the attention than the actual alcohol, Yuri taunted, “What? Didn’t get enough of me earlier?”

Otabek’s eyes met his and fuck he wasn’t even pretending to be ashamed of being caught, he just said, “No,” as if it had been a serious question demanding a serious answer. When the man reached out, Yuri couldn’t even begin to summon the wherewithal to attempt to disguise the shiver that ran through him as Otabek brushed a lock of Yuri’s hair out of his face. The way he got closer didn’t help either. “But then, that would be very hard to do.”

Even though Yuri would have sworn up and down that it was a flirtatious statement, it didn't sound like it at all. The way Otabek said it, it sounded like a fact he was just stating. Somehow, he found that so much more preferable. Everyone lavishes me with compliments, he says it like it’s not even up for debate. “I wonder what it would take to make you tired of me,” Yuri wondered aloud, tipping his head up.

With a dark rumble of mirth, Otabek’s finger twitched under Yuri’s chin. The blond's breath shortened as Otabek leaned in closer and murmured, “That sounded like an invitation Yuri~” That name, on his lips, sinful.

Though it made his heart rate kick up another notch, Yuri managed to breathe, “Maybe it was.” Otabek’s lips curled up in what was possibly the most arousing smirk ever. It animated his dark eyes and it promised something so debauched yet so so good that the risk was clearly worth it. The fire that it sent racing through the blond left his already constrictive pants feeling uncomfortable tight. Holy mother of all that is good in the world, I want this man. What is going on?

Then the bartender slapped their drinks against the counter, breaking the spell over them for a moment while doing nothing to dispel the thrumming tension. I'm actually going to do this, aren't I? The thought left him excited, yet undeniably nervous. Needing to quell that feeling, Yuri grabbed for his drink and downed half of it at once. It burned going down but he relished the feeling all the same. If I wasn't so inexperienced… But he was, so he'd just have to fake it because there was no way in hell he was going to tell Otabek he had no idea what he was doing.

I know how to handle myself.

The look Otabek gave him at that moment made Yuri feel like the man could see right through him. “So how did you end up in a place like this?” he asked, as if this was an entirely normal conversation. There was nothing on Otabek’s face to give Yuri a hint as to what this question was pointing towards, so he answered, biting his lip slightly as he did so.

“Nikiforov and the others were annoying.” His bottom lip slipped from between his teeth and he sighed, shifting in his seat. “I wasn’t interested in dealing with them.” Should I say it? Fuck, am I being too forward? Too annoying? Yuri forced himself to focus on the glass between his slender fingers as he added, “I had other things on my mind.”

Another laugh. Though he blamed it entirely on the alcohol, Yuri’s cheeks flushed at that dark and promising sound. “Honestly,” Otabek commented, his own hands curled around the sturdy glass of his own drink. “That was the idea. It was only fair, after how distracted you left me.”

Heart leaping, Yuri fought to keep his expression tamed. Fuck, how can he say things like that without batting an eye? “Oh?” he asked, finishing up the last of his drink before looking up at Otabek. Hardly even thinking, he shifted forward, closer to the magnetic presence that just kept dragging him in. “And what were you thinking about?”

Again Yuri found himself caught in an intesne stare that wouldn’t let him go. “You,” Otabek stated, the word sending shivers down the blond’s spine. “About the way you moved, about the way you played, about the way your very presence dared me to keep watching.” Yuri couldn’t even begin to draw breath as the words slipped from the man’s mouth. The air seemed to thicken, heat till it was almost unbearable, yet all he wanted to do was close that infuriating distance between them.

What is he doing to me? How is he doing this to me?

“So tell me Yuri,” Otabek’s fingers lifted again and with all the deliberateness that seemed to fill everything this man did, he dragged the calloused pad of his thumb over Yuri’s bottom lip before tilting his chin up. “What did you mean when you stared at me like that?”

Fuck. Oh fuck. Oh fuck.

And though he would have never said the words sober, couldn’t believe he was saying them now, especially in the low purr he uttered them with, Yuri narrowed his eyes daringly and told the dark man, “I wanted you to take me apart.” Then, because he couldn’t help it, Yuri’s mouth turned up in a smirk of his own. “What are you going to do about it?”

“Do you really want to know?” Otabek rumbled, each word marking another inch of space that seemed to vanish from between them. Yuri’s entire body thrummed with desire and all Otabek seemed to do was make it worse. Fuck, what does he think he's doing, teasing me like this?

Otabek leaned in, close enough that his lips almost brushed Yuri's ear. “I want to pin you underneath me and tease you till you're begging for me. I want to make you scream my name till it hurts to sing. I want to watch that perfect face as you lose control entirely. So Yuri,” that heady voice breathed. “What do you want?”

As all the blood in his body rushed south, Yuri all but groaned, “You.”