Archive of Our Own ^beta

Victor Nikiforov

Finally.  Finally I have a free slot in my day. Being the head of art at Hasetsu University pays well but spares barely a moment alone. I'm always doing something, somebody always needs to talk to me; whether it's my staff or my bosses or students. This one hour of the week is the one that no one needs me and I need nobody. It's my peace. Moments like this are so anticipated that I plan what I'm going to do before hand.

This hour is dedicated to men's magazines.  People tend to think I read them for fashion inspiration and while that is true my main motivation are the models themselves. They're all hot. I love to just stare at them and speculate them by my side because I'm a man that's been single for too long and is now thirsts for even a hint of another man.

Relishing in the emptiness of my art class, I exhale and smile, putting my feet up on my desk and shifting in my office chair for maximum comfort. I prefer this class over my lecture hall. I like to be surrounded by traces of art in the form of dried paint and half finished canvases. Then, for the main highlight, I open my fresh issue of Men's international magazine.

Men's international is a fashion mag that has one model from almost every key country on earth, sometimes they sport their countries typical dress and other times they just wear what's in fashion. I have a monthly subscription for the magazine, that's how much I like it. And I like it so much because of one specific model that's in every issue.

His name is Yuuri Katsuki.

Yuuri Katsuki is the man of my dreams, the most beautiful human to walk the earth, compared to him, even the best of us look like common peasants. The man was born to be a supermodel. He's been one of the most famous models in the world ever since he emerged two years ago. Since he's Japanese, and this is Japan, he is literally everywhere. I get to see his beautiful face on bus shelters, on the train, on the front page of celebrity and fashion magazines, in malls and many other places. It's a bitter sweet thing really, I get to see him all the time and I'd do anything just to see him in person but I never will. I'll just have to accept he's like a god compared to me; transcendent, untouchable, and so divine. I like a life of painful attraction.

In fact, he's so divine that he's won hottest model and hottest man alive already. In my opinion he should win every year because damn... he's mind blowingly sexy. It's everything about him; his toned body, his perfectly tanned skin, his godly jawline, his pretty brown eyes, that incredible black hair he has, the way he ties it back into a small bun and leaves some hair out to frame his face, his defined neck and collar bones, his lovely round ass and those tick thighs. He works on me like magic. 

Unfortunately, I don't get to his section in the magazine before the loud slam of my door murders my peace and quiet, making me jump slightly. My surprise quickly turns to annoyance as I look over the top of my magazine, ready to yell at the intruder.

Where I look, eyes hidden by aviator shades look back.

I frown, zooming my vision out and looking at the entirely of the person, it's a man, a man leaning against my door heavily and panting lightly, like he's just finished a run. My eyes move to his hair, he's wearing a man bun and has slightly disshelved strands framing his tanned face.

The magazine slides out of my fingers and my body stops taking oxygen because holy shit I'm looking at Yuuri Katsuki. The super model I could only dream of. 

"Hide me" he exhales, voice as deeper and hotter than it is in interviews.

I suddenly don't comprehend English because I'm too busy not believing that what I'm looking at is real. I'm so obsessed I'm having visions. That has to be it. I've imagined him in my classroom, I've imagined him wearing that navy fitted t-shirt that hugs him in all the right places, I've imagined him in those black jeans held up by a silver buckled belt that probably also hug his ass in all the right places, I've imagined those shades that have celebrity written all over them.

"Hey? Mr teacher" he says, walking toward my desk. He takes his shades off once he reaches it and leans his hands on it. The adolescent thought that I'll never clean my desk again flashes in my mind.

"Please, all I wanted to do is visit my old teacher Mr Feltsman but this girl spotted me and before I knew it a whole pile of girls were chasing me across campus. They're coming, I need you to kindly stuff me in your store room or something for a bit" he rambles, his beautiful brown eyes pleading at me.

My legs fall from the desk as I still stare at him like a gaping fish.

"Oh? You read M.I?" He plucks the magazine from my lap and flicks through pages, "I haven't seen my section yet. I bet it sucks" he chuckles at the pages as he flicks. That brings me back to the real word because nothing Yuuri Katsuki has done has even remotely sucked and I don't know why he would think that.

"Anyway, please hide me" he looks back up at me with those unique brown eyes and the gesture warms my stressed heart.

"Right, follow me" I blurt, getting up and leading him into my supply closet.

"If you had given me a heads up I would have cleaned up a bit" I mention as I turn the light on. I'm a professional at untidiness so my cupboard is packed with stuff, mostly junk that I keep because when it comes to art, I'm a hoarder.

Yuuri laughs. He laughs. He laughs like an angel that fell from heaven to seduce me. Which he is and he has.

"I'll keep it in mind Mr..."

"Nikiforov. Victor Nikiforov." I smile shakily him and offer a hand.  I can't even out stretch it completely, that's how cramped we are in here. Yuuri doesn't seem to mind though, he just returns a dazzling smile and shakes my hand, passing me some of his warmth, letting me feel his flawless skin.

A lot of models you see around don't look as good when you meet them in person. Yuuri isn't like that, they don't Photoshop Yuuri to look like a god. He just is a god. The only thing I'd say is different is that he looks much taller in photographs and TV. He's a nice height though, one where he could embrace me and rest his chin on my shoulder like he belongs there.

"Soo... Does this happen often?" I ask, to fill the silence so my heart won't explode at just how close this supermodel is to me.

"Not really. I think it's because this is a school and I'm from here and this is my home town so people just know and well, must like me" he shrugs with an open and friendly smile. He makes me feel a little more comfortable about conversing with him although not comfortable enough for me to tell him that people obviously like him and he's an idiot to question it.

