“Watch where you’re going, fatso!”
Yuuri let out an involuntary gasp when the bucket he’d been carrying crashed to the floor, splashing all over the place. He fell to his knees, as if he could capture the water with his bare hands and stuff it back into the bucket. No such luck. Instead, all he got were sore knees, a wet robe and a healthy dose of taunting laughter from the boy who’d knocked into him.
He looked up to see Yurio there. Yurio who looked absolutely beautiful, as always. Yurio whose pale skin and blue eyes captured the attentions of Guests of all ages, genders and wallet sizes. Yurio, who was Untouchable, but desirable.
“S-sorry,” Yuuri stammered. The angelic face stretched into a cruel smirk.
“Know your place.”
As Yurio walked away, his long, pale-blue robe sashaying behind him, Yuuri found himself wishing again for it to be nighttime. At night, he could just stay in his tiny closet of a room, curled up on the floor, and not have to face people. At night, he felt like less of a waste of time and money. At night, he didn’t have to work – unlike the true residents of the House.
The Courtesans’ work extended deeply into the darkness of the night, long after the sun bid its goodbyes. They entertained, they performed, they fucked; to Yuuri, they were elusive creatures who only existed in the world of luxury.
He, who had been brought into this House with the same expectations, had fallen short due to his nervousness and resulting klutziness. His first time as an apprentice had been marked with disaster quite like what had just happened. Eager to try out an Apprentice for the first time, the superintendent of the district himself had booked his services. He hadn’t taken too kindly to being scalded with tea.
Since then, Yuuri had become little more than a servant. He wasn’t chagrined by it necessarily; he preferred staying out of sight. He wasn’t beautiful, neither was he graceful or smart. Being a Courtesan was for people like Yurio, people like Phichit. People like Viktor.
Yuuri scrambled to clean the water up just as the door slid open into the hallway, and he found himself staring at a pale white leg. A while leg that extended into an equally pale white body of a man whose very presence seemed to change the atmosphere in the room.
Yuuri struggled to keep his head down as Viktor gracefully over the mess and practically floated towards his destination. The Courtesan paid him no attention whatsoever, and Yuuri was perfectly content with that. Goddess knows, if Viktor had so much as looked at him, he would have messed up again somehow.
He carefully mopped up the water on the floor and went back to refill the bucket before finally reaching the front entrance. He was supposed to be scrubbing the porch, which he knew was just an excuse to make him feel like a waste of a person. Nobody used manual labor to clean porches. That was work for the robots, just like cooking and dusting and changing the sheets. But Minako loved seeing him struggle – something about strengthening his character or whatnot. So he cleaned dutifully. His hands were torn to bits with the amount of time he had dipped them into cleaning agents, but that was okay.
Once he was done, he wiped his forehead and emptied the bucket, finally letting the black sleeves of his simple robe fall over his wrists. He deposited the bucket back into the tool shed and then returned to the main building to see the entertainment area illuminated. Of course, Viktor was working tonight.
Without a single droplet of hesitation, Yuuri made a beeline for the corner he usually occupied when Viktor worked. It was a strange hobby that he had – watching Viktor; but he knew that many shared his enthusiasm for the spectacle.
He watched through the crack between the door and the wall as Viktor, dressed in luscious silks of pink and purple, danced for his customers – a group of nine men, seemingly of the government. Viktor’s Guests were the cream of the crop. He had a waiting list of months in advance, and only the most cherished customers got to see him outside of that frame.
Yuuri’s breath hitched as he watched Viktor dance, his hand pressed to his mouth. He was afraid of letting out a single noise, so afraid to be discovered, but his eyes stayed glued to the lithe figure of the Courtesan who had become a living legend. Yuuri remembered being excited when he’d been told he’d be living in the same House as Viktor himself. At the age of sixteen, Viktor’s virginity had been traded away to a member of the Supreme Council, for an undisclosed amount of money that had allowed Minako to expand the House grounds by acres.
Viktor’s performances were never boring, they were never uninspired; every single time he stepped up to pleasure the eyes and bodies of his Guests, he became a living, breathing work of art.
Everything about his screamed grace, and Yuuri found himself wanting to both be him and be with him.
It was a silly thought. Yuuri was not made for greatness; and that was necessary to become close to someone like Viktor.
The music died down, and Yuuri’s eyes widened when he saw Viktor’s robe fall to the floor, exposing his body to the lecherous eyes of his Guests. Goddess, how they looked at him. They were taking him with their very eyes, and one Viktor laughed minutely and sunk down onto the pillows scattered around the dinner table, it was as if Yuuri were witnessing birds of prey rip apart a cadaver.
What a beautiful cadaver he was.
