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Omerta

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Yuuri swallowed hard as he finished tying the blue tie loosely around his neck and smoothed out the half-buttoned white dress shirt. Glitter coated his skin and his slicked back raven locks. If someone had told him that this would be what would stare back at him in the mirror in the future, he would have laughed. Perfume swirled around his nostrils in an overwhelming manner, his nose wiggling in disgust.

 

“Eros, you’re on in five.”

 

Turning his head just slightly he nodded in acknowledgement. He’d been doing this forsix months now, but it never seemed to get any easier. Not really. It was more of just going through the motions as he zoned out on stage. Most of the women had to work harder and get up-close and personal with a lot of the clients to make money, but Yuuri had been lucky. Men lusted after him from afar and still threw yen his way.

 

If you called that lucky, anyway.

 

This time last year he had been on his way to the Grand Prix of Figure Skating. He hadn’t had the greatest performance of his career, but it had been his first time and he knew he could improve and come back stronger the next year. That was until he had to give up everything. The onsen hadn’t been doing well, but was frequented by a handful of known Yakuza. They had offered to bail out the onsen, but there was a high debt to still be paid. Business had improved. It wasn’t enough.

 

Sucking in a breath through his nose he gave himself a final look over in the mirror before turning and heading towards the stage. The female dancer that had just performed stepped off, money in hand, and he closed his eyes to center himself. Payment was due in two days. Tonight was busy and would be the best chance he had in collecting what they needed. He had to put on a good performance.

 

His name was called and his usual music started to play. Gathering his courage he stepped through the curtain and let his vision glaze over while he went through the motions. Shake the hips, lick his lips, and make those tips. Moving towards the pole he placed his back to it and slowly started to dance his way down it popping another button on his shirt for good measure. Over the music he could hear the cat calls and the lewd comments already being made while he was still dressed.

 

After working the pole just a bit longer to build up anticipation he began to slowly move his hands up and down his chest and undid the remaining buttons. Wiggling his hips down the pole he pulled the tails free from his slacks and threw the fabric off his shoulders leading to loud whistles. Shimmying out of the shirt he let it drop to the ground and ran his palms up and down his bare chest.

 

For a brief moment he allowed himself to focus and his eyes caught blue.

 

A soft gasp left his lips and he could feel himself pause briefly in his dance. The man was clearly a foreigner with eyes like the ocean and silver hair. Unlike the other patrons he was not situated close to the stage and showed no indication of getting up and moving. His legs were neatly crossed and his index finger was pressed against his lips in concentration.

 

He was far too beautiful to be in a place like this.

 

Stepping back into his routine he hooked his thumbs in his waistband and tugged off the slacks leaving him a pair of sequined black hot pants. His legs were very toned from his time skating and always drew quite the crowd at their reveal. With his brown eyes locked on this strange foreigner he moved into the harder portion of his routine. The man looked like had money with that expensive suit. Maybe he could pull in some cash catering to him.

 

Using his strong muscles he climbed up the pole and wrapped his thick thighs around the metal before slowly lowering himself backwards, his taut torso stretched long for the viewers to admire. His stomach wasn’t as muscled as some of the other dancers - there was definitely a softness to it - but he knew he looked good like this. Slowly he allowed himself to slide down, eyes never leaving the man in hopes he could draw him in.

 

He didn’t move.

 

Reaching the bottom Yuuri sighed inwardly and grabbed the bottom of the pole with his hands before releasing his grip with his legs and easily lowering himself into a split. So much for that idea. After a few more spins and his signature z-seat the music ended and he was collecting his money on his hands and knees. He couldn’t help but flick his gaze up once more to the man who was still seated firmly in the velvet chair. For a moment, Yuuri thought he might just be a mannequin.