"You went to this university? I mean, I know you're from Hasetsu but wow"

"Yea. I did a course in photography here... if you know I'm from here you must be more than a causal fan right? I don't mention it much" he looks amused but his eyes are still kind.

"Well... you could say that" I chuckle very nervously. If only he knew how far away from casual I am he would prefer to be devoured by university girls.

"Well Mr Nikiforov you'd be happy to hear that I have a special place in my heart for fans such as yourself." He leans against the wall and dramatically slaps a hand against his thick chest while I die inside. His longer fingers are just touching his exposed collarbone, the one I was fantasising about just minutes ago.

Yuuri seems to realise he's still holding my magazine and occupies himself with it, finding his page and rolling his eyes at it; "I told Pichit this was a stupid pose and the team picked it anyway. Have you seen this?" Laughing quietly, he holds the page in front of my face. It's him in a dark green kimono, eyes piercing the camera, looking absolutely fucking beautiful as usual. As for the pose, it looks like he's running toward the camera with a katana held in front of him, menacing and ready to strike.  He sure is striking my heart in half because my favourite celebrity is right in front of me showing me a stunning picture of himself. 

"I like it. It's powerful" I mumble once I get over how lucky I am right now. Or screwed.

"Oh? You do?," he looks at me, then at the photo again. He shrugs and flicks to the next page, "Alright but this is just embarrassing, we had to shoot it twenty times because I couldn't stop laughing at the stupidity of it" he turns the magazine around and I can't stop my lips from parting in a gasp.

"Scandalous. I know" he lowers the photo from my eyes but it's no problem because the image is burned in my retinas. He was sitting in an oversized bonsai pot, legs more open than required and his kimono was pulled open to show almost all of his immaculate torso. That thick chest centimetres away from me and his six pack there for everybody to see. He looked dishevelled too, like he does now, but in the picture... the way he's looking at the camera, it's like he wants to commit every sexual sin on me when I look at it.

"Chris said I had to show the world my true sex appeal or something" he roles his eyes again, "to tell you the truth, it's not very me" my mouth falls open even more because how can he sexy not be him? I've Googled Japanese sex god and he comes up. Thoroughly. Hell, he probably looks sexy tying his shoelaces.

"You were voted hottest man alive. This year" Is all I can come back with.

"It was very flattering but those things aren't accurate. I know more than one person that's hotter than me. You're hotter than me"

I blink several times, thinking I must have heard him wrong. 

"Sorry. I'll shut up now" he chuckles quietly and shifts his eyes to my white dress shirt.

"You must be jo-"

"Mr Nikiforov!" A girl calls from outside. Both of us freeze. Waiting for what's to come.

"He's not here" another says.

"I was sure we'd find Yu-san here. Mr Nikiforov is hot. Hot people attract other hot people right?"

"See? She thinks you're hot too" Yuuri whispers, stretching those nice lips into a smile. Feeling flustered, I say nothing back and turn away. Feeling red from the neck up.

"Let's try somewhere else" after that girl speaks we hear footsteps and a closing door.

"Give it five minutes." I whisper back in case there near the classroom still.

When I look back at Yuuri he's writing in my magazine with a sharpie. As I lean over to see what it says he slaps it shut and hands it to me with a smirk.

"Well Sir, you have five minutes to tell me about yourself" he leans against the wall again and crosses his arms, posing like it's a photo shoot. It must be hardwired into him.

"Well, I'm the head of art here which is nice because I love art... but it's a little... glass half empty. I'm more for adventure, not lecture halls and teacher meetings." I ramble. I don't really think he was looking for my inner feelings but it's too late now, nerves are nobody's friend.

Yuuri looks to be in deep thought before his eyes light up with a child like gleam, "What if you join my team? It's made up of awesome people and we travel the world! Doesn't it sound like what you need?" He claps his hands together excitedly, like he really wants me to do this. 

My mind quickly creates images; us going to exotic islands, me meeting all the people behind Yuuris success, watching Yuri shoot. It's a fairy tale.

"Um... would I be any use to you?" I blurt. Because I'm stupid.

"Of course! You know about composition and colour theory right? You could help the set designers. You could even model!" His eyes light up even more. In his excitement he's been leaning forward and now he's taken over my personal space. Death seems very imminent. 

"Well... Sure.  Yea" I nod with a smile. What have I got to loose? I have no family here, I'm renting a tiny flat and I've just been offered the opportunity of a lifetime.  How could I say no?

"Awesome! I'll be in Hasetsu for another two weeks so take that time to pack up your stuff. We have this huge house in London and we have space for one more." I nod more frantically this time. I've always been a thrill seeker, moving to London on a spur with the hottest man in the Galaxy is certainly my idea of a thrill.

"Right, I'm going to make a getaway now" he says, reaching for the door.

"Wait," he stops and turns to my voice, "how am I supposed to find you?"

"It's simple. Don't loose that magazine" he points to its place in my hand. What? Did he write the coordinates to his secret base in it? I wouldn't be surprised, he's being so cryptic already.

"Also," he reaches into his pocket, taking his aviator shades out and carefully sliding them on my face, "have these as a promise. They belonged to my mentor and he'll kill me if I loose them. So I'll have to find you" he winks and disappears through the door.

I honestly don't move for the entirety of ten minutes and even then my brain hasn't fully processed what just happened.

When my body finally responds, I step our of the storeroom and open the magazine on the page with that picture of Yuuri on the bonsai that makes steam come out of my ears. In the corner, in messy sharpie writing, it says;

'Thanks for hiding me V' next to it there's a winking face, under it it's his signature, next to his signature it says 'Yu x' and cramped in the very corner is an 079 number.

Holy shit Yuuri Katsuki gave me his mobile number.

Things really are about to change. It's finally time for me to start living my life.