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“Just shoot, Victor. Shoot me.”
Yuuri’s voice was too calm, his eyes too tranquil. Like Victor’s pistol wasn’t aimed squarely at the centre of his chest in that moment, his lover’s eyes blown wide with shock and fear. His white shirt hung open, revealing his long kept secret.
In the silver crescent moon pendant hanging from his neck.
Yuuri was a werewolf.
Victor wasn’t sure whether to scream or cry.
His gun trembled in his hands, aimed squarely at Yuuri’s chest - at his heart - praying that he would blink any moment and wake up in his bed, the whole thing a bad dream. He’d never been anything but sure before when he’d faced werewolves in the past, when he’d slayed them in cold blood for what they did to his mother. But this wasn’t just another monster - this was Yuuri. The love of Victor’s life.
And now Victor had to kill him.
The pendant glinted mockingly in the moonlight, taunting Victor. Yuuri is mine , it said to him, not yours. He belongs to our world.
That said world burned and blurred behind Victor’s eyes, salt running over his parted, trembling lips. No ! He couldn’t cry now. Couldn’t let his guard down. One second was all it would take for a werewolf to lunge with their supernatural speed, transform, claws through his heart and teeth tearing out his throat…
“We both know how this has to end,” Yuuri said quietly. Too quietly. “Even if it isn’t you that pulls the trigger.”
Soft yellow light bathed over them from the faded headlights of Victor’s car sat abandoned on the road behind them, door to the driver’s side thrown wide open. He hadn’t known what was wrong when he’d chased Yuuri out here. He’d thought Yuuri was leaving him, running away … how naive. He should have known better.
Victor just whimpered.
He blinked furiously, tears sticking to his eyelashes. All he could see was silver. The same silver hanging around Yuuri’s neck. It was so small, so easy to overlook… only it was a death sentence.
As a hunter, Victor couldn’t ignore it.
Even now, he could barely take his eyes off it, the thing that condemned his beloved hanging between Yuuri’s collarbones. Victor could see the red marks littered over Yuuri’s skin where the silver burned him, yet still he wore it. Another blister was forming before Victor’s very eyes. Still, Yuuri didn’t flinch. Didn’t move. Like the pain was nothing.
Why ?
Victor sucked in a ragged breath, tasting the salt of his own tears running over his lips. “Please don’t make me do this,” he begged. “Yuuri-”
“They’ll kill you too if you don’t.”
Victor’s eyes scrunched shut, ignoring his instincts to keep them open. Yuuri was right. Yuri, Georgi - Yakov, even, his own mentor… they would all hunt him down if they found out Victor was in love with a wolf. That he had let Yuuri live. And they would find out. Nothing stayed a secret forever. They would kill him, then they would kill Yuuri, and they would not be so merciful about it.
Victor’s head fell forward, strength waning. The pistol felt heavier in his hand than he remembered, a burden, a curse.
Yuuri’s sad smile flickered.
Why wasn’t he fighting? Running? Victor didn’t understand it. There was a forest barely twenty yards away from them, and with the moon only one night away from being full, Yuuri would easily have enough speed to outrun him, to get away. Instead he stayed, not flinching away from the gun aimed at his chest. Encouraging the man behind it to end his life in one short moment.
“Here.”
Yuuri stepped forward.
Victor leapt back, heart in his mouth. He fought his body’s instinct to squeeze the trigger; there could be no taking that back.
And - oh God - Yuuri was pulling his shirt back, exposing the left side of his chest. His heart. Victor’s head shook instinctively, sharp breaths ripping through his lungs like barbed wire. Yuuri’s accepting smile just made it worse. He couldn’t, no, he couldn’t, no way - but he had to...
“Don’t miss.” Yuuri pointed squarely over his heart. “I don’t know what will happen if you miss. I might-” lose control.
The thing they both knew, but neither dared say aloud.
For the first time, Yuuri’s expression faltered. His breath caught, his brow furrowed, something akin to pain flashing in his eyes....
The hunter in Victor wanted to say it was blood lust.
The man in him though, knew that Yuuri just couldn’t bear the thought of hurting him.
A choked sound wracked out of Victor’s lungs, raw and broken. Victor couldn’t breathe. The gold ring was cold on his right ring finger, a cruel reminder of how happy they had been before … everything.
The gun rattled in his hand.
“People are dead,” Victor gasped out. “Y-you killed-”
“I didn’t kill anybody, Victor.”
And they both knew it.
Victor was really grasping at straws now. As if there was anything he could say in the next ten minutes that could undo the love they’d built together over the last six months.
Victor swallowed hard, mouth dry. His fingers started to tremble around the pistol, aim wavering. His engagement ring glinted in the car light, shining over the bounce of light from Yuuri’s pendant - if only their love really could outshine the horror, the curse. Victor would give anything - do anything - to save them, but a werewolf...
“We’ll run away,” spilled from his lips before he could help it - even he could hear how desperate he sounded.
Yuuri’s lips just pressed together. “They’d find us-”
“I don’t care.”