 

Shoving the extra cash into the band of his pants he rose to his feet and move swiftly off the stage so that the next dancer could take the light. One of the security guards handed him his discarded garments on the way back to his spot in the dressing room. Pooling together the yen in a pile he began to count it. It wasn’t even half of what he needed. Cursing, he shoved it away in his drawer with a loud slam. Fucking cheap crowd tonight, apparently. He’d have to beg someone to let him take their shift tomorrow if there was any hope of making it up. Sure, he had one more slot up on stage, but it was close to closing time when the crowd was either non-existent or too drunk to bother.

 

“Hey, Eros.”

 

Yuuri turned his head towards Goro, his favorite security guard. He was the only one that seemed to really care about the safety of the dancers rather than just treating it as some job. “Hai?

 

Goro was sporting an unusual frown. “There’s a gentleman out here asking for you.”

 

Blinking, Yuuri responded with a frown of his own. Everyone knew he didn’t accept private dances, especially Goro. They brought in the most money, but Yuuri just hadn’t been able to bring himself to do it. Dancing on stage was shameful enough. “You know I don’t do private dances, Goro.”

 

That only caused his frown to deepen. “I know. I said that but...he seemed rather insistent, and the boss told us to do whatever these men asked while they were here.”

 

Yuuri’s back straightened at that. Although the owner of the establishment wasn’t Yakuza, he was a friend. That man...he must have been mafia. Swallowing hard Yuuri turned his gaze down to his hands. They were shaking. He couldn’t say no to this and he and Goro both knew that. Reaching for his shirt he slipped his arms back into it, leaving it unbuttoned and trudged towards Goro and the curtain with his eyes cast down in silent nervousness. Maybe, there was even a bit of fear there.

 

It wasn’t pity that Goro looked at him with, but it might as well have been. The man at least followed him to the private room before he slipped away back to his normal duties. Yuuri sucked in a breath when he looked up and saw the silver-haired man up close sitting just as he had before but this time on a large velvet sofa. He was even more incredible up close.

 

Finally, he moved, waving away the two suited men who were standing near him. Jun, the security guard that managed the private showings to make sure no one got handsy, also left. Yuuri could feel his heart begin to race.

 

“Eros…,” The man spoke softly, a clear accent. “You’ll forgive me, my Japanese could still use a bit of work. Do you speak English?” Russian. Yuuri recognized the accent, now. It had been one he had heard often when he used to skate.

 

With a small nod he answered, “Yes.” This man’s gaze made him want to shrink in on himself, but those eyes also wanted to make him do nothing but drown in blue.

 

The man stretched his arms out on the back of the couch. “I was informed you don’t normally do private dances. Why is that?” Instinctively, Yuuri shrunk in on himself, one arm reaching up to latch on to the other as if to cover himself. The man smiled. “Ah, you’re shy. Not very conducive for someone in your profession. I would think you’d choose another line of work.”

 

“I didn't choose it!” Yuuri snapped, much harsher than he had intended, eyes widening in realization of his mistake.

 

The man only chuckled. “Of course...you need money, right? A sick family member, school, debt…Wouldn’t doing private dances help you get that money?”

 

Yuuri turned his gaze away, his cheeks turning red in embarrassment. “I’m not...people wouldn’t really want me anyway.”

 

With curious eyes the man looked him up and down fully several times, a slight flick of his tongue against his lips. “Tell me...Eros...are you a virgin?”

 

His gut reaction was to gasp and blush madly, and that was exactly what happened despite his best efforts. Maybe at least, that would cause the man to turn him away, ask for someone more experienced.

 

Instead, his pupils only seemed to dilate more with lust as he leaned forward. Reaching into the inside pocket of his jacket he pulled out a very large wad of yen and tossed it on the end-table. “I have a lot of money, Eros. Dance for me.”

 

There was something in his tone that was not an invitation, but a demand. His pulse was drumming so strong he could feel it in his throat, his breathing becoming stuttered. When he tried to move his body stayed put, completely frozen.

 

“Eros,” the man’s tone was soft but his eyes were hard. “Come. Here.”

 

The order had Yuuri springing forward and he was straddling the man’s lap, wrapping his hands around his neck. Even though he was shaking he sent himself into his performance daze, refusing to look into those eyes as he slowly began to grind himself against the Russian.