Viktor’s moans reached his ears, accompanied by the monkeyish, unrefined grunts of his custmers, and Yuuri looked away, blushing furiously. He couldn’t stay for this. He wouldn’t be able to walk if he did.
He scrambled to his feet, running for his room. Once his heartbeat slowed down a little, he threw himself on his back and bit his lip, cupping his strained cock. It only took what seemed like a second of stimulation to have him coming with Viktor’s name bitten firmly between his teeth.
It was a hobby he had. Dancing. Though he had made peace with the fact that he would never be able to do it as a Courtesan, he couldn’t keep away from the deserted garden after he’d done his chores. He hitched his black robe so that it would resemble that of a dancer, and rolled his sleeves up, exposing skin.
He touched his worn-down personal assistant’s screen to replay the memory of the night before. The music. Oh, the music that had been played to Viktor’s dance was beautiful, and invited Yuuri to dance. He stopped the memory and then played it again from the start, paying close attention to Viktor’s movements.
They were quite simple; yet there were small nuances here and there that made the entire performance enthralling. Yuuri tried his best to copy Viktor’s movements, closing his eyes once he had the routine committed to memory.
He danced and danced and danced until his feet hurt, bare against the grass of the garden. The sun fell to the horizon, and he reluctantly picked up the PA, switching off the memory he knew he would never be able to delete. He had a whole library stored of Viktor, from the first time he’d played Peeping Tom on one of Viktor’s sessions, until this very day.
He still had to help cook dinner, so he pocketed the PA and let his sleeves and robe back down, dragging his feet all the way to the kitchens.
Yuuko greeted him with her usual enthusiasm and set him to potato-peeling. Today, they would be entertaining some off-planet Guests, which was a huge deal for a House as small as theirs. Yuuri didn’t even need to ask whom they had requested. It was pretty obvious that there was only one point of interest in Hasetsu House.
“I wish Minako gave you a second chance,” Yuuko drawled thoughtfully as she checked on the roast duck in the oven.
“Why would she?” Yuuri replied absently. “You know I’m a nervous mess around people. I can’t even imagine getting naked for them and dancing and doing, you know, other stuff with them.”
His face went red at the memory of the night before.
“You can dance just as well as Viktor does and you know it,” Yuuko said. “You just lack confidence.”
“I’m okay when I dance alone. But with the Guests watching… how am I supposed to ignore that?” Yuuri mumbled. “It’s not going to happen and frankly… I’m okay with that. There are Untouchables who are so much more worthy of becoming Hasetsu Courtesans, anyway.”
“You mean like Yurio?” Yuuko asked with a scoff. “The kid has a terrible attitude. And he’s not going to be ripe for another year.”
“He’s amazing,” Yuuri said dully. “I’ve seen him rehearse. I’m sure he can adjust his attitude too, and then we’ll be looking at Viktor 2.0.”
“There can only be one Viktor and you know it.”
“He’s going to retire one day. Probably purchase his freedom and live as a fancy Lord somewhere off-planet.” Yuuri sighed. He was pretty sure Viktor already had enough money to buy his freedom, given how many wealthy guests he’d entertained. More and more Yuuri was convinced that Viktor just did this for fun now. He loved the attention. He bathed in it. Sometimes, Yuuri thought that Viktor could survive on people’s hungry gazes alone.
“And there will be an empty space waiting to be filled. Too bad about the whole Couresans can't buy Courtesans thing, I'm sure he'd love to get his hands on you when he does become free,” Yuuko said, touching her PA to life. A projection of Yuuri dancing in the garden appeared in thin air, making the young man drop the knife in horror.
“You were watching me?” He hissed at Yuuko, trying to grab her PA. “Erase it, please!”
“Nope,” Yuuko replied, holding it behind her back. “You’re good! Admit you’re good and I will turn it off.”
Yuuri let out a frustrated huff.
“Fine. I’m good. Now will you please delete that?” He asked in a begging voice. He couldn’t have Minako finding out that he danced his days away when he was supposed to be working. The projection stopped and shrank back into Yuuko’s PA.
“Thank you,” Yuuri said forcibly, returning to work. He got the potatoes peeled in record time and as soon as he was done, he shoved them towards Yuuri and ran towards the door.
“What?!” He snapped, tears of humiliation stinging his eyes.
He slammed the door extra hard.
There was no logic to this. One second he was asleep and the other he was probably still dreaming, but seeing a very realistic vision of Viktor himself.
A very naked Viktor, in all his pale, silver glory, his arm stretched out towards him as if he were about to serenade him.
Viktor who apparently knew his name.
“Yuuri,” he said, his voice shimmering, washing over the younger man and making him scramble to his feet, terrified. What was Viktor doing in his tiny room? What was Viktor doing with him? What the hell was Viktor doing?
“Starting today, I will be your Mentor. I will make you the best Courtesan on Earth.”