The gun hit the grass with a soft click, Victor casting it aside like it burned to the touch.
Yuuri’s eyes followed it, blinked wide with surprise.
“Just…” Victor stepped forward, hands curling and uncurling into fists at his sides in place of holding Yuuri at gunpoint. His voice trembled. He didn’t care. “Just don’t make me lose you like this.”
Anything but this.
Killed by another hunter - fine. Killed by another wolf - fine. An act of God, an accident, murder, suicide, human or beast, angel or demon - they would both die soon anyway, surely. There would be no living with this even if Victor lived through it. Any other way out, Victor would accept as inevitable, would understand.
But this… he couldn’t do it.
Yuuri closed the gap between them with one more careful stride - palms bared in peace - like he could sense how on edge Victor’s nerves were. It was probably written all over his face.
“Victor…”
His voice was soothing, calming… how? Yuuri was a werewolf - worse than a mindless beast, because wolves knew exactly what they were doing when they hunted people, when they moved to cities for prey, when they picked out their victims and tore out their heart-
Yuuri crouched low, picking the pistol out from the grass.
Victor’s breath caught.
Dew glistened over Yuuri’s fingertips as he straightened up, gun in hand, resting perfectly in the size of his palm. The thing that would kill him - or Victor. What was he going to do? Take the bullets out? Just shoot Victor down and make his escape? He should. Victor wouldn’t blame him. Survival was survival, after all.
He eyed the gun in Yuuri’s hands, itching for the cold sting of the metal. He didn’t care how it came - either from the weight of the pistol in his hand or a bullet blistering through him. He wasn’t fussy anymore.
Only it wasn’t his choice.
The pistol was steady in Yuuri’s hands, staring down at it with an expression that Victor didn’t dare name. It was something akin to wonder. Yuuri turned the gun in his hands with careful, nimble fingers. Feeling it. Weighing it. Judging it. The glitter in his gaze and quirk of his lips turned Victor’s stomach - how could he? How could he smile while asking Victor to kill him? Smiling down at the weapon that would take his life...
The turning stopped suddenly.
The barrel pointed at Yuuri.
Victor blinked up through tear stained eyes, instantly finding Yuuri’s gaze. Still calm - even staring death in the face.
“Do it,” he said, forcing the pommel of the pistol back into Victor’s hands.
His fingers curled around Victor’s, holding them in place around the pistol - they were ice cold. His eyes were bright, as innocent as if he had been asking for an extra one of Victor’s fries rather than for Victor to shoot him.
Victor didn’t grip back.
His fingers were loose and slack, molded around the pistol by Yuuri’s will and Yuuri’s alone. Victor just shook his head numbly, lips parting in a silent plea.
Yuuri just smiled. Smiled!
“Do it for me,” he said. “I’m ready.”
Victor sobbed.
He didn’t bother trying to hide it. His eyes scrunched shut - gaze falling - choking on his tears while he gasped hopelessly for air. There was no air. There was no point in breathing - not without Yuuri. If he did this, Victor knew the pain crushing through his chest would be there to stay forever. He couldn’t bear it, he couldn’t...
Yuuri took a hand away from Victor’s to cup his wet cheek, touch gentle and caring. Not a monster. Not a beast.
The gun didn’t fall.
Victor held it.
Yuuri .
“Please,” Victor heard the strain in his lover’s voice, heard the crack. “It’s okay.”
He didn’t brush the tears away. Victor was grateful - he’d only have to endure the painful reminder and humiliation of feeling new ones carve fresh groves over his cheeks if he had.
His teeth gritted, head jerking to the side into Yuuri’s touch. It was as close to a shake as he could muster; no more words, no more gestures. All that was left was what Victor would do, or what he wouldn’t do. No more please. No more what ifs. Just what - and when. The thought was calming. Steeling.
Victor’s hands tightened around the gun.
He knew what he had to do.
When his gaze lifted back to Yuuri’s, it was hardened with resolve. His wrist twisted, the muzzle of the pistol digging in under Yuuri’s ribs. It aimed upwards.
He couldn’t miss.
“I love you.”
He wasn’t sure if he said it aloud or not. He didn’t mean to - not trusting his own voice to hold steady in that one moment, the one thing that needed to be right .
Yuuri’s lips stretched in a smile. “I love you too-”
Victor didn’t hear the gun go off.
He heard Yuuri’s last little gasp. He watched the light leave his lover’s eyes. He felt his body slump in his arms, still and lifeless. Red spilled over the front of Yuuri’s chest, staining the edge of his white shirt, rolling off the buttons in sickening droplets. Victor felt it speckle on his cheek, blood torturously warm with the last moments of lingering life as it hit his skin.
Victor’s jaw gritted, biting back his scream. Now he cried. His tears ran rivets through the dots of blood, crimson staining his cheeks accusingly. His knees trembled beneath him, barely holding him upright.
It didn’t matter anymore , he thought.
The pistol was still wet with Yuuri’s blood as it fell away from his body and pressed against Victor’s temple, staining his silver locks red. His finger curled around the trigger.
Victor closed his eyes.
And pulled.