 

There was a moan as the man’s head fell back and his hands moved to Yuuri’s muscled thighs. Brown eyes grew incredibly wide at the touch and he stopped moving immediately. There was no touching. There was no touching ! But Jun was not there. There was no one to stop him.

 

Harsh nails dug into his skin suddenly in warning and he continued to grind, his own fingers digging into the fabric of the couch as he tried to keep the growing panic under control. Hands slid up across his ass and up under his shirt exploring every inch of Yuuri’s hot skin. Yuuri was relying only on what he had seen the other dancers do, and he feared it wouldn’t be enough to satisfy the man beneath him. Hot breath breathed against his neck and a sharp shiver travelled up his spine.

 

The Russian must have noticed because he chuckled. “Oh...you like that? Come on, E-ros,” he dragged out the name like a plea before diving his hands beneath the spandex hot pants and squeezing Yuuri’s ass.

 

Yuuri yelped, his hips being forced forward. One hand stayed where it was and the other moved to his hair, roughly yanking his head back so that he was forced to look at those blue eyes.

 

“I want to hear you moan, Eros,” he breathed, grip loosening and fingertips trailing down his cheek to his lips were he shoved in a thumb.

 

Yuuri tried, but any sound wound up in a ball in the middle of his throat refusing to travel any further. His tongue was forced to press against the digit and the man’s eyelids fluttered at the touch. Pulling it out, he ran the pad against his bottom lip leaving a trail of saliva before moving his hand down to Yuuri’s chest and brushing against a nipple.

 

Yuuri moaned, much to his dismay.

 

“That’s it,” the Russian purred, both hands back on his ass and encouraging him to rock his hips in steady motions again.

 

Yuuri could feel the man’s hardness beneath the cloth, and his eyes grew wide in horror at the realization of just what this was - what this man expected him to do for the money on the end table. His heartbeat was too loud, his breathing was growing out of control. The panic was just too much and with both hands he pushed against the man’s chest and flew off of his lap. “I-I’m sorry, I can’t do this.”

 

Those eyes that stared at him were unforgiving. “Do you know who I am?” Yuuri shook his head, feeling the fear grow overwhelming in his stomach. “My name is Viktor Nikiforov. My family is head of the Russian mafia.”

 

A hand flew to his mouth, Yuuri doing everything he could to keep himself from vomiting right there. Mafia. He had been right.

 

“It would be very,” Viktor sucked in a breath, “Unwise for you to refuse me, Eros.”

 

Hot tears stung at the corner of Yuuri’s eyes. “Why…?” His voice was barely audible in the shadows. “Why would you want me? I’m inexperienced. Surely you could-,”

 

“Anyone can go out on the streets and purchase a cheap whore, Eros,” Viktor said, cutting him off. “But purity...that,” an animalistic grin danced across his lips, “Is very hard to come by.” With softened eyes he settled back into the couch. “Come now, don’t look so scared. I hardly came prepared to fuck you. Men take far more care than women in that regard. But,” hands travelled down to his belt and began to unbuckle, “I’m not paying you for nothing. You understand.” Palming himself through his trousers he grinned, “Plus, a mouth like that shouldn’t go wasted.”

 

Yuuri could feel the hot trails of wetness fall down his cheeks. This is what it must feel like to be in a zoo, he thought. To be locked in a cage with no way out and to do nothing but entertain spectators. He could try and run. Viktor would likely do nothing immediate. But he’d learn his real name. He’d find his family. And…

 

With the weight of heavy dread in each step he moved forward and allowed the hopelessness to drag him down to his knees with anything but grace. Like a cheshire cat Viktor smirked above him and widened his legs in invitation. Bracing his hands on the Russian’s thighs he leaned forward and licked a stripe across the clothed member earning him a soft moan. Yuuri had never given anyone a blowjob in his life, but he’d watched porn. It would just have to do.

