Chapter Text
Russia was freezing.
Well, it was to someone who’d grown up in Eastern Asia with parents who owned a hot spring resort. Of course, it also didn’t help winter was right around the corner. At least Russia had heating systems.
Yuuri Katsuki was an aspiring young author from Japan. At twenty-four years old, Yuuri had quite the travel experience in his pocket. He’d been all over the world for inspiration to incorporate into his writing. His latest work included a prolonged period of time in Russia, so as he’d been doing since he was nineteen, he bought himself a plane ticket, packed his bag, and headed to his desired destination. So far, his impression of St.Petersburg was much more positive than he thought it’d be. Russia had always had this stigma around it where the people were cold, rude, and lived in poverty. Not to mention how believers online thought Russia housed the largest underground network of the supernatural in the world. Personally, Yuuri didn’t have much of an opinion on whether cryptids and the supernatural existed or not. He prefered to focus on what was real and present in his life, along with whatever universe the characters in his writings resided in.
The taxi ride from the airport to the hotel had been a mostly pleasant ride. The cab driver was kind and had the heat cranked up to ward off the cold, although Yuuri had to disagree with his choice in the music playing on the radio. Checking in was quite simple, the woman at the desk wore a genuine, welcoming smile and checked him in without any problems. His room was small, containing a bed, a desk, a bathroom, and a gorgeous window view of the city. Plagued with jet lag, Yuuri silently promised himself he’d appreciate the view after a good night's rest. After unpacking, a long and hot shower, and a meal he’d ordered through the front desk, the young man settled down into his bed allowing the quiet sounds of the city outside to lull him to sleep.
* * *
“Yuuri Katsuki!”
Yuuri looked up from where he was typing away in his window seat, the cafe barista butchering his name because of her thick russian accent. Standing, he went to retrieve his tea and thanked the barista before going to sit back down. He’d been in Russia about a week, traveling to different places each day. He’d been asking locals about their favorite spots in the city, curious to see Russia away from the more popular tourist attractions. He knew it was strange, a japanese man sitting in the most odd locations in the city typing away on his laptop, but he didn’t mind. Many people had noticed him and sent him strange, confused looks, but none had seemed irritated by his presence.
Or at least, he thought so, until now.
Returning to his seat, a young man who could be no older than himself had seated himself at Yuuri’s table across from where his laptop was set up. Cautiously, Yuuri set his tea down before sitting and looked at the man before him.
“Um… May I help you, sir?”
The young man looked at him, eyes such a dark brown they looked black. His hair was equally as dark, swept back with a bit of product and shaved at the sides, a pair of sunglasses perched atop his head. A thick, black leather jacket framed his muscular body, a white shirt underneath paired with a pair of black jeans and dirty old converse. His gaze shifted from the window to Yuuri, a chill running down his spine at the intensity of his gaze.
“You’re Yuuri Katsuki, yes?” he asked, absentmindedly pulling his phone out of his pocket and glancing at the screen.
“Yes… Who are you?” Yuuri asked, confused as to who this young man was.
“Doesn’t matter. What matters is you’re hanging out in places that are going to get you hurt. There are some dangerous parts of Russia, and you’ve been to quite a few of them. I’m surprised you haven’t gotten attacked yet.”
Yuuri blinked at the younger man’s warning. How did he know where Yuuri had been? Sure some of the locations locals had given him were a bit sketchy, but he felt they were public enough that he’d be safe.
“Is there a mafia or something that doesn’t want me around? Are you their messenger?” Yuuri asked, his voice kept low to avoid anyone overhearing their conversation. The young man chuckled, the look on his face almost sad. Maybe angry?
“I wish it was just a mob. You’d be a lot safer. Look, just don’t go snooping around anymore, alright? Not if you value your life.”
With that, the young man stood and casually walked out of the cafe like he hadn’t just threatened Yuuri’s life. The strange young man slid onto his motercycle out front, and with a rev of the engine he was gone. Shaken by the encounter, Yuuri shut his laptop and left the cafe to head back to the safety of his hotel, his heart beat deafening in his ears.
* * *
It took a few days for Yuuri to gain the courage to start venturing back out to places once again. He only had two more weeks in Russia, and he was going to make it count.
The local he’d asked that day had directed him to a bar in the older part of the city. It had a rustic, ancient feel to it and Yuuri swore he could feel the energy buzzing in the air around him. Entering the bar, the few patrons that were there all looked up at him as the door opened, the bar going silent. Offering an awkward and weak smile, he went to sit in a booth in the back of the bar and opened up his laptop before taking in the space. The bar was underground, the walls and floor both made of stone. The booths and tables were made of old wood and leather that had been smoothed with age and use. Pictures hung everywhere of what he assumed to be the owners and regular patrons, although strangely some of the pictures much older than the others. It was a generally pleasant atmosphere, however, despite the tenseness his attendence gave off.