 

With trembling fingers he reached up and unfastened the button and slowly slid down the zipper. Swallowing he paused, giving himself one last time to try and back out of this, but Viktor’s fingers were in his hair and he knew it was too late. A hand slid under the fabric and pulled out rock hard flesh. Viktor gasped above him and his fingers tightened in his hair. He was thick and long, heavy and hot in Yuuri’s hand.

 

Biting his lip in uncertainty of his next move he began to idly stroke. Viktor allowed it for a moment, but his patience quickly wore thin as he tugged Yuuri’s face forward, his nose brushing against the silver curls at the base of his cock. Squeezing his eyes shut Yuuri opened his mouth and slowly took Viktor in. The Russian let out a loud moan and thrust his hips up causing Yuuri to gasp in surprise and pull off.

 

“Sorry,” Viktor murmured in amusement, but lacking any sincerity. “I forgot for a moment that you’re the virgin here.”

 

Curling his free hand into a fist he focused on the pain of his nails digging into his palm as he swallowed Viktor down again and began bobbing his head. It was an unexpected taste in the way it tasted like nothing at all. Viktor was incredibly vocal above him as he swirled a tongue across the slit tasting salt. With a gasp of air he pulled off with a pop needing to breathe. A trail of spit still linked his lips to the head of Viktor’s cock and that was apparently too much for the Russian.

 

“Fuck, look at you, Eros,” he moaned as he rolled his hips into the air. “You’re doing so well.”

 

It was completely unwanted praise, but Yuuri felt himself react to it regardless. With a little more courage he sucked Viktor back into the heat of his mouth and tried to go deeper. Encouraging hands were on his head, pushing him further down. The more he licked and sucked the saltier the taste started to get and that fear found its way into Yuuri’s chest again. But, he kept bobbing in a steady rhythm, occasionally surfacing for air.

 

Viktor twitched beneath him, but kept his hips steady through his moans and whimpers. “Eros, Eros,” he hummed, hands occasionally moving to his neck and beneath the collar of his shirt before clenching hair again. “So, so good.”

 

“Viktor.”

 

Yuuri froze, Viktor’s dick falling from his mouth with an obscene and wet sound. Terrified, he dared look up at the Russian. His eyes were cold and angry.

 

“What?” Viktor hissed. Something was said in Russian and the man’s face coiled into something even angrier. He responded with a wave of his hand and sucked in deep breath while rocking his head side-to-side as if to crack his neck. Lowering his gaze his eyes softened and his fingers dipped under Yuuri’s chin to raise it. “I do so apologize, my dear Eros, but we will have to move this along a little faster than planned.”

 

Roughly, Viktor grabbed at Yuuri’s hair with both hands and lifted him as he stood. Yuuri let out a painful whimper but followed the movements as best he could. The moment he dared open his mouth Viktor thrust in hard, cock touching the back of Yuuri’s throat with each piston. He felt like he was gagging, unable to breathe around the thick flesh. Tears started spilling from his eyes hard and fast as his hands could do nothing but hold on to Viktor’s thighs desperately.

 

Viktor’s moans grew louder and his thrusts became fast and more erratic before he was slipping free from Yuuri’s lips and hot, white semen was painting his face. He gasped in surprise, cum falling into his eyelashes and into his mouth. Viktor stroked himself through it, getting every last drop out, before taking the head of his cock and rubbing it against Yuuri’s face to coat it with his own release.

 

Another moan and Viktor traced Yuuri’s lips with the head before sliding back in. “Lick.” Yuuri obeyed and cleaned Viktor’s cock of any semen. Satisfied, the Russian pulled out and finally released his hold on Yuuri to stuff himself back into his pants.  Kneeling down he grabbed Yuuri’s chin roughly and kissed him, shoving a tongue in to taste himself. “That was far more incredible than I could have ever imagined, Eros. Thank you.” Reaching into his jacket he pulled out another stack of bills and let them fall like rain over Yuuri’s head as he walked away.

 

Yuuri knelt there, eyes wide in shock, for what felt like eternity before his body fell over and he let out an agonizing sob and began to cry. His stomach churned with sickness and with no attempt to crawl to a trash can he heaved. He burned with shame at what he had just done and no amount of money could ever take that feeling away from him. Yuuri felt so humiliated and used and his sobs only grew louder.

 

“Yuuri! Yuuri!”

 

Yuuri looked up through tear-blinded vision and made out the firey mane of Minami. The boy had started working there the moment he had become legal, his family on the verge of living in the streets. “Yuuri, come on.” He frantically began gathering up all the money. “If you stay here like this someone will take all of it.” Shrugging out of his own shirt he began wiping at Yuuri’s face, cleaning it of tears, spit, and cum. “Come on. It’s ok. It’s going to be ok.”

 

Yuuri allowed Minami to help him to his feet and usher him out of the room and back into the club so that they could go back to the dressing room. He could feel the eyes of the other dancers on him. They must have thought he was a joke, freaking out about a blowjob. Some of the other dancers often did much more than that with frequent clients to make extra cash.

 

“Go home,” Minami told him as they finally made it back to Yuuri’s station. “I’ll take your last dance.”

 

Yuuri tried to speak, tried to say thank you, but his throat was raw and silenced. Instead, he settled for a hug, quiet gratitude. He couldn’t bare to have to go out there after that. Everyone would know what he had done. Quickly, he threw on a hoodie and a pair of sweats before shoving all the money into his backpack and heading towards the backdoor.

 

Now, Goro’s look was of pity.

 

/*/

 

Yuuri did not end up taking the extra shift the next day. His parents looked on with wide and happy eyes when he had dumped the bag of yen on the table the next morning. They thought he was just a bartender. A very happy client, he had told them, and they had just hugged him in acceptance. But Mari knew better.

 

“Yuuri,  you don’t have to keep doing this,” she said as Yuuri scrubbed at the floors. “We can find another way to get the money.”

 

He hadn’t bothered to say anything, because there was nothing to say. There was no other way to get the money. Yuuri was it.

 

Viktor was not there when he returned to the club two nights later. Nor was he there the next night, or the next night.

 

“Are you going to see him again?” Minako had asked curiously as she put on her make-up next to him. “He was really hot. I wouldn’t mind having him as a regular.”

 

“Um,” Yuuri’s voice was meek, “I don’t...really know.” He hoped not. Minako meant well, he knew, but it still made his heart ache with fear that every time he stepped out onto the stage Viktor would be there.

 

The Friday crowd had been busy and full of endless pockets. Yuuri’s haul was good. Stacking the yen and throwing it in his backpack he reached for his hoodie, ready to call it a night.

 

“Eros.”

 

Yuuri paused. It was Goro. Another pitiful look. Without hesitation the tears started falling and Yuuri buried his face in his hands as he fell into his seat. Viktor was back. Viktor was back and was asking for him again. What would he want with him this time? Would it be another sloppy blowjob or would it be something worse?

 

“Yuuri. Look at me.” He looked up with a sniff, Minako’s hands on his shoulders. “I know this isn’t what you want. None of us want this life, but we do what we have to do to survive. You don’t realize the blessing this is. That man’s pockets are deep, and he has chosen you.

 

“But not li-like this,” Yuuri sobbed.

 

Minako hushed him and ran a hand soothingly through his hair. “I know, I know. Trust me. I know. The first times are the hardest. But it will get easier, and you’ll eventually realize just how much power you really have. Your sexuality is everything, Yuuri. You think this man is using you, but it’s the other way around. You are in charge. Do you understand?”

 

Shaking his head, Yuuri cried harder. He didn’t understand. How could she be so calm about this? “I’ve never-,”

 

With a sigh Minako let go of him and reached into the drawer of her station pulling out two airplane bottles. “Here. This will help you relax.”

 

With shaking hands he reached out and unscrewed the first bottle before throwing it back. Without even a pause he grabbed for the other and followed suit with it. “Do you have anymore?”