“May I get you something to drink?”
Looking up, Yuuri was met with the most beautiful eyes he’d ever seen.
They were a striking tealish-blue color, practically glowing from the contrast of platinum hair. The man before him was, without a doubt, the most gorgeous male he’d ever laid eyes on. He couldn’t find one imperfection, which was really saying something for him. Yuuri never really took interest in people for their looks. He had a tendency to fall in love with people’s personalities and emotional connections rather than how they look, but this man was beautiful-
“As much as you stare, sir, you can’t drink me. Perhaps there’s something else you’d like?” The bartender asked and leaned against the table with a smile and playful wink.
Yuuri’s cheeks flared in embarrassment, his gaze immediately retreating to his lap.
“Can I just have a water please?”
“Sure thing.” The bartender hummed with a smile before returning to the bar.
Yuuri swore everyone in that bar could hear how hard his heart was beating, only adding to his embarrassment. How could he just stare like that?! He’d never done that before! Taking a deep breath to soothe his increasing embarrassment and anxiety, Yuuri turned his attention back to his laptop and waited for his water.
By the time Yuuri finished the chunk of his story he’d been working on, the sun had gone down and the night was ticking on. It was late… he really should be getting back to his hotel. Standing and stretching, he packed his laptop in his bag and headed towards the door to leave.
“Wait!”
Yuuri stopped and turned to see the handsome bartender from before jogging across the bar over to him, his brow creased with concern. “It’s late, this part of town can be dangerous at night… why don’t you let me walk you to-”
“Viktor.”
They both turned to see an older man sitting at the bar, a bottle of vodka in front of him and shot glass in hand.
“You know the rules.”
Visibly tensing, ‘Viktor’ turned to him looking even more concerned than before. With a sigh, he patted Yuuri’s shoulder and offered him a small smile.
“Be careful walking back home, da? And stay warm.”
Confused, Yuuri slowly nodded and turned away to leave the bar, the freezing night air biting at his skin as soon as he opened the door. Biting his lip, Yuuri began his treck back to the main road where he’d hopefully be able to catch a taxi back to the hotel.
He had to admit, walking through the old part of the city in the darkness of the winter night made his skin crawl, and more than once Yuuri found himself peeking over his shoulder or walking a bit faster. A few times, he swore he heard footsteps behind him only to find he was still alone and no one was there. Sighing, Yuuri finally forced himself to relax a bit, blaming his anxiety and exhaustion on being so antsy. Despite trying to keep himself calm, Yuuri’s heart was beating wildly in his chest, his nerves getting to him. He thought it to be irrational, that he was perfectly safe, at least until they grabbed him.
Yuuri felt his heart stop as soon as the strong arms wrapped tightly around his body, almost tight enough to cut off his breathing. The strangers grip was what he imagined being strangled by a boa constrictor would feel like, dots of black dancing in his vision as he struggled to breath. Next thing he knew, his scarf was being pulled aside and a sharp, white hot pain exploded in the side of his neck, a pair of cold, chapped lips pressed against his skin.
Yuuri’s vision started to blur as he fought for consciousness as he got dizzier and dizzier. All he could do was hope he’d live, that his attacker would be merciful enough to let him live. When they didn’t stop, Yuuri’s eyes blurred further with tears of fear.
Am I going to die?
He could feel it, he was too weak to fight, too dizzy to try any run away or get someone’s attention for help. He was going to die here, and no one would know-
Wait... why did he let go? The ground was so cold…
The tight hold on Yuuri’s body was gone, his weak body having collapsed onto the snowy sidewalk. He could vaguely hear fighting somewhere near him, but he didn’t really care. The stars were a really pretty sight in Russia, it’d be a nice view to die gazing at, at least in Yuuri’s mind.
Moments later, he faintly felt a pair of arms gently cradle him to their body. Sweeping aside Yuuri’s coat collar, Yuuri looked to see the fuzzy image of a man with platinum hair gazing down at him, mumbling something about being sorry before leaning down pressing his own mouth to where the other man had attacked him. Warmth spread from the wound down and through Yuuri’s body, his entire being going numb and relaxing.
The last thing he remembers is the man gently picking him up bridal style and carrying him somewhere, his soothing voice speaking russian while he walked. Gazing up at the blurry image of the man with the night sky behind him, Yuuri finally relented, allowing the alluring warmth of unconsciousness to guide him into a dreamless sleep.