 

Minako blinked but pulled out another, “Shit, Yuuri. I’m so sorry.” She waited until he downed the third bottle and wiped a tear from his eye. “It can be good...if you let it.”

 

“Eros,” Goro spoke again, more urgency in his voice.

 

Yuuri wiped at his tears and sucked in a shuddered breath. “Thank you.”

 

Minako offered a small smile and helped Yuuri to his feet. “It’ll be ok, kiddo. You’re doing this for your family, just remember that.”

 

With one last deep breath to steady himself he worked at unbuttoning his shirt again and followed after Goro. They bypassed the velvet couches of the private room this time and moved towards the back where it was darker, quieter, and held two beds. Yuuri had to bite his lip until it bled to not cry. Thankfully, the three shots were already starting to kick in and he could feel his skin tingle with numbness. He always had been such a lightweight.

 

There was Viktor, cross-legged on the bed but sporting only a crisp dress shirt with rolled sleeves this time. His blue eyes glowed in the darkness and he smirked. “Eros...it’s so good to see you again.” He dismissed the remaining company like he had previously and rose to his feet. With a few steps forward he was uncomfortably close to Yuuri’s ear and leaned it. “Or should I say...Yuuri?”

 

Yuuri froze, gasping. Viktor began to kiss down his neck and he hardly noticed in his shock. This was it. This man owned him now. Of course he would have found out. It probably wasn’t even hard. His boss probably told him without hesitation. When Viktor placed his hands on his bare chest and he didn’t flinch, Yuuri did know if it was the alcohol or just utter defeat.

 

Viktor kissed him, tender this time, though he still pressed his tongue in. He tasted of mint and vodka. “I’ve given explicit instruction not to interrupt us this time.” Breathing in Yuuri’s scent he took a step back and sat gracefully on the edge of the bed. “Well? Dance for me, Yu-uri.”

 

Yuuri’s body felt unsteady and cold. Without any hesitation he climbed into Viktor’s lap and shoved him backwards before grinding up against him.

 

Laughing, Viktor placed his hands on Yuuri’s hips. “Liquid courage? Good. We can take this further, then. Mmm, Yuuri, just like that.” Allowing his head to fall back against the pillow he thrust up, their hips grinding together in a rhythm.

 

Yuuri don’t know what came over him, but he leaned forward and locked lips with Viktor once more, his hands unbuttoning the Russian’s shirt and raking nails over pink nipples. With a gasp Viktor bucked up against him and slid his hands up under Yuuri’s shirt, sliding it off of his shoulders and throwing it to the side. Yuuri arched his back, bracing his hands on Viktor’s thighs as he really went to town, giving the Russian a perfect view of his chest and belly while he rocked.

 

“Shit,” Viktor cursed, hands grabbing Yuuri’s ass roughly and grinding their hips harder together. He was already hard under straining fabric.

 

You are in charge. Do you understand?

 

Yuuri was starting to understand. Shifting his weight he scooted down Viktors legs and nuzzled the bulge with hise nose before mouthing at it tenderly. Viktor was moaning beneath him with every kiss and lick, begging. He had the power.

 

Time seemed to be in a constant battle of fast forward and rewind for Yuuri. He didn’t know how he had gotten Viktor’s cock out already, coating it in his saliva and burying it in the heat of his mouth. It was easier this time. But unlike their last encounter, Viktor was trying to pull him off rather than down. With a pop, Yuuri unlatched himself and looked at Viktor with a furrowed brow.

 

“Take them off,” he ordered.

 

It took Yuuri a moment in his drunken state to realize Viktor was talking about his hot pants. Even in his haze, there was a hesitation before Yuuri obeyed and stepped off the bed to slide down the glittering black fabric. When he stood, he realized he was standing completely bare and he felt a blush creep up on his face.

 

“Beautiful,” Viktor breathed, pupils blown wide. He beckoned Yuuri to rejoin him on the bed and he flipped them, Viktor now on top. Hands against Yuuri’s chest he leaned down and took the dancer’s cock into his mouth. Yuuri couldn’t believe his eyes as he watched the head of silver bob up and down with experience. A moan caught in the back of his throat and he felt heat coil in his stomach as he finally grew hard.

 

“There you go,” Viktor purred happily as he pulled off. “Come on Yuuri. Don’t hold it in.”

 

It can be good. If you let it.

 

Yuuri let himself moan louder as Viktor stroked him.

 

Yes ,” Viktor’s eye twinkled and he was suddenly rolling Yuuri over and shoving a pillow beneath his hips.

 

Yuuri let it happen, his world trying to spin before his eyes. Burying his face against the sheets he allowed Viktor to massage his ass and didn’t even seem to give much thought to when the Russian began sliding his dick between the cheeks. Instead, he lay there, hoping that would be enough to get him off and he could just go to sleep. Occasionally, he’d find himself rocking his hips against the pillow, trying to get some sort of friction on his hard cock.

 

It wasn’t until a cold finger pressed against his entrance did he realize that no, Viktor had every intention of taking it all the way.

 

Suddenly, he was stone-cold sober and he felt himself move to leap off the bed. Viktor was quick and had a rough hand in his hair pressing his face back into the sheets. “Shh, shhh, Yuuri,” he soothed, “You wouldn’t want your parents to miss their next payment on the onsen, would you?”

 

Yuuri let out a pained whimper as a finger breached his entrance. Fingers clenched the sheets painfully and tears stung at his eyes. Viktor knew everything. Minako was wrong. He was powerless. He let out a muffled sob as another finger joined in and began scissoring him. It burned.

 

“Shh, my Yuuri,” Viktor whispered, placing soft kisses against the nape of Yuuri’s neck and down his spine. “Just relax.” He thrust his fingers in deeper, harder, curling them just right sending a jolt of electricity through Yuuri.

 

It can be good. If you let it.

 

Stifling a sob as Viktor entered a third finger he tried to think of something - anything - in order to lose himself in another world. But Viktor kept pressing there and Yuuri kept sobbing and wiggling his hips up against his fingers. When Viktor finally did pull them free Yuuri couldn’t help but whimper at the loss.

 

Viktor’s hand on his head had softened and moved to his neck, thumb rubbing soothing circles against the skin. It was almost enough to have Yuuri relaxed back into his haze before something solid and blunt pushed up against him.

 

“N-no!” Yuuri gasped, hands flailing out behind him desperately trying to get Viktor to stop, but the man above him was far more powerful. One hand shoved his face back into the sheets and the other pinned his wrists above his head as he continued to sink in. Yuuri let out a strangled cry, the stretch overwhelming as Viktor’s length dove deeper.

 

“Fu-uck,” Viktor breathed, “Yuuri, so tight, so hot. Shit.” The moan he let out was deep and long as he bottomed out in Yuuri and started to grind his hips to help the man beneath him adjust. “I’ve never felt anyone so good…” Viktor pulled back slowly, watching as Yuuri’s entrance moved around him, and licked his lips with a hard thrust back in. It was absolutely incredible.

 

With every thrust Yuuri let out a yelp, the pace quick and hard. He felt too full, too stretched, like he was about to explode. His hand was soaked from his tears and the bite marks would probably leave a permanent scar. But then Viktor adjusted his hips and he was seeing stars .

 

“There it is,” Viktor panted, the slapping of skin echoing in the room over the other dancers giving a show and the electronic music booming through the speakers. "My Yuuri...So good."

 

It can be good. If you let it.

 

Viktor’s hands had released their hold on him and Yuuri lay there pliant, soft moans leaving his lips with each hit against his prostate. Viktor’s hands moved to his hips and tightened their hold as his pace quickened, brutal and punishing into him. Yuuri was sure to have bruises for weeks. Viktor’s moans were starting to get louder and he reached beneath Yuuri to begin stroking him. It only took a few pumps before Yuuri found his vision turning white. His hips stuttered with orgasm and his entire body seemed to be too sensitive. Everything was too much.

 

Viktor thrust in once, twice, and then he was coming with a loud groan, his cock twitching inside Yuuri as his cum painted his velvet walls white. It seemed like eternity before Viktor stopped spurting inside of him and finally pulled out leaving Yuuri raw and empty

 

Viktor turned Yuuri over and laced their fingers together above his head. “Incredible,” he breathed before leaning in for a kiss to the lips. Viktor kissed him for a long time before licking up the trail of tears and placing a butterfly kiss to each eyelid. “I have tasted paradise, and I will know nothing else. You are mine, Yuuri. No one else can have you.” Licking his lips he reached over to the bedside and came up with large stack of yen. “I’ll be good to you, Yuuri. Just as you have been good to me.”

 

Yuuri watched through terrified eyes as Viktor left the money and got off the bed, pulling his pants back up and buttoning his shirt. Yuuri wanted to cry again, but he now felt nothing. He felt nothing as he finally rolled off the bed and slid his hot pants back on and pulled on his shirt. He felt nothing as he gathered up the money and cradled it to his chest. He felt nothing as he walked back to the dressing room, warm cum dripping down the inside of his thigh.

 

There was nothing.

 

When he finally walked through the doors to Yu-topia, everything came crashing down on him. He fell to his knees and started crying desperately. Mari was there, taking him in her arms and rocking him back and forth. He was used and he was ruined, now. He was nothing.

 

You are in charge. Do you understand?

 

Yuuri had never felt so betrayed by words in his life.

 

/*/

 

“Thank you for meeting with me, Ito-san,” Viktor spoke calmly as an elder Japanese man in an expensive pressed suit joined him in the vehicle. It had taken several days for Viktor to find the head house of Hasetsu’s territory and coordinate a meeting.

 

“Hmph,” Ito responded from across Viktor, hand firmly grasped on a cane. “I am a busy man, Viktor. Do not waste my time.”

 

Viktor bowed his head in understanding, “Of course. I wanted to speak to you regarding the Katsuki family.” Every since their meeting, Viktor had been unable to stop thinking about Yuuri. Yuuri, Yuuri, Yuuri. How that name rolled off his tongue so beautifully.

 

“Katsuki?” Ito questioned, confusion in his face. He repeated the family name over and over until the light bulb striked. “Katsuki! The family that owns the onsen in Hasetsu?”

 

“Yes,” Viktor nodded. “I am told they owe you a debt. How much?”

 

Ito’s eyes narrowed in question and uncertainty. “To what interest is it to you?”

 

Viktor laced his fingers together in his lap, comfortably. He would not be denied this.“I am interested in their son. He goes by Yuuri.”

 

Ito sat there, expressionless and silent for several moments before letting out a low laugh. “He is worthless, you know? Worth not even a quarter of what their family owes on the onsen. You could take him easily, and I would not care. Yet, you ask my permission because this is my soil. I have much respect for that, Viktor Nikiforov. Much.”

 

Viktor could feel his jaw clench in anger. Yuuri was not worthless. Yuuri was beautiful, and he was everything. Yuuri would be his. Forever. “We have an agreement, then?”

 

“I will forgive the Katsuki’s debt and allow you their son, should this simple thing bring the Russians joy,” Ito agreed. “Such an easy task, as an act of trust in our relationship.”

 

“It does,” Viktor nodded, gaze softening and inviting. “You have my word that this strengthens our ties.”

 

“It is done, then,” Ito smiled, fingers drumming against his cane. “I will send my men to obtain him. Shall I have him sent to your quarters in Kyoto? Or perhaps all the way to Russia might be best?”

 

Viktor hummed in thought, a finger to his lips. He still had some business to attend to here in Japan, and would hate to have to wait. But, Ito-san was right. It would be easier to move him completely out of the country first and foremost. In a foreign country where he knew no one, Viktor would be all he had.

 

“To Russia.”